Hermione liked to see herself simple scholar. One who was eager to explore every inch of the Wizarding world and take on any challenge that could test her wit. When she was younger, she enjoyed reading puzzle books and trivia books trying to find the answer as quickly as possible before she had to focus on her chores or homework. It was fun to be challenged or to discover something new and Hogwarts was the pinnacle of new things to learn and facts to ingrain in her mind.

But then the Goblet of Fire happened, closely followed by Harry and Earthbound's change in personality and responses to certain topics and now, Dumbledore. The wizard she had saw as a magical genius and wise mentor was on the run for possibly grooming Harry and Earthbound for something bigger than them, bigger than Voldemort possibly.

It was a dizzying thought to mull over as she turned to her one true guide—the library to try and understand Ness's kind better only to turn up empty. The only fruit she had scrapped from the garden of knowledge was a report of a girl named Belinda Thimble, who had been reported to have a magical meltdown and followed by reports of squibs growing in numbers and increasing the protests for wizards to be Purebloods only mere months after Thimble's meltdown.

She had nothing and the few people she could turn to were under heavy suspicion, didn't wish to talk to her or were simply gone. Leaving her with more questions than answers and slowly driving her crazy as she shoved aside her need for understanding and answers and focused on Harry who was slowly but surely falling apart at the seams.

Hermione couldn't blame him. This year had been a roller coaster of emotions that jerked them around like rag-dolls and while being treated like children by those they looked up to or trusted didn't help with that feeling. It also didn't help that the few Order members that did treat them like fellow members had gone radio silent or 'betrayed' him, leaving them with very few people to reach out to.

But a small part of her wanted to blame him just so she could vent her frustrations in peace and scream. He wasn't the only one hurting at the moment, wasn't the only one forced to watch people make bad decisions and let others pay for it, he wasn't the only one who looked up to Dumbledore and saw something great.

Dumbledore was her hero as well. He had opened her eyes to a brand-new world and trusted her despite being a Muggleborn with valuable secrets and information. To see everyone believing him to be a crack pot or worse, a manipulator hurt and she desperately wanted to get to the bottom of why Dumbledore had run away from Hogwarts but couldn't. How could she? When the Wizarding world idol had been holding more secrets than a tomb of dark magic and had been shifty even before he had fled from Hogwarts?

"And now, I have to figure out where this Herbology book came from." Hermione thought as she climbed the stairs to Trelawney's office two at a time, biting her lip and tapping the cover to sooth her frazzled nerves as thoughts ran through her head. Did Earthbound put it there? Did she put it there? Or was it a hint from Dumbledore?

She couldn't tell and the book itself had so little answers. It simply had Herbology texts and the few things that weren't related to the subject made her wary and reminded her of Tom Riddle's diary. The sinking suspicion that the book was just that, another relic of dark magic that someone had wormed into her book-bag for who knows how long.

She usually cleaned it out every weekend to arrange her books and notes, but she had been so busy lately thanks to taking on much more stressful tasks than she normally would.

It was one thing to be a Prefect managing several rowdy Gryffindors and stopping Ron from blowing up at someone but now she had to keep an eye on the members of the Defensive Aegis to ensure that no one ratted them out. And while that was fine and not a taxing chore, being everyone's emotional support or the voice of reason for her friends who were on opposite spectrum of emotional turmoil made keeping up with lessons and her homework much more tiresome than usual since homework didn't pick a fight with someone or pester the people who did not want to be pestered.

"The last time I cleaned it was before Mr. Weasley was attacked…and I DO recall reading it at some point, but that was in the library after the attack." Hermione thought, turning the corner and ignoring the paintings gossiping and glancing at her as she walked by. "But I could have sworn that I put it back! And even if I did take it out without permission, Madam Pince would have told me!"

She turned another corner and paused when she heard hushed whispers coming from the end of the darkened hallway that lead up to the North Tower. Frowning as there was a loud, crazed bark of laughter followed by a trio of sharp hisses to keep quiet. The North Tower wasn't a popular place for students to hang out in. Outside of a few classes being held and Professor—er, Ms. Trelawney's office there wasn't a lot to make someone leave the central hub of the castle unless you wanted somewhere quiet to study or wish to talk to the more…colorful, paintings.

