A/N: Wow, a speedy update! What is this? What has happened to me? But in spite of the speedy update, there will be still more awkward moments for our heroine. Be a sadist, enjoy!
Thank you everybody for your reviews and special thanks to B.I.W, who caught an embarrassing mistake I had made….
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Conspirators Extraordinare
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When she finished, out of breath and flushed, he didn't say anything for a while. He sipped his port, and when he, anew, offered her a glass, she accepted and let the sweet drink slowly spread on her palate. The way he twirled the small glass in his large hand, looking at the swirling liquid, somehow calmed her. Maybe he could help her. Maybe he really could. And then she could be just a normal girl for change, just a normal girl with a normal life and normal problems.
"Ingenious, really," Derek said slowly, deep in thought, "to paint me in front of the tavern. The port never ends and I can order nearly anything whenever I take fancy." Hermione started and looked at him, offended and angry. Was that all he had to say? She had poured her heart out to him and that was all he had to say?
"If that's all you have to say, I really -" She didn't get further in her rant, when he interrupted.
"I believe I can help you, little lady. I believe I can."
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She leaned nearer the portrait almost spilling her port in her enthusiasm. He leaned forward, too, with a very secretive expression, and was just about to open his mouth, when a wheezing voice startled them both and Hermione did spill her drink.
"Derek! Wait for me! I know it all first hand, darling!"
Hermione could hardly believe her eyes. There, in the landscape painting next to her, was the Fat Lady, wading trough the salt water, her curls floating freely in the wind, the bow hanging loose on the side of her head. Her cheeks were flushed, her face wet from perspiration, and she was puffing heavily. She somehow hopped from the landscape into the portrait with Derek, and immediately adjusted herself with the scale of the painting, shrinking at sight. Hermione couldn't understand how she managed to do it, as her own, original portrait was at least three times the size of Derek's and the marital landscape was about the same size with hers. Suddenly, she realized she hadn't even noticed the equal shift in measure when accepting the offered glass of port from the man. Hers was of a normal size, as his would have been like a doll's dish for her.
In any normal circumstances, Hermione would have been extremely upset for not noticing such an important aspect of the Hogwart's portraits before, as well as extremely interested in finding out how exactly it all worked, but at the very moment, she had more important issues to consider.
"The Gryffindor Tower?! You can't just leave it unguarded! What about Harry!?" Hermione was about to bolt and run to the Tower herself, but the Fat Lady panted:
"Noting to worry about, my dear, nothing at all! Violet is taking my place. By Merlin, she even managed to look a bit like me, when she changed into that lovely pink dress and we did some work with that hair of hers. No-one will notice, my dear. I simply had to come, you understand. It has been ages since the last time, and I simply couldn't let Derek-darling here have all the fun!"
"Primrose, Primrose," Derek placed his hands on her shoulders and gave her a thorough once-over, smiling widely, "you are as pretty as you've always been. If I'd just known that all it took to make you visit was some sweet little lady with troubles with love, I'd seen to it much earlier."
"You silly boy, you cannot leave your portrait! How many sweet little ladies have you seen in this corridor?" She was giggling and blushing and somehow, inexplicably, Hermione felt a little sting of jealousy. Just a moment ago this exciting, handsome man had been totally focused on her, and now she was forgotten for some giggling idiot. Deja-vu, she thought to herself bitterly.
"Wouldn't you like to know that, my prim little Rosie," Derek drawled grinning wolfishly, and the Fat Lady answered accordingly, swatting the man playfully on the arm, blushing and giggling still more. Were there some rules for this kind of behaviour? Hermione found herself wondering bitterly. The Fat Lady and the Hufflepuffs clinging to Ron were using exactly the same tactics: swat, giggle, blush, look down, cling, swat, giggle, blush, touch his hand, swing your hair, giggle, swat, blush. At least the knowledge for the ridiculous conduct couldn't be found in any book, as most of those using it weren't capable of reading anything in the measure of adapting the written information to practice. That thought should have given her some satisfaction. It didn't.
Hermione felt stupid standing there, listening to the two portraits – or could they be called portraits when at least one of them could leave their frames and backgrounds? Perhaps they should be called something like painted persons? – wildly flirting with each other. She thought of leaving them at it, or then politely coughing to attract their attention, but she didn't do either. She just stood there, feeling stupid.
