Harry Jr. and the Ministry's Secret Chapter 05 Disclaimer: JKR's characters, places, and ideas do not belong to me.

A/N: Thanks to all the reviewers! Harry Potter himself reviewed! Apologies for the delay.

Several responses and comments follow, with others ansered in this chapter . . .

1.) Cho does not need a wand to transfigure. (My mistake!)

2.) I had neither the information nor the patience to accord the wands situation with the canon. (The Antarctic Dove belongs to me).

3.) Making Cho a Christian is definitely an inference--though a feasible one. However, I will reduce the religious references in order to make this fic apply as universally as possible.

4.) I haven't quite found the right personality for Cho. Quaffle's Cho already has the best personality, and my conscience won't let me steal her from said author.

5.) I try to avoid too many parallels to the canon, but this avoidance puts more strain on my (limited) creativity. My trio will try to entertain you as best as they can.

6.) Please pretend that Cho answered questions about transfig, and not about wizarding medicine, at the conference. I fell into the Mary Sue trap and am trying to correct my error. In keeping with the mythological spirit of the fic, I could also refer to this tendency as the Pygmalion-Galatea effect :-)

7.) I hope the "subtle" H/C shipping hasn't scared anybody away. Not to start a debate or anything, but some people have just not seen the light . . . Wait! I was just kidding! Please come back!

Without further ado . . .

Chapter 5: Paintings and Prophecies

Junior and his friends planned to spend the night quietly. After dinner, they secured a spot in the common room and set their heavy backpacks down. Junior took out his history textbook to read up on Grindenwald.

There was a loud sound that sounded like a small explosion. Junior turned his head to see colorful sparks bursting from the spot where the sound had likely originated.

"Not one of those things," said Will with irritation.

"Hey sorry Will," said Daniel apologetically. "We're just playing with that new toy from Triple W."

"We know," said Jenny ruefully. "It was a real big hit at the last family get-together."

"Yeah," added Will with amusement. "Uncle Fred and Uncle George debuted them for the whole family around New Year's. I've never seen Grandma Molly get so irate. A certain something caught on fire . . . "

Junior chuckled. He hadn't been there, but he partly wished he had--if only to see Mrs. Molly Weasley screaming furiously at her twin sons. Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes had the funniest and most ridiculous distractions for young wizards.

"Cool," said Marcus. Marcus and Scott had already spent enough time with Andy and Daniel to become trouble-makers. "So you get to see all the 3 Dub products in advance?"

"Just around the holidays," said Will. "I've got a stash of them at home."

"Oh," said Marcus. He looked back at his friends, who were grinning at him mischievously. "Have fun studying," he said, and the goof balls resumed their noisy game. After a minute, it was evident that they had probably already forgotten about their pledge to keep the noise down.

"I was just thinking." That was Will's voice. Junior looked up. "I was just thinking," he continued, "about the Death Eaters. Nowhere in this book does it say how they got their name. Honestly. How does one eat death? I'd personally be more scared of somebody who ate actual food--you know, stuff with real nutritive value?"

Junior couldn't help but laugh with Will and Jenny. These days, people could reflect on the events of the previous generation and could feel free to poke fun at them.

They were all looking up from their books, so Junior decided to finally tell them. "So," he said casually, "do you want to hear about something interesting I saw this afternoon?"

"What is it?" asked Will curiously.

"You mean just before transfig?" asked Jenny. Her eyes had returned to the book, but she obviously hadn't resumed reading.

"Yeah," said Junior. "I saw something written in Parselmouth."

Will and Jenny now stared at him with shocked expressions on their faces. A few nearby heads turned towards him for a brief moment.

This irritated Junior. "What's the big deal, anyway?" He didn't wait for a response. "It's another language--like Spanish or French. Anyway, the writing was some kind of prophecy."

"Prophecy?" echoed Will.

"About some Dark Lord of Night and Day, a king, a war, and the Intersection of the Lines saving the day by solving a puzzle." Junior hoped that they would be able to put together what he could not.

"And has your father seen it?" asked Jenny.

"Not yet," said Junior.

"Maybe you read it wrong," said Will. "Or it's a joke or something . . . "

"Nice try, Will," said Junior. "I know you don't want me adventuring, but don't worry. It's not for me; it's for that Intersection of the Lines guy."

