Chapter Eight

The Painting in the Trophy Room

Halloween was upon them again, and with it the approach of the Gryffindor-Slytherin match. Corey and Doug, who were having a smashing year as Beaters, were proving to be a perilous duo on the Quidditch Pitch, contributing in a 180-20 loss for Ravenclaw. They were the first to receive the copies of the Veritable Wizard on the game, thanks to the sports writer, who just happened to be Taylor Brittle.

"Smashing article, Taylor! If this doesn't convince Gail Sisna to go to the spring dance with me, I don't know what will," Doug said.

"You're already making plans for the dance?" Corey said, rolling his eyes. "They just started talking about it two days ago, and it's not until early March. I don't know, but I think we've got better things to do than fawn over girls for half a year, not that there's any worth going with."

"Really, Corey?" Taylor asked cautiously. "I mean, I'd have thought you'd be going with Danny for sure."

"Danny? Oh, go on, Taylor, we're just friends. It's not like she's the dating type. And she's a Slytherin. I mean, I agree she's nice and all that, but date a Slytherin? Let's not get carried away," Corey snorted. "What I meant was, we need to think about that Slytherin game. We have to beat them. If we don't, they might take the cup again."

"Think about it all you like, Willowby," a voice called out behind him. Corey and the other two turned around to see Amadeus Longbottom standing beside Casper Wyatt and Roger Baylor. "The chance of either of you coming out of that game still standing, let alone winning the game, is next to none," Amadeus said.

"I always knew you were a loon, Longbottom, but you must be denser than I thought, threatening Snape's son," Doug said.

"Adopted son," Amadeus retorted, stepping up to Corey. "If you think that makes you any less of a mudblood, you'd better think again. You're still just a poor Muggle sheepherder who just got lucky because that mudlover Craw took pity on you. To think, if it hadn't been for her, you'd probably still be cleaning barns somewhere, or perhaps share the same fate as your family. Pathetic how easily they all fall when exposed to real magic."

Taylor and Doug grabbed a hold of Corey just as he stretched out his hand, yelling out his name and trying to force them back down.

"Don't do it, Corey, he's trying to get you riled on purpose!" Taylor hissed at him, "you're going to get in trouble."

"What's the matter, Willowby? Did I offend your Muggleborn sensibilities? If you can't take a Bludger now and then, get off the pitch," Amadeus grinned as the other two snickered at him.

"I'll show you offensive," Corey said, wrenching his hand away from Doug and pointing. "Acridios aromus!"

A thick green cloud appeared around Amadeus smelling like a hundred skunks, his face looking ill as he held his nose and tried feebly to get at his wand. Everyone else, including his two companions, backed far away from him as Amadeus crawled out of the cloud, the stench following him.

"Mr. Willowby!" A voice yelled from behind him. The three boys turned and cringed as they saw McGonagall rushing down the hall. "What on Earth…." her words were cut short when she got too close to Amadeus and had to step back. "You… house lavatories… bath… now!" she coughed out before grabbing a hold of Corey's arm. "You… office. And you two as well," she said, nodding to Doug and Taylor. "Baylor, Wyatt, go to Professor Craw and ask her for a bottle of Air De-pungent. This corridor smells like a field after a dragon convention!"

McGonagall was in no mood to hear excuses, for no matter who had instigated it, the fact was Corey was still casting spells in the hall. Taylor and Doug, at least, got off for being at the wrong place at the wrong time, (although she did tell them that she planned to keep an eye on them) but Corey was to sit detention with Filch before the Halloween Feast.

He had been afraid that he was going to get bathroom duty, but as it turned out, that was the day to clean the second floor, so the caretaker set him up in the Trophy Room with tiny brushes and other manual equipment, squinting at him threateningly to make sure he was doing it right before he and his cat left the room. Corey hadn't even gotten through the first case before he heard laughter at the door and looked up to see Amadeus standing there.

"Serves you right for cursing me, Willowby! Oh, and I'm writing up a bill for my robes, since you completely ruined them."