Plus, the hallway shouldn't be dark. All of the hallways were lit up with charm probably built into the castle and couldn't be removed unless you were skilled with charms or had another spell in mind that could dampen the lights without touching the first charm.

"Something's wrong." Hermione realized pulling her wand out and hissing, "Lumous," before she stepped forward and called, "Who's there? Are you hurt?"

There was another burst of maniacal laughter that sent shivers down her spine and halted any plans of approaching the trio cloaked in darkness, one of the voices hissed at the source of the laughter to calm down and another called, "It's alright Hermione! It's just us!" and lit one of the candles to reveal Fred, George and Lee Jordon in front of a horrible looking painting. It reminded Hermione of pure madness with its sullen color pallet, gaping mouth and open black eyes that seemingly saw everything.

"What are you three doing?" Hermione questioned trying to ignore how the painting was looking at her the best it could from its spot on the wall and focused on glaring at the twins, who exchanged a look while Lee casually lied, "Merely having a lovely chat with a painting."

"Right," Hermione scoffed, "Which is why the lights were out and you three were trying to keep it quiet. I swear to Merlin, if you three are trying to hex a painting to advertise your store when the teachers aren't nearby-,"

"We didn't hex that painting-!" Fred protested,

"-She willingly advertised for us after we showed her one of our products!" George stated.

"Forgive me if I don't believe you." Hermione deadpanned, moving closer to stand in the candlelight, "Now what were you three actually doing?"

Lee looked at Fred and George, waiting for their answer before Fred dropped his mischievous smile and looked serious. An expression that did not belong on any of the twins' faces as he said, "We're getting advice, Hermione."

"From a crazy painting?" Hermione questioned, glancing at the painting that was still looking at her, smiling and smothering little giggles.

"Although it's crazy," George started.

"It's wise beyond belief." Fred finished, Lee nodded in agreement as he shoved his hands into his pockets, "With all of the adults running around scrambling to keep order, there isn't a lot of time before the year is over and we have to start roughing it on our own."

"So, we'd figure we'd ask around for some advice." Fred said, giving a small shrug as George took over, "And Twisted Painting had the best."

"Twisted Painting." Hermione repeated, once again looking at the painting which gave her a big toothy grin as the twins fluidly spoke and finished the other's sentences.

"Yea, he's a little odd-,"

"—But he's very wise-"

"—So, ever since we found it before Christmas break started-,"

"-We've been asking him for advice and stuff."

"He's seen a lot of things." Lee confirmed once the twins were done with their confusing twin speak.

Hermione slowly nodded, recalling the twins' subtle but much more efficient business plan and how they had slipped under her radar as they peddled their joke ware and goods. It was like a drug cartel that she just couldn't stay on top of. Whenever she had spotted someone with one of the twins' products and confiscated it, they refused to speak and often threw the product at her if they spotted her coming and booked it.

The few she had managed to pester into talking in between monitoring Harry and Ron had stated that the twins' store was being run like a secret club and they were excited to be a part of it. It had taken her until after break to realize that they were working like a fad shop trying to survive in the harsh business world of Manchester.

Advertising their products by giving out freebies to those who stopped in and promising them rewards if they brought in more customers or were recommended by them. It was ingenious given how fast word traveled within Hogwarts walls but very subtle, the complete opposite of the twins' usual style.

"I see." She finally answered, "And you're asking for advice because…?"

The twins exchanged a look before saying in unison, "You have to promise not to tell mum."

"Swear it on your life." Lee added when Hermione gave them a hard look.

"Depends on what you troublemakers are up to." She huffed folding her arms and then flinching as the Twisted Painting began to speak.

"The Winged Lion isn't going to barter without the promise of something in return," it—he noted, his voice wobbly and excited as everyone looked at it. "No, no! Winged little Lion wishes to clear out some cobwebs in her books!"