"Or girl," corrected Jenny.

"Or girl," Junior conceded with exasperation. He chuckled. "Like you could be this intersection person."

Jenny glared at him. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Oh Jen," said Will with fatigue. "Don't be so defensive. He's just trying to bother you, right Junior?"

"Yeah," said Junior with resignation. Jenny gave him a disapproving look. "Why'd you have to spoil the fun so early? Sometimes you're such a killjoy." Will just gave him a knowing look, which made Junior slightly uncomfortable. What was there to know?

"Hi all," said a familiar voice behind Junior.

"Hey Charles," said Will and Jenny.

Junior turned around to see their friend with a heavy book bag on his back. He looked exhausted. "Hi Charles," said Junior.

Charles nodded at him. "So how's the studying?"

"Um, we haven't gotten much done yet," said Will. "Here, sit down. Drop that bag of yours, too."

"Suppose I should," said Charles, and he settled down next to Junior and across from Will and Jenny.

"You've been in the library all this time?" asked Jenny.

"Yes I have," said Charles with a tired voice. "But it hasn't been all work," he added quickly. I finished researching my roots, too. You know, looking for a trace of wizard blood."

"And?" asked Junior curiously.

"My great-great-great-great-great-grandmother attended this very school long ago," Charles said proudly.

"Wow, that's great," said Will.

"Fantastic!" said Junior.

"Astounding," chimed in Jenny.

"My Mum tried to trace her roots," said Junior, not really wanting to change the subject, "but she quit eventually."

"That's it!" exclaimed Jenny. Junior looked at her with a confused expression, and so did Will. "You're the one, Junior!" she said excitedly.

"I'm the what?" asked Junior.

"You're the Intersection of the Lines!" exclaimed Jenny.

Will just gaped at her. "What were we talking about, again?" asked Junior.

"You're the dual heir," said Jenny, who was obviously trying to be patient, "the intersection of the bloodlines of both Gryffindor and Ravenclaw!"

Charles looked around at them. "I think I've missed something."

Jenny excitedly filled Charles in.

"Ah! That sounds right!" he exclaimed, and then his voice contained some amusement. "Aren't you glad I mentioned genealogy?"

"Wait a minute," said Will in a serious tone. "Let's not leap to conclusions. It could be the intersection of any two lines. What's so special about Gryffindor and Ravenclaw? How sure are we that your Mum was the heir of Ravenclaw? And . . . what if the prophecy's already been fulfilled . . . or if it's not supposed to be fulfilled for centuries? And also, how do you know that the "lines" are bloodlines? They could be any kind of line." Will covered just about every possibility.

"All true," conceded Junior. "But none of those scenarios make me feel important." He smiled mischievously, and Will gave him a frustrated expression. "Mum always wondered if she was the heir of Ravenclaw, but she ran into a dead-end tracing her roots. Her ancestors' history is really complicated."

"We're going to a professor," said Will. "Your Dad! He'd know what to do."

"Oh honestly Will," said Jen. "Junior's Dad's likely not the dual heir. And besides, it's nothing dangerous like his Dad had to go through. It's just some puzzle."

"You never know," retorted Will. "I personally don't want my friend to die at 11 years of age. But if you want to risk it, well, then that's your opinion."

"You have to be so dramatic, don't you Will?" said Jenny angrily. "I said it's just a puzzle!"

"And Junior's Dad didn't look for trouble," Will continued as if he didn't hear a word of what she had said. "This whole 'being a hero is fun' attitude is kind of disturbing."

"Junior's not looking for trouble either!" exclaimed Jenny. "If he alone can prevent some terrible war--"

"Okay, okay!" exclaimed Junior in an effort to keep the peace. "I'll talk to Dad, and then maybe to Mum, and then we'll go check the painting."

"Painting?" asked Charles.

"Er, yeah, it's of a dark landscape," clarified Junior. "Dark blue, cloudy sky. Tall grassy hills. A stream at the bottom. And some dark trees in the distance. The painting's just a short walk past the transfig classroom."

***

At breakfast the next morning--a Wednesday morning--Junior looked to fulfill his promise. His first class was Care of Magical Creatures at 8, but he convinced his friends to go early with him to the Great Hall.