And if there was something Hermione Granger, know-it-all extraordinare, didn't care to feel like, that was stupid. Therefore, in addition to intellectually challanged, she was beginning to feel angry as well. The Gryffindors and several members of the other Houses had way back learnt that an upset or worse still, angry, Hermione Granger wasn't something to a) approach, b) irritate further or c) ignore. The painted persons, now ordering more port and some cheese to go with it, weren't maybe guilty of the first crime, but were definitely conducting in a way that easily fulfilled the clauses b and c. And the bushy-haired young woman was absolutely seething.
"Excuse me," she finally snapped, distracting the two culinarists, "for disturbing, but if my presence has now fulfilled its purpose as you are reunited, I can maybe return to my quarters-" she didn't get any further, as the Fat Lady's denying shrieks and Derek's booming laughter interrupted her.
"Little lady, little lady, don't you dare to desert us now! We weren't ignoring you," he continued, shaking Hermione a bit with his ability to immediately pinpoint the main reason for her irritation, "we just haven't had a chance to see each other for a long, long time. You see, Rosie here and I, we were the greatest pair of conspirators this school has ever seen-"
"Including the Weasley twins and Albus Dumbledore at the peak of his youth!" the Fat Lady announced, and Derek continued as if he hadn't been interrupted at all:
" – and now we are exclusively at your service! Please, take a seat!" He easily lifted one of the heavy, carved wooden chairs next to him and leaned forward to push it out of the painting and towards Hermione. The minute the piece of furniture emerged from the frames, it popped into its new size, perfectly proportioned for her. It was a disturbing sight, even for a witch, and Hermione felt her anger evaporating from the way of bafflement, as she, gingerly, took the offered seat, crossed her ankles, folded her hands neatly in her lap, and waited for what was to come.
At first, there was nothing to come, or so it seemed. The two painted persons just stared at her, scrutinizing her shrewdly. Every once in a while, one of them would glance at the other, who would nod or shake their head or roll their eyes and then they would both return to stare at her. After five or six minutes, Hermione couldn't remember what had been or was so horrible about being ignored.
Finally, the staring finished and Derek clapped his hands together in an enthusiastic manner, startling Hermione. "Well, well, well, let's get to it, then! What do you think, Rosie, would the Commodum Aspectus be appropriate for the little lady?"
"Oh, Derek darling, that's just wonderful! And then a Commodum Veritas or maybe a Commodum Veritas Maximum, depending on the situation."
"Too much is never too bad with the matters of heart, is it now, Rosie dear?"
The Fat Lady giggled fervently and shook her head, pouring more port for both of them. Somehow, Hermione started to feel a tiniest bit uncomfortable. For the first time, she got to wonder why exactly had the Headmaster prohibited the Fat Lady from giving amorous adviceto the students. The enthusiasm of the two painted persons was almost disturbing and she wasn't certain if she was so keen to let a couple of more than tipsy, fanatical wanna-be-Cupids meddle with her life. Especially as she was certain she had never heard of the spells they were discussing. Commodum could probably be translated as adaptation or adaptive or adjusting and Aspectus would refer to appearances or views, and Veritas naturally meant truth and...all in all, she really didn't like how it sounded.
"Excuse me," Hermione asked politely, "could you perhaps explain to me how those aforementioned spells would work?"
Derek O'Samuelson grinned wickedly. "Well, little lady, these spells are really quite ingenious, even if I say so myself-"
"Derek-darling! Don't forget I did the actual transfiguration!" Again, he didn't let the Fat Lady's interruption cut his speech, but only flashed her a smile that silenced her quickly. Or silenced all but her giggles.
"- as they actually combine all the best elements of glamour-spells, Imperio, love-potions and Veritaserum, without being illegal, as most of those."
"What!?" Hermione couldn't believe her ears. She had expected some advice, maybe even some small spell (deep in her mind she had maybe hoped for something...romantic which would have made Ron realize his true feelings for her and express them like a Gryffindor) but definitely nothing illegal or amoral!