"I'll show you what you can do with that bill, you purist pig!" Corey said, getting up.

"Temper, temper! I don't think it'd be good for you to get in trouble again already, do you? You might get suspended from the Quidditch team, and I was looking forward to our match. After all, anything can happen in the Pitch, you know," he said, smiling threateningly. "Anything."

"If you're trying to scare me into not playing, it's not going to work, Longbottom," Corey said. "I have every intention of going in there and helping Gryffindor gain a victory, and there's nothing you can do to prevent it."

"I don't have to do anything," Amadeus said. "You seem to be doing well enough getting into trouble on your own."

Without another word, he turned and continued down the corridor as Corey slumped back to his knees. There was no way he was going to miss that game, despite anything Amadeus had in mind. A few minutes later, Filch peered in to check on him.

"What are you doin' Willowby?" Filch asked, squinting at where he sat in front of the first case. "This isn't tea time, keep cleanin'. I'm not lettin' ya go tonight 'til yer done with the whole room, so if ya want to go ta the feast, ya best keep werkin'. Missed a spot," he added, pointing at a smudge on the trophies accusingly. Reluctantly, Corey went back to work, gloomy as he finished the first case and started on some of the plaques. "That's better. Don't dust the paintin's tho, just the plaques. I'll do those myself if ya don't mind," he said, looking at him as if he didn't trust him with the task. "I'll be down the hall doin' the gym floors if ya need me," he said, walking back out.

"I didn't want to dust no bleedin' paintings anyhow," Corey muttered, glancing up at the portraits above the door. Most of them were Quidditch players, standing beside broomsticks or riding them, and quite a few of them were giggling and pointing at where he glowered. "Oh, right, and tell me you all didn't ever get into trouble!" he dared the paintings, sticking his tongue out at them as he reached for another plaque to polish.

As he did so, he gazed thoughtfully at the middle portrait over the door. It was of an elderly, rather plump blonde woman in gorgeous gold robes with green trim, and she was sleeping in an ornate chair. He recognized that chair from somewhere; and after a moment he realized it was the same chair that Dumbledore sat at in the Great Hall, and Corey couldn't help but wonder if she wasn't once a Headmaster herself. Perhaps she was… and just like all of the portraits that he had seen in Dumbledore's office of Headmaster's, this one too was sleeping. But why was she in here instead of with the rest? Corey shrugged to himself, placing the plaque back up on the wall. If only he could ask her.

He went over to start on the large wall case, turning the handle. It was locked still; apparently, Filch had missed that one when he unlocked all the cases to be cleaned. Rather than having to deal with Filch again, Corey pointed at the door, intoning alohamora at the case, expecting it to give. When it didn't, Corey sighed. It would make sense that such a thing would be protected from basic student spells. It was just then that he remembered a spell they had just began studying in Transfiguration class that changed any liquid into another liquid. Well, technically, glass was a liquid, Corey mused as he thought of the book he read over the summer. So, all he had to do was change it to something else. Raising his hands, he concentrated on the glass. "Transforme eu liquidius!"

The glass began to ripple as it attempted to change to its new form, bubbling like a cauldron. But just before it completed and turned to water, the glass began to solidify as if it were fighting back, and in the tug of war the glass shattered loudly, echoing down the hall. Corey winced as if in pain, waiting for Filch to come in yelling, and slowly he turned around, expecting the worst. He stood there listening, but oddly enough, he didn't hear anyone coming. Relaxing slightly, Corey sighed and turned to try and figure out how to clean up the mess.

"I say, can't you be just a wee bit quieter while making your mischief, young man? You woke me up," he heard a woman's voice say. Corey swiftly turned back around, not seeing anyone, then slowly veered his eyes upward to see that the woman in the chair was gazing straight at him with such a searching gaze and amused smile that he knew without a doubt that she was the one who spoke.

"I… sorry. I couldn't get the case open," he stammered, wondering how much trouble he was in for disturbing a sleeping painting.