It was a quarter past seven, and the hall was definitely quieter and had much fewer students. Junior spotted his parents immediately. They were laughing with some other members of the faculty, including Carolyn Green.

Ms. Green was a talkative lady, and a long-time friend of his mother from Hogwarts. She visited occasionally, and she was well read and had a good sense of humor. She had blonde, curly hair and was tall and skinny. As usual, she was wearing her glasses.

Two letters fell on Junior's head, and, without stopping to acknowledge the owl, he bent down to pick the envelopes off the floor. He decided to look at them later and then continued to head for the staff table. His parents and Ms. Green greeted Junior as he approached them. They were talking excitedly, and other staff members were shaking his Mum's hand cheerfully.

"So have you heard the news about your mother yet?" asked Ms. Green anxiously. They all smiled at him. "She found out a little bit ago. I'm so happy for her!"

"What? Not again!" blurted out Junior. How . . . how could they do this to him? He didn't need more responsibilities right now. School would already be difficult enough to handle . . .

His parents and Ms. Green gave him confused looks.

"Again, Junior?" echoed his mother curiously. "I'm sorry, but I don't quite understand . . . "

"Cho," his father blurted out suddenly. She looked at him, but he decided not to finish his sentence. The trace of a smile could be seen on his face.

Junior just stared at them. "Mum? Are you pregnant again?" he asked incredulously.

Suddenly, his parents and Ms. Green looked like they were going to laugh at Junior, but they all caught themselves. Junior must have looked mortified for the last few seconds.

His Mum bit her lip, and then she spoke. "Um, Junior . . . I don't think . . . well, it's just a misunderstanding." The last part was added awkwardly, and then his mother looked at Ms. Green with a slightly angry expression that elicited an apologetic look from his mother's friend. "Though I understand how you could be confused," his mother added quickly. A grin broke out on her face, and then she added excitedly, "Actually, it turns out that Goldman Press will publish my book. I received the letter this morning." She grinned at him. "Didn't think it would happen, did you?" she teased.

Junior felt relieved, but also embarrassed. His father and Ms. Green had a much harder time restraining their laughter. His father turned his attention to his food, but there was a smile on his face. Ms. Green had a hand over her mouth, and she was keeping her eyes fixed on his Mum and away from him.

"Of . . . of course I did, Mum," said Junior. The first chapter of the book had left a big impression on him. Unfortunately, he hadn't had the chance to read any farther. "That's . . . that's great." She beamed at him. Well, she had reason to be proud. Having to take care of the kids at home and wanting to do some extracurricular work led to his mother's writing at home. Computers still confused her, and so she still wrote everything out first in flowing script with quill, ink, and parchment.

Calm and rationality returned to Junior. He might as well say what he had wanted to. "Well, I stopped by because . . . Dad, I saw this painting past Mum's classroom a little ways. Have you seen it? A dark landscape?"

"No, son," said his father slowly.

"I've seen it," said his mother. "It has a lot of squiggly lines in the grass, right?"

"Yes, that's it," said Junior. "Well, those squiggly lines that you saw, I saw them as writing."

His father stared at him. "It sounds like Parselmouth," he said seriously.

"Right," said Junior. "So here's what it said: There will be a terrible war and the rising of a Dark Lord unless the Intersection of the Lines solves the puzzle."

His parents looked at each other in shock.

"Junior," said his mother softly, "it sounds like this Intersection is you. I never determined conclusively if I'm a descendant of Ravenclaw, but the evidence suggests it's a strong possibility." She looked around the table. "Felix," she said towards Professor Concolor.

Concolor, who was a few seats away from Junior's father, turned around to look at her. "Yes, Cho?"

"Have you heard of any dual heirs among the descendants of Hogwarts' Founders?"

"Hmm. . . no," he said confidently. "It's possible, but the lines all went their separate ways after the Founders parted, and so the probability is very small."

This is exactly what Junior wanted to hear. His mother thanked Concolor, and then the man returned to his conversation with Snape and Cronus.

His father's brow furrowed, and then he spoke. "I want to take a look at this painting. Where is it, exactly?"

"Er," said Junior. "Well, I'd have to show you. It's really hard to explain." He looked at his watch. "Sorry, have to go eat breakfast before class. Nice talking to you, Ms. Green!" With that chipper comment, he left quickly. Why he decided to lie and not just tell his Dad the directions was beyond him.