Apparently Derek misunderstood her shriek of indignation as one of exuberance, as he carried on with a self-satisfied explanation: "Yes, yes, little lady, it is actually possible. The first spell will adjust the way your young man sees you. It won't actually change your appearance, only his view of it. In his eyes, you'll be the most desirable little lady on the earth. It really works pretty much like true love."
"And as most men love with their eyes, that will probably solve the problem already, my dear. Very much like true love. No-one has never noticed any difference," the Fat Lady was fast to add.
Like true love? And now Hermione's mind registered also the Fat Lady's earlier mention of transfiguration. What on earth was supposed to get transfigured? Hermione thanked all the deities above and anywhere – if any existed, mind you – for the fact that the portraits if Hogwarts wouldn't be capable of actually performing spellsat students. Actually, according to Hogwart,a History, they shouldn't even have wands. Her relieved sigh got interrupted, though, when Derek drew out something he shouldn't even have had in his possession: a wand. Hermione was starting to feel faint and somehow a voice disturbingly like Ollivander's echoed in her head: Twelve and half inches, ebony with a hair of Veela, excellent for manipulation and trickery. The dark piece of wood in the painted person's hand gathered all ofHermione's focus andshe found it hard to breath at all.
"Yes, yes. But as my little Rosie suggested, we should also use Commondum Veritas, and thus adjust his view of the truth, as well," twirling his wand in his hand, Derek continued as if discussing a purely theoretical question, "which, in this case, is his view of the way he feels. You can pretty much decide how it changes, little lady, and again, his conduct, or yours, doesn'talter in any other aspect. Really ingenious, don't you think? His feelings and your appearance will be exactly the same as always, only his view of them changes. He will simply see things in a different light. No-one can guess, unlike when the Imperius is used."
"Oh, but the Unforgivables are all so common and unrefined," the Fat Lady sighed.
Hermione had just listened to all of it, her mouth slightly open, her heart pounding in her chest, but now she, finally, found her voice again: " My..my...you can't...I can't...that's horrible! Simply outrageous! I don't want to force him to love me or trick him to think I'm beautiful! Have you no idea how immoral and atrocious that is!"
The Fat Lady and her companion only chuckled lightly. Derek answered Hermione with a perfectly calm voice: "My little lady, how does it really differ from a normal glamour? Expect that it actually works and you wont embarrass yourself with changing your looks in a way that everybody would notice?"
"Exactly, dear," the Fat Lady added soothingly, " and the spells will hardly make any difference, as your young man obviously already finds you attractive."
"But what if he doesn't?" Hermione shrieked. "And what about the other spell? The one that would make him believe he loves me even if he doesn't!?"
"Simply a change of perspective, little lady," Derek offered mildly. "You asked for it yourself. You told he just didn't see you as datable, didn't you? Well, now he will. His erroneous thoughts of his feelings merely won't come in the way."
"His feelings won't come in the way, you mean?" Hermione tried to sound sarcastic, but hearing her own voice she realized it sounded more drastic than sarcastic, and drastic in a fearful way, if that was even possible.
"Most probably the paradigm sift will only make him realize his true feelings for you, dear," the Fat Lady was still using her soothing voice, as if Hermione was a scared animal or a small child, "and if that isn't the case...well, as I said, no-one will be able to tell the difference."
"So, little lady, shall we?" Derek asked brusquely, flourishing his wand as if warming it up for the upcoming trial. "This is the absolutely risk-free way to love: no fear of rejection, no possibility of embarrassing yourself...just you stand still, little lady, and I'll do it all for you." He was smiling his charming smile, but suddenly, wolfish didn't mean fascinatingly wicked anymore. Instead, Hermione could really guess how the Little Red Riding Hood must have felt, when the foolish girl had finally realized why a wolf wasn't such a nice play-mate.
Both of the painted persons really seemed quite insane at the moment. The dim light in the corridor didn't help any, laying sinister shadows on their artificial faces. Hermione couldn't ever have believed she would fear a painting, or the Fat Lady, for Heaven's sake, but at the moment, the threat those two presented seemed very real, indeed. That glint in their eyes, the way their lips twisted into weird smiles...she had always thought the portraits were hanging on the castle's walls for the same reasons they did in the Muggle world: to present respect for the people they represented. Now she was beginning to wonder whether they were placed in the view to keep them in sight and in check. And those two certainly weren't in check, at the moment. Neither were they, or her, in sight of anyone.
