A/N: This is the last part of photos. There are no one else's privacy that we can invade. And yes, it is left to your naughty imagination as to why those who know know. Anyway, thanks to everyone who has reviewed!

Photos Part 3

A mist hung heavy over the early pre-dawn grounds of Hogswart. It was even too bloody early for the resident squid to be awake, but it was not too early for the teachers' morning routine. Yawning and stretching and barely dressed for the day's labor, the professors shuffled their way into the teacher's lounge for the morning tea or whatever the case may be. With eyes half opened, Flitwick was the first to the ominous tea pot. He poured himself a cupful of the murky black brewed substance, that Argus Filch so gleefully made. (It was too early in the morning even for the house elves to be up and about, and Filch was more than happy to comply on this occasion. Oh well, it might be better than Hagrid's tea). The little gnomelike head of Ravenclaw took a hearty swig without doing a thorough examination or thinking. The results were that he immediately and unceremoniously spew the offending liquid over the coffee table. Dumbledore casually walked by his fellow professor and looked down through his sparkling half moon glasses.

"You know better, my dear Flitwick," he stated calmly.

Snape swirled around the contents of his cup, and he could have sworn that something winked at him. There were safer things to drink in the cupboard of his dungeon classroom, and many of those things were submitted by Crabbe and Goyle. "Filch," he growled, but his face remained its same dead pan self, "What did you put in the tea this morning. Maybe a little hemlock?"

Flitwick turned pale, as the castle caretaker only smiled. Mrs. Norris purred in an unusual happiness as she rubbed herself about her owner's legs. "Ah, professor, I would never do anything like that," he replied. Then he added in an under his breath, "Arsenic is much more fun." Mrs. Norris sat herself down and did some well earned (and needed) grooming in the most complete sense of the word.

Professor Sprout downed her tea without a thought and a contented smile crossed her lips. Professor Grubbly-Plank just poured herself a cup of coffee. She had never quite taken to tea. Trelawny just poured her own home brewed tea (that smelled remarkably like cooking sherry) from a muggle device called a thermos.

Dumbledore snapped his fingers and a cup of steaming hot chocolate appeared before him, and a bag of mini marshmallows appeared at his elbow. The cocoa smelled strongly of brandy, but like Trelawny's tea, no one seemed to notice or say anything about it.

Hagrid lumbered his way into the room. Whereas everyone else took up a tea cup to pour their tea into, the gameskeeper just took up the teapot, took off the lid, and poured the contents into his gullet. This caused him to cough as the ticklish furlike something swirled about in his mouth and soon slid down his throat. He beat his chest to move the lump along. He'd swallowed worse while living with his menagerie of magically inclined beasts.

"That was some mighty good stuff there, Argus old fellow! You'll need to brew up some more sometime soon again," he boomed heartily.

Argus' eyes grew wide in disbelief and grumbling some not so nice comments, he snatched the pot away from the clueless half giant and marched out. Mrs. Norris meowed some unladylike things, and if the professor of Care for Magical Creatures knew as much animal talk as he should, he would have turned an entertaining shade of red at her suggestion.

Professor McGonagall marched into the room, and the door slammed behind her like a prison door. Steam would have rolled thicker out of her ears than the fog on the grounds, but ti was presently in it metaphorical stage, and it didn't feel like evolving into its reality form. Her strict drawn face was constricted into livid anger. Even the dimmest of those present cringed. Dumbledore happily plopped a couple of lemon drops into his drink, and he was content to down the drink calmly as the blazing glare attempted to burn a hole through his favorite robe. He'd seen McGonagall in a worse state. The animage slammed down a very incriminating photo in front of the headmaster. At first, the professor turned some amazing shades of a whiter shade of pale. He calmed as he realized that the picture was not from his private collection (But he wouldn't mind adding it to it).

"I found THIS in the hallways on the way here! Someone has been doing the lowest of lows and despicable things right under our noses!" she stated severely.

"I say they have!" chirped the charms professor as he looked over the photo with a scrutinizing eye. The picture was of one of the girls in the shower, but her hair must have been held up in a shower cap, and the shot was only from the back to the thighs without any sign of her hair, that would have aided in her idenity. "They could have taken the shot from her front side . . . "

Professor Sprout casually slapped him in the back of the head and sent him sprawling into Never Neverland at Dumbledore's feet.

"This is horrible! Who would invade a girl's privacy in such a blatant vulgar way!" the head of Hufflepuff complained.

Professor Grubbly-Plank only shook her head sadly. "The young men of this generation are just plain animals!"

"I foresee a modeling career for this young lady," stated Trelawny as she swirled around the remaining contents of her glass. "It's right here in the tea leaves."

Snape narrowed his dark eyes at her. "Sherry does not have tea leaves to read."

"If we just knew who this poor young lady is," stated McGonagall, ignoring her cohorts, "then maybe we would have a clue as to who has been doing these terrible things."

Dumbledore glanced down through his spectacles and nodded. "The mystery is solved, my dear Minerva. This is Miss Granger."

Snape looked over his shoulder and nodded in agreement. "I concur. That is most defiantly Miss Granger."

"Can't be!" argued Hagrid loudly and defensively. "She doesn't have a mole on her left butt cheek like that."

Dumbledore's brow furrowed and he brushed a speck of dirt that had fallen on the picture away. Frowning, the giant groundskeeper nodded. "Yeah, that's Hermione alright."