"What?" Hermione questioned before she wondered what it meant by 'cobwebs in her books'.

"That's you, he gives everyone nicknames." Fred clarified as George explained, "I'm Tentucla Twin, Fred's the Forge Twin and Lee is Speaking River."

"Half the time, they make no sense." Lee offered throwing the Twisted Painting a mocking glare as it simply laughed in reply.

"You'd probably be best friends with it, it loves riddles." George noted, "Sometimes we spend weeks trying to decipher it's 'advice' since he can't seem to talk like a normal human being."

"Not human, not object. Simply am." Twisted Painting hummed before it focused on her, "Little Winged Lion, desperate for guidance but unable to find it thanks to the Wingless Puppet Master. For a vow of silence, I'll happily paint a few clues your way."

"So?" George pressed as Hermione blinked at it in confusion the various names he used flying over her head. "Will you keep quiet if Twisted Painting talks?" Fred questioned.

Hermione hesitated. Knowing that talking to this mysterious painting that looked nothing like the other living paintings around the castle was a horrible idea but deciding that for once. She could follow Harry's lead of throwing caution to the wind for a bit of information.

"I promise not to tell Mrs. Weasley or anyone else if you don't want me to." She answered, feeling as if she had sold her soul to a demon as the Twisted Painting gave her a big smile. Satisfied, the twins began to talk. "So, last year Harry gave us his winnings from the Triwizard tournament and told us to do whatever we wanted with them-,"

"—So, we decided to put it towards our joke shop-,"

"—But then we realized that we didn't have any products to sell since they were largely untested—

"—So, we used some eager volunteers-,"

"—Until you shut us down-,"

"—And when Dad got hurt and Mum went on a cleaning rampage and found our stuff and threw it out-,"

"—Gave us a lecture about how unprofessional we were for planning on running a joke shop-,"

"—And then everything started falling apart and we had to step up and be mature-,"

They paused to give dramatic expressions of disgust before they continued.

"—So, with no products to test, everything falling apart and no hope of getting enough things to sell in our future store.—"

"—We remembered our good friend Twisted Painting who gave us advice before and went to him—"

"He told us to use our already eager customers to create a black market of trade and advised we make subtle gag things to stay under your radar—"

"—We did and volia! We had a growing customer base, safely tested products and enough peace and quiet to focus on scouting out a location for our store! —"

"—Only, we're still in school and thanks to Mum's secret book club-,"

"—We can't scout out a location in Diagon Alley which means we can't keep our promise of opening over summer break.—

"—So, we were asking our good friend Twisted Painting—"

"—How to sneak out of school and search around Diagon Alley for a good location." They finished, flashing Hermione a bright smile as she processed that, then covered her mouth to muffle her sharp exclamation of, "You two are planning on ditching school to scout locations?!"

"Of course," Fred answered while George chirped, "It's our last year and frankly, we don't need to worry about or tests and things."

"The only thing they have to worry about is the teachers realizing that they aren't in the building and searching for them." Lee explained with a frown, "Since they're dad is so close to the Ministry and possibly connected to Dumbledore, they might want to keep them close to Hogwarts."

"Hence, our problem and need for advice." George finished, "Sadly, you interrupted just when we got the Twisted Painting thinking of sneaking in and out of school."

"Pop, crackle, pop! A quick escape in between rest and break! Slip away from the castle and ditch your scales to search anew!" Twisted Painting offered, laughing as they looked at him in confusion before it dawned on the twins.

Prompting a rushed, half spoken conversation that Hermione summed up in a few words. Sneak out in between classes, use floo powder or apperate to Diagon Alley, ditch their school uniforms and start hunting down a location.

"Thanks, Twisted Painting!" Fred called as they dragged Lee away to finalize their plan, "You're the best!" George sang, giving a delighted cheer as Lee laughed and asked them to slow down.

Leaving her alone with the smiling painting. "Er, hello." Hermione stated stepping in front of it so he could properly see her and realizing that this was a horrible idea.