"What is your name, young Gryffindor?" she asked kindly.

"Corey, Ma'am. Corey Willowby," he answered.

"And the current Headmaster's name?" Corey was slightly surprised by that.

"Professor Albus Dumbledore, of course," he said. "Who are you?"

"Well, I suppose I'm nobody anymore. After all, I'm only a painting," the woman said slyly. "But if you're asking who I'm a painting of, I am the painting of Professor Caprica Dusthorn, first appointed Headmaster, and it is very good to meet you. So tell me, why are you trying to get into the case in any case?" she asked, and then began to giggle at her own wording.

"I got in trouble for casting a spell in the halls," Corey said, hearing her tsk. "Well, it wasn't like that! Amadeus Longbottom insulted my family and my adopted mother. I wasn't just going to stand there and take it," Corey said, clenching his fists.

"Calm down, it's all right. I was only asking," Dusthorn said. "I'm afraid I don't know much of what's going on these days. Perhaps you can tell me? I admit I'm quite curious, and I'd like to hear more about you and your family. And this Longbottom fellow, he's another student, yes?"

"Willowby!" A voice barked from outside. Dusthorn winked and put a finger to her lips, closing her eyes as Mr. Filch appeared in the doorway. "Who are you talkin' ta? An' what happened to th' case?"

"No one, and it broke when I tried to open it," Corey said, moving out of the way as the caretaker came over to the case.

"Ya barmy, it was locked, no wonder you couldn't get it open," he said, rolling his eyes. "Clean it up then, and hurry up about it. Yer going to miss dinner for sure now," he added, sneering slightly. "I'll tell yer classmates not to wait up," he added as he left. Corey sighed and beginning picking up the glass, as one of Dusthorn's blue eyes flickered open.

"Nice friendly chap he is, isn't he?" she said in a low voice with a mischievous twinkle in her eye. Corey grinned at her. "I knew a professor a lot like him once, only a lot more sour. Ruddy way to live if you ask me."

"If you keep talking, you're going to get me in trouble again," Corey said, grinning in spite of himself. He was beginning to wish he would have known the real Dusthorn…they probably would have gotten along together very well.

"I don't want you to get into trouble because of me, since you seem to have enough trouble all of your own," Dusthorn agreed. "Let's keep your waking me up our little secret for now, hm? No need for us to go worrying professors about it just yet," Dusthorn decided. Corey wasn't exactly sure why the professors would be worried about it, but there was definitely something irresistible about an ex-headmaster that didn't want anyone to know she was awake.

"It's all right with me," Corey agreed.

Delighted that he agreed and very eager to find out what had been happening at Hogwarts since she had been asleep, Caprica kept Corey company as he cleaned the rest of the evening, listening to stories of his friends and how he came to Hogwarts. She was most especially interested in hearing about what he knew about Voldemort, Harry Potter, Dumbledore, and Jennifer Craw, although Corey knew more about his mother than the rest. He even found himself talking about his real parents, for her soothing voice, patient ears and kind words making her so easy to speak to.

It was Filch who came to find him again after the feast, carrying a pane of carefully cut glass wrapped in paper in his hands. He gave the boy an odd look when he saw him sitting in the spotless room as if he had little desire to leave it. Filch shooed Corey off to bed, shaking his head. Then he took a moment to put the new glass into the case, none the wiser for the pair of eyes that kept peeking open to watch him.

Jennifer was always nervous of Halloween, but she was much too preoccupied to think about that now. Minerva hadn't told her the details of what happened, but Jennifer was easily able to glean it from Doug's face at dinner. Drumming her fingers on the table and quickly replying to Severus' questioning comment, Jennifer couldn't get out of dinner fast enough, joining Hermione on patrol to make sure everyone got back to their rooms. It wasn't until the fourth pass by the Fat Lady that Jennifer spied Corey coming down the hall, his eyes widening when he saw her. He sped up, greeting her quickly as he passed her, tucking his chin in vain attempt of hiding his face.