***

Junior began to return to the Gryffindor table, carrying the letters in his hand. He picked one randomly. It was sent by . . . Mr. and Mrs. Harry Potter? It took him a while to realize that his siblings back home must have sent it. Excitedly, he rushed the last short distance to the table.

"What took you so long?" asked Will, though there wasn't much edge to his voice.

"Er, well, Ms. Green confused about me about, er, something. Anyway, after I told her what the painting said, my Mum told me that the Intersection was probably me!"

"And that's what I said!" exclaimed Jenny gleefully.

"Yes, it seems you were quite right," agreed Charles.

"But . . ." said Will. "But how does she know that the prophecy is a current one?"

"I . . . don't know," said Junior, "but Concolor said that he can't remember any dual heirs in history."

"Do you think they know something we don't?" asked Jenny. A silence followed.

Junior looked around the Great Hall. People started to fill up the hall, and soon it would be time to leave for class.

"I don't believe much in prophecies anyway," said Will finally.

"It depends on the prophet," contributed Charles. "Right?"

"Categorically, I don't believe in prophecies," clarified Will.

Jenny chuckled to herself. "That Ms. Green," she said to herself with amusement.

"What about her?" asked Will.

"Come on, Junior," she said innocently, "what did she confuse you about?"

"Er . . . " began Junior. "I thought she was saying my Mum was pregnant, but actually she was saying that my Mum's first book would be published." He saw their bewildered expressions. "You had to be there to understand," he added.

"Well, that's a relief," said Will. He tore off a piece of muffin and stuffed it in his mouth.

"The first part or the second?" asked Junior, opening his family's letter as he did so.

"Both," said Jenny. She picked up her goblet and took a sip of orange juice.

Junior looked back at his parents and Ms. Green, who were bantering like only they could do. As he ate some more of his breakfast, the words of his mother ran through his mind, and he suddenly realized that he knew more than he wanted to know.

To get his mind off that, Junior took out the letter from his family:

Dear Junior,

Hi from all your sibs! We hope everything's going great! Here's a quick update.

Emily's taking charge around here. She ordered me, Bobby, to write this. She insisted on looking this over, too. She's been a bit bossy, but we love her.

Junior saw an arrow from the end of this sentence to the margin, where a note said in different handwriting:

(Ed. note--he's exaggerating--about the siblings loving her!)

Emily's comment made Junior smile to himself, and then he finished reading the letter:

Jes is playing the piano even more than usual. Something about a recital in a few weeks. Grace is being her usual fun self and is receiving a half dozen letters every day from friends. Tommy goes out with us guys and Grace when we play catch with Dad. Maggie and Joey are generally behaving well. Mum's hoping that her book will be published. She's started to read it to us instead of the old bedtime stories. And Dad, well, you can guess.

Write back. Tell us everything. How are Will and Jen? Are your classes good? Who are your roommates? Anyway, say hi to Will and Jenny and have fun!

Love,
Bobby . . . and Emily, Jes, Gracie, Tommy, Maggie, and Joey

P.S. Kristina Malfoy and her parents--you-know, the actors!--came by to visit yesterday. Kristie said to tell you hi. You know how Kristie and Emily are almost the same. I don't know how they get along so well!

Junior chuckled. Emily and Kristina both had dominant personalities. They were always considered themselves right; they always thought they had the answers. They had roughly equal smarts and very different looks. While Emily had jet black hair and hazel, almond shaped eyes, Kristie had a slightly upturned nose and long, wavy red hair. The oddest similarity was their view on boys. Neither one of them showed much interest in the opposite sex compared to their friends. Whenever Jenny added herself to the mix, you had a recipe for trouble.

"Ooh, can I see that?" asked Jenny to break Junior's train of thought.

"Oh sure," he said distractedly as he handed it to her, and then he looked at the other envelope. Surprisingly, it was from . . .

"Pallas Moore," said Junior distractedly.

"Tell your siblings about your wonderful new friend Charles," said Charles.

The others grinned at him.

"Read it aloud," said Will.

