A/N: Happy Sunday! This chapter began as something very different, but I'm glad to find that it fits nicely in between two angst filled chapters. (That's right there's angst in the future forecast). But for today, my inner fangirl needed to see this interaction.
Mini Pony Lover prompted this over on Fanfiction and I couldn't possibly refuse such a beautiful idea. So thank you for the prompt and I hope you enjoy!
"You're really making a habit of ending up in here," a snide voice commented from somewhere behind him.
Startled Rumpelstiltskin turned in his seat trying to find the voice's owner. Seeing no one but the usual portraits of Headmasters he shrugged to himself.
"I mean really, it's a bit ridiculous. This is the third time this month," the voice came again.
This time he was certain that it was speaking to him.
"Oh, like you didn't spend a fair amount of time in here as a boy," an older wizened voice pointed out.
"Even I didn't manage it this often," the first voice returned.
"He's misguided that's all," the second assured.
"That's a strange way to say miscreant."
Unable to take the back and forth any longer, Rumpelstiltskin interjected. "You know I'm right here," he called out as he looked at each of the portraits in turn. "I can literally hear everything you're saying."
"Snappish as well," the first voice called once more, this time from directly behind Rumple. "I told you he was a miscreant."
Finally, Rumpelstiltskin pinpointed the voice to a rather new frame. Dark and gloomy, the portrait framed its centerpiece quite well. A gaunt faced man with pale skin and an abnormally large nose stared at him through locks of greasy black hair.
Directing his words to the portrait Rumpelstiltskin snapped, "I'm not a miscreant."
"Yes, none of you ever are," the man replied.
"Severus," said the other mysterious voice, "let the boy be. He's having a hard-enough time as it is."
Rumpelstiltskin identified this speaker as the portrait hanging directly behind the Headmistress's desk. A wizened old wizard with a kind face and half mooned spectacles smiled down at him. A long flowing white beard and matching hair identified the man readily enough. Which could only mean... Rumpelstiltskin did a double take back to the first speaker.
Slowly a smirk spread across the Ravenclaw's face. "I'm being criticized for causing trouble by the man who acted as a double agent during the Wizarding War? Typical." Rumpelstiltskin made certain that both portraits caught sight of him rolling his eyes.
"He's got a point Severus," Albus Dumbledore chuckled from his place on the far wall. Shooting Rumpelstiltskin a wink, the old Headmaster continued prodding his predecessor. "Besides, I seem to remember you having quite the attitude at that age as well."
Severus Snape let out a withering sigh in reply. "I had to deal with Black and Potter, even you would have had an attitude Albus."
"I daresay you might be right in that at least."
Rumpelstiltskin sat listening intently as the two war heroes continued their banter. They were little more than paint on parchment, but this was the closest anyone could come to actually speaking with two of the great minds that helped bring about Voldemort's defeat. To say the boy was a bit starstruck, would have been a vast understatement. Not even fear of punishment from the Headmistress could stem his excitement. He'd been in this room many times, but never had the portraits spoken to him before. Of course, he'd usually been in the middle of being reamed out by Blue, so there was little opportunity for such a discussion.
But one name caught his attention and Rumple couldn't keep quiet any longer. "Potter?" He asked his mind quick at work. "You went to school with James Potter?" Rumple knew that name well. Whenever Malcolm talked about his time at Hogwarts, he made certain to mention James Potter and his Quidditch skills.
However, it was apparently the wrong question to ask the previous Headmaster. Snape's face contorted in disdain. "Yes, I had the pleasure of being graced by the presence of James Potter and his friends while I was a student here."
The portrait spoke with scathing derision. A tone Rumpelstiltskin understood exceedingly well. That kind of hatred was born from years of dislike. He spoke about Jones in a similar fashion.
"My father went to school with James Potter," Rumple explained. "He was a year behind Potter and that lot. Played Quidditch against him."
An odd look flashed across the old Potion Master's face, to quick for Rumpelstiltskin to catch. But it was Dumbledore who filled the silence first. "What house was your father in?" The old man asked with polite curiosity.
"Slytherin," Rumpelstiltskin breathed. He shouldn't have mentioned his father, he rarely did. But these two men were personal heroes of his, especially Snape, he'd wanted to contribute something. Now though, he would be forced to explain who his father was and the two men he so respected would look down on him like everyone else. Warmth crept to the boy's face at the two penetrating looks he received.
"Who is your father?" Snape enquired.
"Mal, Malcom Gold," Rumpelstiltskin stammered quietly. He kept his head down eyes fixed on the hands folded in his lap as he awaited their ire.
While quiet permeated the office, the young man silently berated himself for bringing up his parents at all. Snape would've met his father and his mother several times. They'd all been deeply entrenched in Voldemort's plots and plans.
When Snape next spoke, his voice had lost its sharp edge. "You're Malcolm Gold's boy."
Rumpelstiltskin nodded without looking up, scared of what he might see.
"You've grown quite a bit since I last saw you," the former Death Eater acknowledged without a trace of scorn in his tone.
At that Rumple's head snapped up as he turned to face the portrait. "I don't remember seeing you. And trust me, that's something I would've remembered."
"Well you were far more…portable at the time," Snape quipped. "Fiona didn't like brining you around that crowd and after she passed…" The stricken man stopped suddenly, realizing he'd spoken callously.
"It's okay," Rumpelstiltskin admitted as he stood and walked over to the portrait. "I never really knew her all that well. And Malcolm refused to talk about her."
The knowing look he received from Snape at the use of his father's name instead of title, left Rumpelstiltskin feeling uncomfortable. What more did the man know about his father?
"I never really figured Malcolm to be the father type," Snape commented, answering Rumpelstiltskin's unspoken question. An understanding passed between the young boy and the portrait. One that certainly didn't need words and yet conveyed more than either could express.
"I don't ever think he did either."
The conversation ended abruptly as Headmistress Blue entered her office a harried look on her face. "Gold," she snipped, "why am I not surprised to see you in here again."
Rumpelstiltskin moved slowly back to his usual seat across from her desk, head down and eyes on the floor as he received yet another scolding from the Headmistress. Taking his two weeks of detention for hexing the "blameless" Phillip Prince in stride, Rumple stood to leave. Before going he shot the portrait of Albus Dumbledore a cheeky wink causing the old man's eyes to crinkle with a grin.
Walking out the door, the young man shared another long look with Severus Snape's portrait. Perhaps it was simply paint on a piece of enchanted paper, but his conversation with the Potions Master left Rumpelstiltskin feeling as if maybe there was someone in the world who actually understood him.
A/N pt 2: This chapter was so much fun that it will probably happen again. I'm always accepting prompts down in the comments/reviews below. Let me know what you think and as always, I'll see you guys next time.