"Don't you expect to get past me that easily, Corey. I want to know what really happened down there today," Jennifer said, folding her arms.

"I just lost my temper, that's all. Sorry, it won't happen again," Corey muttered, turning towards the painting.

"Corey," Jennifer sighed putting a hand on his shoulder. "Look, I know you wouldn't do something like that unless you were provoked. Not that that makes it right," she added quickly. "But is there anything you want to tell me?"

"Can I still go to Hogsmeade?" he asked, turning back around.

"I don't know, Corey, you know we said no detentions," Jennifer said, watching the pleading look grow in his eyes. She sighed. "I'll talk to your Dad about it."

"Thanks Mom… Professor Craw, I mean. If anyone can change his mind for him, you can," he added, saying the password and hurrying in the door. Jennifer shook her head as the door shut again then went back down the stairs. It wasn't long before she arrived in the Defense office. Severus glanced up from his desk, unsurprised to see her.

"Do you believe how quiet it is? Not one problem, not one surprise and it's nearly midnight, you'd almost think it wasn't Halloween at all," Jennifer said casually.

"So? What did you find out?" Severus inquired.

"Is it that obvious?" Jennifer said sheepishly, walking over to the desk.

"Do you mean is it obvious you can't help but sticking your nose into things? Of course, I've known that since we've met," Severus said evenly.

"Yes, almost as obvious as how much you like to taunt me," Jennifer challenged, and was rewarded with a roguish smile. "I didn't get much, he was trying to avoid my gaze," she admitted with irritation. "Nobody ever wants to look me in the eye anymore! But he seems to think Amadeus is baiting him to keep him from playing the next Quidditch game." Severus looked up at that.

"Really? Interesting choice in strategy," Severus mused.

"Is that all you have to say?" Jennifer said, slightly annoyed by his calm reaction. Severus sighed and put down his pen.

"I probably would have done something similar in the same position. Consider, everyone knows how much trouble Corey gets into, and everyone knows how eager he is to push his luck. I've always said that boy's lack of control over his emotions would get him into trouble if he wasn't careful. If he allows them to push him over the edge, it is his own doing," Severus said.

"So you're saying we should let them keep doing it," Jennifer surmised with a frown.

"Us interfering would cause Corey more harm than help," Severus said bluntly. "Ever since we adopted him, all of Slytherin have been on pins and needles. They do not come to me as often as they used to," he admitted, folding his hands together. "I have no intention of straining the situation any more than it already is, and if you were wise, you would be worried about the same, considering how many students believe you play favorites."

"I do not play favorites. I will admit that I speak to certain students outside of class, but inside class, I've always treated them alike," Jennifer said, feeling her temperature rising.

"Jennifer, I know that and the school knows that. But whether you like it or not, appearances do mean something. I don't have to remind you that's why you nearly got sacked," he pointed out. Jennifer forgot what she was going to say, falling into silence. "Like it or not, you are constantly in the spotlight. Perhaps it is time you should think about how you want everyone else to see you, and discipline yourself to let them only see what you want them to see."

"I can't do that, Severus! Hide who I am? Under a mask? Like you do?" Jennifer stood up and walked around her chair in pure disbelief. "How can I do that and not betray who I am? I've never needed a mask before…"

"Only because your friends have always supplied the mask for you," Severus said calmly. "But you're no longer the young, naive teacher that first entered this school, and it's high time you thought about it."

"I've never really wanted anyone to see me but for who I really am," Jennifer said defensively.

"What about your first year here when you tried to play Lucius Malfoy with an act and I had to come bail you out?" Severus said.

"That was different," Jennifer said uncomfortably. "I wasn't doing it to protect how I was being seen." Severus gazed starkly at her, drumming her fingers as he impatiently waited for her to realize she was wrong. "Besides, I'm a Truth Seeker, remember? Honesty first, and all that. What sort of Truth Seeker goes around wearing a mask to who they really are?"

"Dumbledore does," Severus said simply, ending the conversation.