Hermione Granger (or rather her moving portrait) had happily occupied a space on the British Wizarding Museum wall for the past few years with little disturbance. The picture was taken nearly five years after the war, the day she had managed to restore her parents memories. They couldn't be in the picture for obvious reasons, muggles and magical pictures didn't mix – it was too confusing for the forever captured figures.
Unfortunately, Hermione's work in potions to find the solution ended up being for little personal gain, although it revolutionised the wizarding world. Three days after the Obliviate was reversed, Hermione Granger had been in an accident. Her injuries proved fatal, and soon after her parents' memories were once again erased. Harry made the call, he thought it was what she would have wanted.
Nevertheless, in her tragically short life Hermione was one of the greatest magical persons of her time. She invented cures for previously incurable diseases, perfected new spells based on the ancient roots of magic, and made significant written contributions to the libraries she had once frequented so often, with works enough to rival Gilderoy Lockhart. Although, it should be said, her books were far closer to undeniable genius as opposed to the fantastical self-serving triumphs of a narcissist.
Due to her great accomplishments during the war as well as after it, her portrait was one of a few chosen to tour the country. Also due to her accomplishments in both eras, there had been quite a dispute over where to place the portrait between two exhibiting departments - the Heroines of the Final Battle display, or Golden Idols and their Accomplishments. Eventually a highly fair and scientific method of selection was employed, and The Heroines of the Final Battle exhibitor won the coin toss.
It was the first day of the exhibition, and Hermione's portrait hung just off centre on the right wall with one empty space to the left, and a portrait of Nymphadora Tonks on her right. Hermione and Tonks chatted along like the old friends they now were, having tea on Tonks' painted sofa; she barely noticed that the space on her left was still curiously empty come night-fall. All of the other pictures had arrived.
A few hours after saying their goodnights and returning to her own portrait, mumbled whispers echoed softly and muffled footsteps hurried along the polished wooden floor. They were carrying a rather large portrait covered in a dust cloth which obscured the entire piece, except for one corner, where the material had slipped down to reveal a gilded gold frame. Quickly and quietly hanging up the painting, one man went to remove the dust sheet. Pausing suddenly and thinking better of it at the worried touch on his arm from his pal, the two men left the dust cloth on and hurried back away with the same muffled tread.
Just before she drifted back to the land of dreams, Hermione could have sworn she heard a faint sigh from beneath the sheet, but she was fast asleep before her brain had time to process anything further.