"Little Winged Lion, searching for answers she cannot keep~," the Twisted Painting sang its smiling growing and it's eyes turning into a cartoony half-moon flipped upside down, "You should be careful Little Winged Lion, knowledge comes with a price."

"I know that, but I just have a few questions." Hermione stated her mind racing for her first question as the painting hummed with amusement. What should she ask about first? The mysterious book? Dumbledore's disappearance? Ness's powers and where they came from? So many things, so little time.

"What…what is Professor Kale's connection to Dumbledore? Is he a powerful seer? Or is it something else?"

Twisted Painting blinked, its eyes scrunching up and leaning off to the side before it blinked again and grinned. "Oh! You mean the Star Prophet! Or, as you Soot covered Whisperers call them, Cosmic Squibs!"

Hermione blinked and grabbed a clean sheet of paper and a quill from her bag, hastily writing down all of the names the painting said as it—he waited for her to finish.

"Star Prophet never had a connection to Wingless Puppet Master. He's here simply because the Wingless Puppet Master wishes to be a hero and is tangling things he shouldn't be meddling with." Twisted Painting explained, "Wingless Puppet Master brought him here to feed him prophecies and warnings to have a better idea of what to expect. In fact, it was because of the Star Prophet that the Wingless Puppet Master ran away to Eagle land!"

"He tricked him?" Hermione questioned, flinching as the Twisted Painting's color darkened before returning to their sullen hue.

"Trick is a harsh word. Star Prophet merely stretched the truth. Prophecies are riddles! But not all of them are meant to be solved."

"Do you know what the prophecy was?"

"The seers intertwined with fog and space shall choose a path together and watch as a kingdom crumbles from the meddling of man, when four unite and a squib is born the ruins shall echo a warning and the eagle's shadow, raised from land shall rise into the sky once more." The Twisted Painted recited, smiling as Hermione hurriedly wrote it down and studied it with a cryptic gaze.

The first part was easy, the seers were Professor Trelawney and Kale and they had chosen a path that went opposite of their decision-hence Dumbledore's surprise-to oppose the meddling of the Ministry. The four houses uniting, and the squib being born was the DA's birth and death at the hands of Edgecombe who had paid the price for attempting to protect her mother from Umbridge's corrupted leverage over lesser Ministry workers.

But the last part threw her off. The ruins shall echo a warning? Eagle's shadow raised from land shall rise into the sky once more? What did an eagle have to do with magic and why were the ruins echoing a warning?

What were the ruins that echoed? Nothing was in shambles or about to be destroyed so…what was it?

"I'll have to look this over later." Hermione decided, lowering her quill and looking back up at the Twisted Painting.

"Where's 'Eagle Land'?"

"Winged Lion doesn't know?" Twisted Painting asked, looking a little surprised as Hermione shook her head no, "There isn't a place named that anywhere in the world."

The Twisted Painting seemed greatly unsettled by this, the colors darkening into a muddy hue as its mouth and eyes twisted and writhed in confusion before moving on, "Well, Eagle Land is the home country of Ness."

"But it doesn't exist…" Hermione mentally protested, forcing herself to nod and add a note asking where Eagle Land was. "And Dumbledore's heading there? Why?"

"Don't know, don't care. I'm just glad the Wingless Puppet Master is gone." Twisted Painting hummed, "Wingless Puppet Master had to close an eye on Ness, much to close. He knew our 'race' and wished to corral us once everything settled down."

"Race? There are more of you?"

"Many more! Brought to life by our master! Sent us here to protect Ness!" Twisted Painting stated before he flashed her a nasty grin, "But be careful~ Master doesn't like noisy little Winged Lions or meddling Wingless Puppet Masters."

Hermione took a wary step back, feeling sick as the colors began to swirl and spin in a hypnotizing pattern. Forcing her to focus on his nasty grin which was staying still within the mess, "Those who meddle merely wake him up and reach out for knowledge. And those who have knowledge, are of use to him. To us."

"I-I see. Was your Master the one who reached out to Harry?" Hermione questioned, the urge to throw up rising as the colors swirled faster and faster, "Maybe he was, maybe he wasn't. All that matters is that noisy little wizards-" Hermione barely had time to turn around and run before the Twisted Painting cackled. "-should burn!"

