Disclaimer: Harry Potter, sadly, belongs to JKR. The song, The Rising End (The First Prophecy), belongs to ZAO.

Author's Note: It seems like it's been FOREVER! lol. Sorry this is such a short chapter, but hopefully they'll get longer!

The Rising End (The First Prophecy)

Chapter 2

Things were going just fine for the newly awakened six (and for the other two, but the first six hadn't met them, so they didn't know that.) Then, however, the inevitable happed. Someone became suspicious.

This someone just happened to be Ron Weasley. He was getting jealous at how much time Harry and Hermione spent together, holed up in the library. They had made it quite clear he was more than welcome to join them. However, it was the library for crying out loud! Why would he want to spend time there? He wasn't at all surprised the Hermione wanted to spend time there, but Harry? His friends had been…off lately. He was finally going to do something about it. He couldn't confront Harry and Hermione, that much he knew. They would brush it off as nothing. They didn't even realize they had been acting odd. He wandered down to the kitchen for something to eat.

"What's wrong, Ron?" Molly Weasley asked, sensing something wrong with her youngest son the second he stepped into the room.

"Nothing," Ron said hurriedly. "Just came for something to eat." Mrs. Weasley bustled off, and Ron heard an amused chuckle from the corner. "Oh! Hello, sir. I didn't realize you were there."

"Quite all right, Ron," Dumbledore said from his corner. "Are Harry and Hermione still in the library?" Dumbledore knew they were, as he had used Legilimency on Ron.

"Yes, sir," Ron said.

"Why don't you join them? I'm sure they wouldn't mind," Dumbledore suggested. "In fact, can you find out what they're researching for me? Harry really should be working on Occlumency, not to mention ways to destroy Voldemort."

"I guess," Ron said, as Mrs. Weasley hurried back over with a snack. He slowly stood.

"I'll wait here," Dumbledore called as Ron left the room. Ron nodded absently, making his way to the second floor.

"Wen, I really don't think that will work," Ron heard Harry say as he neared the room.

"Sure it will," Hermione answered as Ron stepped into the room.

"What are you talking about? And who's Wen?" Ron asked, walking over to the cluster of chairs his friends were sitting in.

"We're trying to learn some new spells," Hermione said, having not looked up from the book she was reading. "And Wen is what Harry insists on calling me."

"Why Wen?" Ron asked, confused.

"It's from a muggle cartoon," Harry said quickly. There was, after all, a reason Slytherin house was known for cunning and lying. Hermione just nodded absently, not really paying attention.

"What, exactly, are you looking for?" Ron asked, none too subtly. "Spells to use against You-Know-Who?"

"Something along those lines," Hermione said vaguely.

"Can I help?" Ron asked, finishing his food. Both Harry and Hermione nodded. Ron stood. "Be right back. I've got to take my plate back to the kitchen, or Mum will throw a fit." Harry and Hermione nodded again.

Ron rushed down the stairs, eager to finally be spending time with his best friends, even if they were just looking through books.

"Did you find Harry and Hermione, dear?" Mrs. Weasley asked as he got to kitchen. Ron had the feeling he had interrupted something pretty important.

"Yeah. They're researching spells to defeat Voldemort."

"Good, good," Dumbledore said. Neither Weasley saw the smirk that crossed his face. "Be sure to remind Harry to work on Occlumency." Ron nodded, before going back up to the library. "I think I'll follow him, Molly," Dumbledore said. "I really need to talk to Harry on my own." He followed Ron out the door. Seeing this, the portrait of Mrs. Black rushed up to the library to warn them.

Having inherited 12 Grimmauld Place, the occupants had to obey Harry. However, they could twist the commands to suit their needs. The portraits had done that quite often, until one day in mid-July.

Harry, having only recently arrived at Grimmauld Place, had been in a bad mood. And, as most teenagers do when in bad moods, he was swearing. Knowing that Mrs. Weasley was somewhere in the house, but not knowing where, he was taking care to swear in Parseltongue, under the logic that, even if she had a general idea of what he was saying, she wouldn't get mad without knowing exactly what he was saying. He was pacing in his room, ignoring the portraits. The portraits, however, weren't ignoring him.