Junior, Will, and Jenny--

If you're reading this, then I've succeeded in getting through to you. Let me make this clear: I don't care for the petty inter-house feud that Spate wishes to perpetuate--like I even care for Slytherin and those ancient "traditionalists". I want to succeed for myself. If you want to make me out as some kind of villain, then you're ignoring the blatant facts. Honestly, I'd expect more from you. Congratulations Jenny on turning the quill into a ruler. Word spreads around quickly here, if you haven't already noticed.

--Pallas

***

Junior and his friends made their way to their eight o'clock class: Care of Magical Creatures with the Ravenclaws.

Rufus Cronus glared at them and the other students as all the students gathered around the cabin. His thick beard and curly mustache were white as snow. Some students cringed noticeably as they approached him and stood outside in a circle.

Junior stole a look at Julie and suddenly planned to coax his friends into standing close to where she was. However, they had already walked to the other side of the circle.

"Good morning," said Professor Cronus. "Now, today we'll be working with Wunkerskunks today. See them penned over there?"

Junior saw some large rodent-like creatures with white and black striped furry coats. They paced around nervously and communicated to each other in high-pitched tones.

"They look like and smell like big skunks," continued Cronus. "And they will release their stink if you taunt or poke them. For everybody else's sake, use your head. If anyone shows any signs of provoking them, they'll automatically lose 10 points. Do it again, and it's detention. Now follow me to the back and we'll take a look at them."

Cronus didn't seem amused at all the entire class, but the students laughed as they fed the Wunkerskunks. The students would put little nuts and berries in a small basket at the end of a stick, and then they would give the food to the chained creatures. The point of the sticks was to keep one's distance away from them.

"He must have got the job because of the ability to handle them, but it looks like he hates this job," said Will quietly. They were out of Cronus' hearing range at the moment.

"He's definitely not the warm and cuddly type," said Jenny. "Like these adorable things," she said lovingly, referring to the creatures.

Junior rolled his eyes. "So what do you think about Pallas?" he asked.

"He's rather rude, though of course we may have a slight tendency to misjudge him," conceded Will.

"Remember that he has plenty of problems," said Jenny.

"Bet he has to look out for his Mum," contributed Junior.

"Bet he doesn't," said Will.

Junior snuck in another look at Julie. It looked like Melissa was suspecting his crush, but he assumed that she wouldn't tell anybody. "Julie's hair gloriously cascades down her back like water in a waterfall--and like, er, other things that cascade." His eyes stayed fixed on her.

"Uh, Junior," said Will, jolting Junior, "do you realize you just said that out loud?"

"Oh," said Junior with realization, and he quickly turned his head away. His face flushed, and he quickly returned to feeding his Wunkerskunk.

***

The ten o'clock was Charms with the Hufflepuffs. Junior convinced his friends to sit over next to Jason, and Jason looked pleasantly surprised when they sat close to him.

Marcus, Scott, Jolina, and Linda sat around the same area. Jolina, Linda, and a tiny girl named Malita Stone were Jenny's roommates.

The professor had had his back to them the whole time, and all they could see was his diminutive stature and balding head. He turned around suddenly, and they witnessed him in full glory. The little white hair that Professor Thomas Baggle had did not look combed at all. He wore thick black spectacles and the buttons of his robes were mismatched such that one half of his collar was higher than the other. Moreover, he didn't seem to be wearing any socks . . .

"Good morning children," he said in a chipper tone. "I'm . . . uh . . . Professor Baggle . . . let me just write that on the board, then." He glanced back at the shelf on the blackboard. " . . . well that's funny . . . if I could only find my piece of chalk . . . "

Junior heard everyone around him suppress laughter, and then Junior realized why. There was a large piece of chalk in Baggle's right hand.

"Um . . . professor," said Jenny.

Baggle turned around. "Yes?"

"Um, the chalk's . . . in your hand?" said Jenny tentatively.

Baggle looked at his left hand, and then saw it in his right. "Ah! So it is!" he exclaimed. "Right then." He turned around and started writing. "B-A-G-G-L-E. There." Using supreme self-control, Junior fought the urge to burst into laughter. "Now," he said. "I''m not very good with names."

"That's a surprise," muttered Will, and Junior and Jenny were going red from stopping themselves from laughing.

"So, if you'll just . . . please try to help me . . . uh . . . learn them, then that would be greatly appreciated. What was your name, my young helper?" He looked at Jenny.