The world exploded into white color as something maniacal and crazed wordlessly screeched, "Proruo Lámpsi!" hitting Hermione square in the face and feeling her legs give out underneath her and her face slam hard into the cold stone floor.

It felt like an eternity as she fought the urge to hurl or cry at how dumb she was to try and talk with a mysterious painting that had been hiding within the castle before the white screen in front of her eyes receded and allowed her to make the vague outline of the walls and empty paintings around her.

Had they all fled when the Twisted Painting had been talking? Or did they flee at the sight of them? Hermione wasn't sure and she wasn't sure she wanted to know as she forced her legs to work and shakily walked to the stairs.

Her breathing erratic as the signs of the crazy painting being obviously dangerous flooded into her mind and she realized it was well past Ron's quidditch practice and that she had missed dinner.

"I need Madam Pomfrey." Hermione thought, shakily grabbing onto the banister as if it was a lifeline and carefully climbing down it before a wave of vertigo forced her to sit down and curl into a tight ball to stave off the urge of throwing up her lunch.

"Come on, I can make it!" but her feeble thoughts of encouragement failed as she recalled climbing at least nine flights of stairs and walking through who knows how many hallways to reach the North Tower. There was no way she was getting back, not without help.

And only Fred and George knew exactly where she was.

Sure, Harry and Ron could check the North Tower, but they would have figured she'd finished by then and move to check the libraries first before searching the castle.

She was doomed and left alone with no paintings to possibly ask for help.

"You idiot." Hermione cursed a sob escaping her as she dropped her head into her knees, gripping onto the railing bar to steady her balance as she tried to swallow her tears and sharp gasps of air.

"Miss Granger?"

And now there was someone there, able to witness her meltdown and utterly pathetic display as she forced herself to look up and find Professor—no, she wasn't a professor anymore—Trelawney looking at here through her giant glasses and carrying a few books.

"Oh my, did you run into that awful painting?" Trelawney asked, levitating her books into the air before she pulled Hermione to her feet, "Come along, you need some tea."

She wanted to protest, to collect herself and ask about Kale but all she could do was give a tight-lipped nod and lean heavily on the older woman as they walked up to her office.

It was decorated just like her classroom, fluffy and heavy with the smell of burned candles with a heavy liberal of mystic colors and frozen pictures of her and Kale smiling in front of a building.

"Here, sit down while I make some tea." Trelawney ordered, her voice soft and firm as she placed a waste basket in front of her and moved over to a small kitchen set up with a collection of tea pots and cups.

Hermione tried to decline but all that came out of her mouth was a slew of syllables as she hurled the remains of her lunch right into the basket.

"It's a horrible thing, giving out riddles and harassing the other paintings." Trelawney was saying once Hermione lifted her head away from the wastebasket and the urge to vomit had subsided a bit, "Honestly, if I could I'd get rid of it but it's too well hidden."

"You've spoken with it before?" Hermione croaked, pulling her handkerchief out of her pocket to lessen the taste of stewed beef and jam lingering in her mouth.

"Not really, Kale has had arguments with it. It seems to respect him." Trelawney answered, placing a cup of sweet-smelling tea—ginger and some crackers in front of her before sitting on a starry purple beanbag.

"They simply like to hang around the North Tower." She finished before gesturing to her cup and taking a long sip from her tea.

Hermione mutely nodded and blew on her tea, her mind sluggishly finding the reason for even coming to the North Tower as they sat in silence.

"Um, Pro…Trelawney," Hermione started once the taste of bile was out of her mouth and her stomach hadn't rejected the bittersweet tea and crackers, "Do you recognize this book?"

"A book?" Trelawney questioned, a frown appearing as Hermione reached into her bag and presented it to Trelawney, "I found this in my bag, but I never picked it up. My friends and I thought that Kale might have left it behind since he gave us a few cryptic hints."