"He can speak the language of the snakes," one whispered softly, clearly impressed.

"We need to tell the most recent Mrs. Black," another whispered. Mrs. Black had the respect of all the portraits, and they were all most eager to please her.

"I will!" said the first, quite certain he wouldn't disturb the pacing of the young man in the room. He quickly vanished from the frame. Minutes later, he returned with Mrs. Black.

"Just what is it?" Mrs. Black fumed. With the curtains over her portrait always closed, she was usually sleeping. This did not, however, mean she was ever in a good mood.

"Listen to the boy," a brave portrait answered. Normally, Mrs. Black wouldn't take such disrespect. She had opened her mouth to say as much when she heard the hissing.

Long, long ago, there had been a Slytherin marry into the Black family. It hadn't been the Slytherin, the one that is widely remembered today, but his older sister, Persephone. That was actually who Mrs. Black was named after. Persephone Slytherin-Black had been a parselmouth, just like her brother. The trait had passed through the line although none were able to speak it, as that required a great amount of power. Mrs. Black was the closest to a parselmouth out of anyone in the family for centuries, and she could only understand it; her vocal cords just refused to form the sounds.

"You man, I'd wash your mouth out with soap if I could reach you," she said reprimanding, although with an underlying hint of amusement. "Who is it that's got you so upset?"

"Professor Snape," Harry said after a moment's hesitation. "The essay he assigned is nearly impossible."

"What's the topic?"

"'Discuss the Soul-Sucking Potion; who invented it, why, properties, what it does, etc.'"

"How is that a problem?"

"It isn't so much as mentioned in any of my books, information about it is banned from Hogwarts, and all the book stores I've heard of refuse to shock books about it, saying it's too dangerous. I tried looking in the library here, but the books yell, scream, or run away every time I come near."

"Yes, they've been charmed to do that to people they don't know. Let me talk to them. They'll listen to you, as the Black heir." Harry could practically hear the grimace in her voice.

"That would be great," Harry said, appearing relieved but wondering just what he was going to have to do in return.

"Actually," Mrs. Black said, more to herself than to Harry. "I can do better than that. Come with me," she said briskly. She waltzed out of the portrait, and it was all Harry could do to keep up.

"Ah! Here he is!" Mrs. Black said, coming to a stop across the hall from a portrait of a sleeping wizard. He was quite old, judging from the wrinkles and pure white hair. "Combibious? Combibious! Wake up!"

"Did you need something, 'Sephone?" the wizard asked groggily.

From there, an alliance of sorts had sprung, which was why Mrs. Black was currently walking quickly (after all, Blacks never ran or, horror upon horrors, sprinted) to get to Harry and Hermione before Ron. She had to warn them about Dumbledore. While she did trust Ron slightly more than most members of the Order of the Phoenix, she knew for a fact he hadn't seen the look on Dumbledore's face, or know that he was being followed.

"I know, but we need to find this," Harry was saying as Mrs. Black entered the library. She coughed loudly to get their attention. "Oh! I didn't notice you there!"

"Undoubtedly," Mrs. Black said, slightly amused. "After all, I just came in. I came to warn you. Dumbledore's coming up, and he's plotting something, that much is for sure. What, I can't be certain."

"So we were right," Hermione said softly, staring off into the distance. Mrs. Black's irritation at the vague remark was clearly read on her face. While she didn't hate muggle-borns, per se, she would much rather not be made to feel stupid by one.

"And just what were you right about?" she asked, somewhat shortly.

"That he's evil," Hermione answered, looking slightly out of it.

"And how did you come to that conclusion?"

"Later," Harry suddenly hissed. He seemed to be listening intently. "They're coming." Sure enough, the footsteps were now much clearer. Mrs. Black could even faintly hear Dumbledore's as he silently followed Ron, if she strained enough to hear through the portraits she had come through. She quickly disappeared, taking care not to appear in any of the portraits Ron and Dumbledore were passing.

Author's Note: How'd you like it? Tell me in a review! Thanks to all those who reviewed the last chapters!