"Jenny Weasley," she said.

"Wonderful," said Baggle, and then he turned around and began writing.

Junior noticed that Baggle was writing incredibly fast and illegibly and babbling nonsensically. Suddenly, a wad of paper flew out towards Baggle. He was oblivious to it, and kept writing. Junior turned around to see Marcus and Scott crumpling up pieces of paper and laughing quietly. This would be a long class, thought Junior.

Baggle eventually stopped writing, and then looked at them. "Any questions?"

No one made a sound. Charles looked like he was actually trying to make sense of what was on the board.

"Janey? Any questions?" said Baggle as he looked at Jenny.

"It's Jenny," she said with what sounded like mixed irritation and sympathy.

"Right, sorry," said Baggle. "No questions? All right then, take out your wands and we'll perform some charms."

Any lack of respect for Baggle disappeared the moment they saw Baggle casting charms. Today they were doing simple summoning charms. Baggle was physically exhausted after ten minutes or so on his feet, and apparently without thinking, he summoned a chair to himself. It flew from a corner of the room behind him, and it moved so fast that it almost looked like it apparated onto the spot. Jaws dropped, but Baggle just kept monitoring them.

***

Suddenly, Jenny successfully performed the task for the day: summoning a knut from the end of one's desk to one's wand.

"Very good Ginny!" exclaimed Baggle excitedly.

Everyone looked at a red-faced Jenny; it looked like she wanted to go hide somewhere.

***

After class, Junior and his friends quickly rose from their seats.

"Junior," said the voice of Jason behind him.

Junior turned around. "Yeah?"

"Junior, word spreads like wildfire around here. Even in this class. I just heard people whispering about you having a certain . . . ability," said Jason.

Will and Jenny gave Junior a concerned expression. Charles looked momentarily confused.

"How . . . well it's really nothing," said Junior. "It's just another language."

"I think so too," said Jason, "but not everybody else does. To a lot of people, it draws up comparisons between you and Voldemort--and Slytherin and the Dark Arts in general."

Junior sighed. "But my father changed all that . . . "

"I agree with that, too," conceded Jason, "but still . . . the fear remains."

"Point well taken, Jason," said Will respectfully.

"Yes, thanks for the warning," said Junior, and he shook hands with Jason.

"Don't want to leave class, do we?" came a familiar and amused voice.

Junior and his friends turned around to see Baggle smiling at them.

"Er, Professor Baggle," began Junior.

"Yes?" asked Baggle curiously.

Junior glanced at Jenny on his left and pointed to her. "Her name's Jenny."

"Jenny?" echoed Baggle. "Oh, I see. Jenny. Right. Sorry. I won't forget!"

Jenny mouthed thank you to Junior.

Junior smiled back.

***

Two o'clock Herbology with the Slytherins turned out to be much more tame.

Junior and his friends enjoyed the leisurely stroll on the Hogwarts grounds. They could see the glass green house from a distance and found it quite a sight. One could see long trees shoot up to the very apex of the pointed ceiling. Some plants appeared to be moving furiously. Junior saw red, blue, and even a white plant with black stripes--like a zebra.

Professor Green stood in the center of the class, and she was laughing and chatting with Junior's Mum. Professor Green wore white, while Junior's Mum wore yellow. Ms. Green was seeing a certain Neville Longbottom--another herbology expert by trade. Mr. Longbottom was performing research in Malaysia.

Junior took in the strange odors and craned his neck following the helical trunk of a tall tree.

"Hello, class," said Professor Green. "Herbology deals with magical plants. This is a lot like care of magical creatures, because it's a practical--instead of a purely intellectual--art. Now just pay attention to my instructions, heed my warnings, and try to have fun over the term."

She proceeded to show them a mandrake, and the students were assigned to transfer them from one pot to the other for the duration of class. Over time, Junior and his friends showed fewer signs of frustration and actually appeared to be enjoying themselves.

***

The students were walking back to the castle in high spirits. Junior went over the directions to the painting in his head.

"Afternoon." That was a familiar voice.

Junior turned around and heard his friends gasp.

"Pallas?" said Jenny uncertainly.

"Hello Ginny," said Pallas, though he sounded more amused than hurtful.