"Oh, Astra wouldn't have done that." Trelawney said, her eyes glazing over and a dreamy but fond smile appearing on her face. "Astra was very straight forward with his predictions and would even translate them if you asked. He wasn't a fan of the 'side quest' he claimed you'd do to figure out a prophecy."

"He was…?" Hermione questioned recalling his last prophecy which had been a small headache until they connected the dots.

"Oh yes, I mean. He wasn't always clear when it came to predictions with multiply branches but when it was something simple like, 'the skies shall darken and bring forth an event' he would bluntly tell you there would possibly be a series of bad storms heading his way."

"Multiple branches?" Hermione repeated, biting back a grimace as Trelawney brightened and began to move her hands as she spoke, "Oh yes. Most people believe that prophecies are a straightforward riddle. But they aren't, many of them have branches depending on how you interpret it. There isn't a wrong or right way, you simply have to use the clues given to you to hash out a clear picture and watch for which signs point to the right person."

"Kale's seems straight forward enough." Hermione noted, "He hasn't told a lot of his predictions, but they always seem to come true."

"That's because Astra's a different divination of the future." Trelawney explained, looking a little excited, "He may look to the stars and use astronomy to find the correct path but most of the time he simply has to look up to the stars to gain a picture of what may happen. His are only simpler since he doesn't have as many cogs in his 'machine'. As he likes to call it."

And this was why Hermione dropped out of Divination, too much guess work and beliefs that you should leave it to fate and do nothing to make heads or tails of anything. She'd like facts that stayed in place thank you very much, not constantly moving pieces on a jello chess board.

Trelawney must have sensed her frustration since she quickly tried to clarify herself. "It's um, like this. My predictions rely heavily on other tools and fate to take control of the wheel and are often heavy subjects like when one will die or make a great change in the system. Astra's are simplistic, merely warnings of things to come and can be tweaked if you understand it well enough."

"Which is how you predicted Harry's death. Repeatedly." Hermione deadpanned, biting back a scowl as the woman tittered, "He will die, his time merely keeps changing. Astra agrees that something is…off about Potter but we can't figure out what other than his connection to a prophecy or two."

"Harry's in a prophecy?" Hermione questioned, looking at the woman in disbelief as Trelawney gave an excited nod, "Oh yes! When Dumbledore was interviewing me, I gave him three prophecies! It was quite a shock since Astra and I didn't predict anything of the sort happening! Granted, according to Astra it was worrisome, and he feared Dumbledore may get the wrong idea but, it happened and now we simply have to live with it."

"What was it about?" Hermione pressed, scowling when Trelawney shrugged her shoulders and drank her tea. "Don't know, I black out when I give prophecies and Astra usually keeps track of them in his little notebook."

"You don't remember anything?"

"Other than the fact that it made Astra uncomfortable and mentioned some hero who was American and cursed by magic, no. Not much." Trelawney admitted, "It happened so long ago that it didn't seem important."

Hermione couldn't swallow her disappointed, "Oh," before she changed the topic. "What's Kale like? You speak very fondly of him."

"Oh, Astra is wonderful." Trelawney exclaimed a smile growing as she began to ramble, "We met a few months after I divorced my first husband and hit it off like tea and tea leaves! He's just so…refreshing to be around! Always listening to my predictions or sharing his with me, teaching me how muggle technology works—did you know muggles have something called defense spray? It's very helpful for your defenses if your attacked by wild animals apparently."

No, but that was probably because defense spray didn't exist. But Hermione thoughtfully didn't point this out and simply listened to the woman's rambles.

"He's oh so polite—well unless you make him mad. One time, we went to a muggle bar with one of his friends, Fate Tailor and they got into a brawl and won! It was fascinating to since Astra always goes on about the importance of carrying his brass knuckles around with him and Fate insists that a pair of scissors are a viable weapon!"

"Scissors." Hermione deadpanned, "Was Mr. Tailor a wizard…?"

"Oh no," Trelawney exclaimed, "He's a squib! He simply plucked a sharp pair of scissors out of his bag used them like tiny claws, and when that didn't work, he tied people up with thread!"

"You're…joking."

