A/N: This can be read as a sort of an unintended sequel to "The Dead Don't Care" but also as a stand alone piece.

No copyright infringement intended. I own nothing.

Enjoy.

Framed Acquaintances

'Honestly!' The Headmistress scolded as she led the offending students into her office. 'I expected better from the two of you! Both of you are prefects! It's your second last year of schooling; you're supposed to role models for the other students! Not…Not doing things like that!'

'We're sorry Headmistress.' Tried a red-haired Gryffindor.

'Don't bother. I'll deal with both of you in a moment. Just wait inside; I'll be back in a minute.' The two students looked at her curiously, causing her to sigh. 'There's been a problem on the fourth floor. Harsh words were spoken, curses backfired and I need to sort it out.' She opened the door and pointed them in. As they sat down, she turned to leave.

'Weasley, Malfoy, behave yourselves.' She warned before closing the door behind her, sealing them inside.

Once alone, the girl turned to the boy and shot him a look of pure loathing.

'Thanks a lot Scorpius. You had to go and get us caught!'

'What's the matter Rosie?' He taunted. 'Never been in trouble before?'

'Not for this I haven't!' She stared at him with a seething look in her eye as he smirked back at her.

'You are the spitting image of your father.' A voice drawled out, interrupting their silence. The two teenagers looked around confused.

'What?' Scorpius asked.

'I said you are the spitting image of your father, Mr Malfoy.' They searched the room until they could see where the voice had came from. Finally, they found it; a portrait on the wall. Sitting slightly to the left of the Headmistress's desk, and the only one who was awake and alert, was a tall man completely clothed in black. His long black hair and harsh features stared at them from within the gilded frame.

'Umm, thank you…sir.' Said Malfoy. 'And you are?'

'Professor Severus Snape. Potions Master, Head of Slytherin House, Spy, member of the Order of the Phoenix, Death Eater and Headmaster. In my time. I taught your father, and saved his life.' Unsure of what to say to this, Scorpius just stared up at Snape in his portrait, but he had turned his attention to the young woman with the blond-haired mini-Draco.

'There is only one family that I know of with hair that particular shade of red. You're a Weasley aren't you girl?'

'Yes sir. Rose Weasley sir.'

'Yes, and which one are you the spawn of? There are just so many to choose from.'

'Ronald Weasley sir.'

'Ah yes, the ever-faithful sidekick of the famous Harry Potter. And your mother? Wait, no don't tell me. I can guess.' He paused and looked at her.

'Miss Weasley, what would I get if I added powdered root of Asphodel to an infusion of Wormwood?' She didn't even need to think.

'The Draught of the Living Death, sir.'

'Where would you find a bezoar?'

'The stomach of a goat, sir.'

'Monkshood and Wolfsbane?'

'Aconite.'

'Indeed so. Your mother is Hermione Granger isn't she?'

'Yes sir. How did you know?'

'I taught her too. I once called her an "insufferable know-it-all" actually. She was part of the Golden Trio. Potter, Weasley and Granger. It's almost unbelievable to think that they all ended up inter-marrying, though quite amusing. The sexual tension between your parents Miss Weasley, especially after six years, was nearly unbearable.' He paused again, his gaze flickering between the two of them before continuing.

'Now pray tell me, just exactly why the two of you, whose parents were sworn enemies, have no doubt warned you about each other and presumably forbidden any contact, are both in here now? What could the two of you have done together that deserves punishment so severe it's dealt by the Headmistress herself, hmmm?'

As he asked the question, Rose Weasley blushed an interesting shade of red, turned away in embarrassment and muttered a barely audible answer.

'What? Speak up girl.'

'Public Fornication.' Scorpius Malfoy announced loudly, making her blush even darker. Snape looked from one to the other, disbelief etched deeply on his face.

'With each other?' They nodded.

He burst out laughing.

Slightly annoyed by his amusement, Rose looked up at him.

'It wasn't public per se.'

'Then how did you caught in such a compromising position Miss Weasley?'

'We may or may not have been in a broom closet at the time…and I may or may not have been moaning a little bit.' She answered, her embarrassment deepening. Snape just kept laughing.