"So what is it?" asked Will, who sounded torn between patience and anger.

"A tune's been playing on the airwaves around here. People say that you speak Parselmouth, Junior," said Pallas.

"So?" challenged Junior.

"I was just curious. I mean, how can a bunch of scribbles look like writing to you, and only you? Can't other people learn it as well?"

"Pallas, it's magic," said Will simply. "Not everything is easily explainable--or even rational."

"Yes, well," said Pallas with disappointment. "It would just be interesting to learn from somebody, that's all."

"Yes," Charles managed quietly. "That would be interesting."

***

Junior couldn't wait to get to the painting again. He and his friends dropped their books off in their rooms, and then set out towards the transfiguration classroom.

As they passed the classroom and headed down the hall, they saw a familiar figure in the hall.

"Hello," said Professor Harry Potter. He was standing in front of the painting. His face showed curiosity and excitement.

"Hi, Dad," said Junior weakly and with disappointment.

"Your translation is perfect," said his father. "But have you noticed something else in the painting itself?"

"No . . . " said Junior slowly. He and his friends crowded around and looked.

It looked darker than Junior remembered. The weak moon tried futilely to illuminate the grassy hills. The grass was actually a bit soggy, as if it had recently rained. What was his father getting at? The hills, the shape of the landscape, didn't resemble anything. The stream, would it have a snake-like shape? No, it did not.

"I see," said Charles. "In the background, a lone tree, with a white snake curled around it."

"Yes," said Junior's father. "That struck me. It makes no sense in the context of the picture."

"Snake, Slytherin, Parselmouth," Will freely associated out loud. "Isn't that just the theme?"

"But snakes aren't so ghostly white," said Jenny. "I could swear it's eyes . . . are red slits, but we can only see its head from the side."

Junior felt a new kind of determination. He stared at the painting.

"Well, I have a class at 3, so I'd best be going," said Junior's father. "I'd appreciate it if you waited for me before doing anything rash--like solving a puzzle."

Junior nodded, and his father left. However, solving a puzzle was exactly what Junior wanted to do.

"I am the Intersection of the Lines," said Harry out loud, trying to convince himself. "My Dad's the heir of Gryffindor, and my Mum has to be the Heir of Ravenclaw. "That's the only way it makes sense. I'm supposed to solve the puzzle."

"Nothing conclusively indicates that you're Ravenclaw's heir," said Jenny reasonably. "You'd have to demonstrate an ability like 'Ravenspeak'--which doesn't exist, mind you--or be able to use some kind of 'Ravenclaw-heirs only' magical object--like your Dad did with that sword."

"And Pig flies," muttered Will. "I mean, pigs fly."

"Haha," said Junior. "You're just trying to discourage me."

"You bet I am!" exclaimed Will. "This is not your problem, and I'm saying that to you in a civil tone--and as a friend."

"My Mum was a top student," said Junior.

"But not the smartest in the school. Aunt Hermione was the smartest, and so she's actually more likely to be the Heir of Ravenclaw!"

"Still," said Junior, surprising himself with his patience, "my Mum is gifted." There was no argument from Will. "I think it's reasonable to believe that I'm the dual heir," he said with finality.

He looked at them for agreement, but their facial expressions looked torn. "Anyway," he continued, "the King I've determined is Mr. Weasley. He's the Minister of Magic, and the Ministry doesn't want the war."

"Sounds fair," said Jenny.

"And so, who's the Lord of Night and Day?" asked Junior.

"Beats me," said Will carelessly. "How about . . . Pallas Moore?"

"A cute little 11 year old kid?" scoffed Jenny.

"Maybe he'll become the next Dark Lord," snapped Will. "You see my point? I'd agree that he deserves fair treatment--and maybe even some pity--from us at this time, but he said so himself--'I want to succeed for my own benefit'. He even thinks he's above the house of Slytherin."

For some reason, Junior didn't like Jenny referring to Pallas as "cute", but it was probably just an expression often used in reference to kids. He and the others nodded. He turned his head back to the painting, and he immediately gasped.

"What is it, Junior?" asked Pallas.

The text was in the same place and still written in Parselmouth, but it had changed. Only a few words were written now, and he instinctively read them aloud:

If this King lost its Pride, then it could start a new one.