"No! It was amazing! Although now that I think about it, Astra has a lot of squib or muggle friends."

"That isn't normal?" Hermione questioned, "I mean, Astra is a squib."

"Well, it is normal I suppose, but they're all so random and exciting to be around!" Trelawney explained, "Like…oh, what was her name? She ran a toy store while she was in this advance muggle school for something and—oh yes! Maybell Jones! She's always carrying around this giant bear with her and some lollipops, insisting that they're medicine and once she hands over the family business that she's going to become a doctor."

Maybell Jones…that name sounded very familiar. But where had she heard it…?

"And then there's William Clockwork, he's a reporter of some sort at the Mystic Informer and he's very particular about time." Trelawney rambled, ignorant of Hermione's expression and slight disinterest as she spoke, "One time, Mary and I decided to purposely be late for an event and he threatened to bludgeon us with his pocket watch! He almost did until Astra distracted him with something!"

"Mary?" Hermione interrupted, frowning as Trelawney nodded and said, "Mary Sue, odd name but she's a charming woman!"

"Does Mary Sue work at Mystic Informer?" Hermione questioned, her frown deepening as Trelawney nodded, "She's a journalist and she's quite persuasive when she wants to be. Mary may look like she would never hurt a fly, but good lord does that woman have a temper! I once predicted my own death if I didn't hurry up and return her book to her!"

"Does Kale know a lot of people at Mystic Informer?" Hermione pressed, feeling that she was missing a big piece to a giant puzzle as Trelawney thought it over.

"Well, I suppose so. But it makes sense."

"It does?"

"Well, they're parents and friends were kidnapped from Summers—lovely little place and Threed by some followers of this extremist group." Trelawney explained her smile dimming as she spoke, "Astra believes that they were killed and always held a grudge against magic."

"Why?" Hermione asked, making a mental note to look up Summers and Threed later as Trelawney hesitated before shaking her head, "It isn't my place to say. Astra merely had a bad experience with wizards and Dumbledore didn't help that."

Kale didn't trust Dumbledore? Why? Did he suspect that something was amiss with the older wizard?

"Astra always said that Dumbledore had to many cards in his hands and didn't understand why it was safer for him to teach at a school rather than stay home." Trelawney explained, picking up on Hermione's silent question "He had such a terrible time trying to adjust to being surrounded by magic. I don't think he ever felt at home here until all of that craziness started and filled the air with chaos."

Hermione frowned, wondering why Ness's little minions stirring up trouble would sooth anyone but didn't ask. It was clear that Trelawney wasn't going to divulge in why Kale felt the way he did and that she was starting to suspect something was amiss with Hermione's pointed questions.

So, with a tentative smile she stood up and thanked Trelawney for her time and the crackers before moving to leave only to be stopped when Trelawney called, "Be careful of your dreams Miss Granger, your tea leaf warns of a great danger looming towards you and your friends."

"Thank you, but I doubt that will happen." Hermione replied, mentally kicking herself for reminding Trelawney that she didn't believe in divination but stopped when she noticed that Trelawney didn't seem upset at her remark. Only sad and pitying. It sent shivers down her spine and urged her to hurry back to Gryffindor Tower to inform Ron and Harry about her discoveries. Well, if they were still up of course. She had spent more time at the West Tower than she had thought.

Although suffering from...whatever the Twisted Painting had done to her hadn't helped in making sure she didn't overstay her visit at the West Tower.


11 out of 12!

One of the worst parts of creating a backlog is coming back to something I put in the story just to sound witty or smart and then forgetting what made it witty in the first place. -_-;

Also, while editing this chapter I realized that Trelawney was actually RIGHT about Harry dying! (Well, sort of.) Although know I'm wondering how the heck Harry's death even worked since he was part horcrux (Unless I'm misremembering that.) thanks to Voldemort failing to kill him the first time thanks to Lily trying to protect him and then succeeded at the final battle somehow since horcruxes could only be killed/destroyed by special plot macguffins and I'm pretty sure the killing curse wasn't one of the macguffins you could use.

Does being half a horcrux make you only partically resistant to killing curses?