'Severus! Really!' The portrait next to his had woken up and was frowning at his neighbour's manner. 'It isn't polite to make fun of the students. You know that. You were Headmaster remember?'

'Albus, please. First of all, I'm dead. Technically I don't work for you anymore, so I can do whatever I want and if that just happens to include laughing at students, then so be it. And secondly, it's Malfoy and a Weasley. How is that not funny?'

'Well you do have a point I suppose.' The elderly, white-haired wizard chuckled.

'It's not that funny.' Rose muttered as she turned to face Scorpius, only to find him sniggering as well.

'Oh come now Severus.' The portrait of Dumbledore ordered, sensing her discomfort. 'Leave the girl alone.'

'I'm trying Albus, I am.' He did his best to compose himself.

'The years have softened you old friend.'

'I believe it's more likely to be the experience of being a living portrait. That and the fact that I can't sneer as well as I might like to on canvas.' He rolled his eyes, all humour gone.

'Besides, do you have any idea how hard it is to intimidate students when you're hung on a wall? They're just not frightened of me anymore…'

The room was silent. Nobody quite knew what to say.

'So Miss Weasley,' Dumbledore began, trying to move the conversation forward and away from the depressing confession of an old canvas. 'How has your family been?'

'They're all well sir.' Rose replied politely with a small smile.

'And Mr Malfoy,' Snape interjected, back to his usual self once more. 'How has your grandfather been?'

'He's fine. You know, in an old, cantankerous sort of way.'

'And does he still brandish that ridiculous snake cane?'

'Do I even have to answer that? Of course he does. Absolutely loves the thing.'

'Ah well, Lucius always did love that stick.' Snape recalled with a fond smile.

'Though I wouldn't want to be around when I tell him that you called it a "stick".' Scorpius told him slyly.

'You wouldn't dare.' Snape narrowed his eyes.

'Wouldn't I? After all, I am a Malfoy.' Snape glared harshly at him for a minute before the corners of his mouth crept up into a grin.

'We would've gotten along well together.'

'That we would have sir. That we would have.'

The smile they shared lasted for only a moment before the set of heavy doors burst open and a slightly harassed-looking Headmistress walked back into the room.

'Now where were we?'

It was perhaps the longest twenty-five minutes of their lives. The room was cold, uncomfortable, and silent except for the sharp voice of the Headmistress demanding an explanation for their actions. Rose hung her head in shame and attempted to apologize a number of times, but was silenced each time by an irritated glare. Scorpius next to her mirrored her posture, though wasn't quite as sorry as he probably should have been. The portrait of Severus Snape observed from overhead all throughout and was visibly straining at the effort required to not burst out laughing.

After what seemed like an eternity, the two students were issued with a weeks' worth of detention and a warning, then dismissed with a wave of a crinkled hand.

As they rose from the hard-backed chairs, a thought, a realisation, struck the red-haired Gryffindor.

'Sir?' Rose Weasley spoke up, addressing the portrait of Snape. 'My cousin is named after you. Albus Severus Potter.' Snape nodded slowly.

'Tell me Miss Weasley, what colour are his eyes?' though slightly perplexed by the question, she answered it anyway.

'They're green. Exactly like his father's.' A small smile crept onto his face when he heard this.

'Miss Weasley, if you ever get the chance, tell young Mr Potter that he has his grandmother's eyes.'

She nodded in response and smiled as she turned to leave, following Scorpius to the door. She was standing in the doorway when a familiar, black-clothed voice drawled out once more.

'Oh Miss Weasley, Mr Malfoy. A small piece of advice. Next time, don't get caught.'

They grinned as the door banged shut behind them, and could still hear the agitated voice of the Headmistress admonish the painting about "encouraging that sort of behaviour" as they walked hand in hand back to through the ancient halls.

After everything, they couldn't help but think that it was completely worth it.

A/N: Okay, I'll admit that Snape is a little bit out of character in this, but he's a painting. If that doesn't soften him I don't know what will. And part of me is sure that he's capable of laughter, even if that ability isn't demonstrated all that regularly…

Just a side note, the Headmistress isn't Professor McGonagall, but rather her replacement after she retired.

Don't be shy, tell me what you think. Loved it? Hated it? Reviews and comments are both welcome and greatly appreciated.