Hermione watched Derek's wand as he raised it and prepared to cast the spell. As he opened his mouth, she threw herself to the floor, struggled with the invisibly cloak, managed to pull it on and started to crawl away as rapidly as possible. When she heard Derek's voice ask: "Where did she vanish?" she felt extremely grateful that at least that tidbit of information in the Hogwarts,a History applied also to Captain O'Samuelson. Portraits really did have some difficulties in adjusting their sight when something suddenly moved below the line of vision their frames enclosed.
When she got to the end of the corridor, she started to run as if she was possessed, trying to beat the Fat Lady. She didn't even look at the Marauder's Map, but ran and ran, her invisible, hurried footsteps echoing in the hallways. Dear God, she almost hoped she would encounter Snape or Filch!
She didn't, though, and arriving at the Gryffindor Tower, she was almost sick from relief as she saw Violet snoozing in the Fat Lady's portrait. "Determination!" she hissed with force, and slipped inside as soon as the sleepy woman got the entrance open. She was shaken, she was overwhelmingly tired, she was shivering, she was near tears, and there was something she had to do.
Determinedly, Hermione Granger climbed to her Head Girl room, took out Hogwarts, a History, and started to search for information she should have looked up before she had said one word to either the Fat Lady or Captain Derek O'Samuelson. Fervently, she flipped through the familiar pages. Portraits....guardians of the Houses...prohibitions on the portraits and the statues...love spells....there!
For nearly two hundred years, from the year 1769 AD, when a portrait of one Captain Derek Beowulf Samuelson was, unadvisedly, placed next to the entrance for the Gryffindor House quarters, and hence also the portrait of the entrance's guardian Primrose Alexandra Whittlerback, better known as the Fat Lady, the two aforementioned characters were known to offer "advice in the matters of heart" for unsuspecting students.
Through years, the characters in the portraits became more daring and bold in their conduct, the unsupervised situation finally resulting in a substantial rampage among educatees. The Fat Lady and her conspirator had, according to several witnesses, gained a way to cast actual spellsat students, and, hence, caused various unpleasant situations, especially as the aforementioned enchantments were bordering illegality and more often than not cast without the consent of the student or students in question.
After the state of affairs culminated in various ill-advised and objectionable bondings between underage educatees, the Headmaster Dippet and the then Deputy Headmaster Albus Dumbledore finally succeededat separating the portraits from each other, bounding the Fat Lady in a way she is forever unable to cast spells at the students, and confining the more dangerous of the two, Captain O'Samuelson, in his original portrait in the far away corner of the castle.
As O'Samuelson is rumoured to have preserved his magical capabilities and the possession of his wand, his whereabouts are concealed from the student body in a way that only with a written invitation offered after a specific plea it is even possible to actually seehis potrait.
Melausina Charmeuse, the witch responsible for this whole awful mess, smiled maliciously at Hermione from the corner of the page and winked smugly as she slammed the book shut. For once, knowledge didn't render the situation any more manageable. Hermione felt tears raising in her eyes. How had she been so stupid? Without consent...what if they started to harass her now? Or Ron? What would they do? Had she maybe broken the confinements placed by the Headmasters? What if the portraits were now free to do what ever they wanted to? And it was all her fault!
Why did other people manage to act all foolish and girly, but when she tried to do even something really small and innocent, it all blew up on her face? Was foolishness really forbidden for one Hermione Granger? Was she really condemned to act practical forever and for everyone else, too? Was it fair at all, what?!
The dawn saw one Hermione Granger, the one and only wholly sensible teenaged witch in the Hogwart's School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, silently crying her eyes out in her Head Girl Room.
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A/N: It seems I'm not a nice, fluffy person. Oops. Do give me what I have coming – review! I will finish this even without reviews, but plenty of them may speed me…maybe. In the next chapter we'll meet Ron and Harry and see Hermione avoiding the Fat Lady. As well as she can. The Latin in this chapter was probably anything but grammatically correct. Sorry.