Junior's mind tried to put it together. Why would the message change into some kind of riddle? It sounded simple enough.

After a second, they all simultaneously said that they had it.

Including Junior. "A lion?" he said to the painting. He heard voices of agreement behind him.

The painting didn't react. But he was so sure. A thought entered his mind. It just may work, but he hadn't done it before. His eyes fixed themselves on the landscape of the painting, looking for just one of them. At last, he found one curled around the trunk of a small tree. He could see the side of its head, and it had a ghostly white pallor. Since when did snakes curl around trees? All right, concentrate.

He looked at the long, white snake. Suddenly, its head turned, and now he could see its eyes. Horrible, red slits stared back at him. The forked tongue darted out and quickly retracted.

Junior felt an intense coldness surround him, but he maintained his concentration. Come on, Junior, he thought to himself, do you want to be a hero or not? With the image of the snake fixed in his mind, he looked back at the text of the painting.

"A lion," he hissed in the Language of the Snakes. Immediately, the painting swung open to reveal a dark passageway. The others gasped. Without hesitation, Junior entered into the portrait hole. He soon heard the others climbing in behind him. And then the painting slammed shut, and there was darkness.

Junior took out his wand. "Lumos," he muttered. The passageway smelled of dust, and he could feel the dust cushioning his footsteps. The stone staircase on which he was standing led down farther than his wand's light could reach. He took a deep breath, and then resumed his descent.

After an eternity of walking, he saw light emanating from a room at the base of the stairs. His pace and breathing sped up, and he gasped when he finally got a glimpse of the room.

The room was circular, with gold snakes in an elaborate design around the green, covered walls. There were elaborate silk rugs on the hardwood floor. No one occupied the room, but rather the light was originating from a bright , rectangular casing in the center of the room.

"Look at that!" said Jenny in awe.

It had the dimensions of a grand mirror. The casing was silver, with little pale snakes lacing all around. On the front were two plain silver doors. A circular gold piece held the two doors together. The front of the golden piece had an imprint that looked fitted for a right hand.

The hand that had molded the imprint was that of an adult with long, tapered fingers.

Junior gulped. "Do you think I'm supposed to . . . "

They nodded gravely.

Junior placed his right hand in the groove. Immediately, a stinging pain in his right forefinger made him take his hand back in pain. The golden lock fell to the floor as if it had been held onto the casing by a magnetic force.

His fingertip was bleeding now; he wondered if it could be infected. But he had more important things to do.

He heard a simultaneous gasp from the others.

"It's . . . it's a mirror," said Will.

A glance at the newly revealed, shining mirror face revealed nothing. He wasn't discouraged. His eyes went to the inscription at the top.

ELBAKA ELP SNU EHT WOSHI

Junior knew immediately from his father's story to read the inscription backwards. "I show the unspeakable." He gulped. "The unspeakable?" he questioned out loud.

"Yes," bellowed a voice in front of him, and they all fell back in fear. The voice had come from the mirror. "You, the Intersection of the Lines, may ask to see an unspeakable act. You will witness the last hour of the victim's life--through his or her eyes. I will serve you only once."

"And why such strict conditions?" challenged Will. "Why one hour? Why an unspeakable act?"

"Because," bellowed the mirror, "that is all that is required."

Junior thought about it and sighed. A one-time use mirror? "What's the point of this?" he asked sadly of his friends. "Why would I waste the only use of this magical item when there's nothing particularly unspeakable I'd like to see?"

The others nodded at him in agreement.

"Maybe when I'm older," said Junior, whose disappointment had led him to sarcasm. "I can't even watch certain movies yet."

"Very well," bellowed the mirror. The doors closed, and the golden lock flew into place in the crack between the doors.

Junior and his friends left wordlessly.

***

Junior felt particularly irritable in the common room that night. "Some prophecy," he muttered.

"Oh lighten up," said Jenny. "You might have a use for it later."

"Right," said Will sarcastically. "You could use it to see what it looks like to fall down a cliff."

"It just seems so pointless," said Junior. "It's insane, really, to want to watch something like that. Now I feel so lucky being the dual heir."

Junior wrote a letter back to his siblings before he went to sleep.

***

A/N: Summer vacation began today. I've already written part of chapter 6. Therefore, expect less humor and more action in the immediate future!