"You met her, and she's not outraged, in tears, speechless or otherwise."

"Oh she was speechless Albus, just not for too long."

"And you didn't once say anything hurtful or demeaning."

"No, I was following your orders and being a good little servant of your every whim."

"Now, now, you know it's not like that."

"Of course it's like that. Do this do that, meet him, meet her, be a good host, bow down…"

"Right."

"Indeed."

"Why hasn't she come storming to my portrait or Minerva's office, demanding answers?"

"Because she asked all her questions, and I gave her answers to all of them."

"ALL of them??"

"Whatever she could think of."

"Now that is completely unbelievable."

"You wound me, Albus."

"Oh quit being so melodramatic."

"Me? You're the one being melodramatic; giving that chit of a woman such dire warnings before she came here. Made her utterly suspicious."

"She wouldn't have told you what I had warned her."

"She didn't."

"My word! You read her mind without permission?"

"Oh come on, Dumbledore. Try that with someone else but me. I know you far too well to fall for display of your righteous anger. How many times have you done the same to others?"

Jonathan raised a hand to stall any arguments, "and I will not admit your claim for the greater good. You know as well as anyone what I thought of your need to play God and Master."

"I was merely going to ask you how she took it when she saw you."

"Oh she was baffled of course, but only for a while. Once she gained her bearings, she was once again the vociferous walking questionnaire."

"You talk of it as if it were a bad thing."

Jonathan glared, while the headmaster looked amused. This was interesting, no doubt.

"And she said nothing? I would have expected her to fire off questions and anger you."

"Oh she did fire off questions, a great lot of them even."

"It's unbelievable!"

"Well, believe what you must. I have things to accomplish."

"Now, humour an old man, and tell me…"

"Have I not humoured you enough? Leave me alone, Albus!"

"Calm down, you know this is important."

"It is nothing short of tyranny! I have done all you have asked of me, and we have broken even. Do not ask me to entertain any more school girls who have nothing better to do than gawk all day!"

"Hermione is not a school girl, and hasn't been for a long time, you know that."

"I also know that she and her incompetent husband are divorced, or soon to be, they have no children, and she has not yet obtained her masters, because she was too busy feeding and changing that extra large baby she calls Ronald. Is that quite enough, or shall I go on?"

"She told you all this?"

"She told me some of it, and it doesn't take a genius to piece the story together."

"Ah, that is surprising. You were interested in her personal life?"

"The hell I was! I was just being polite and making conversation, and thanks to you and that girl, I lost half a day's work!"

"Polite? Making conversation?"

"Yes, those are words used in genteel society, or have you grown too old and senile to understand them?"

"Now, now, Jonathan. Hold on a bit. I am 168 years old am I not?"

"How should I know? Besides, you're a portrait for goodness sake; you'll live as long as anyone has a portrait of you, the count being unfortunately high."

Albus chuckled at the distinctly petulant expression on the other man's face. He was just being difficult for the fun of it.

"Perhaps," Albus stroked his long beard, while Jonathan considered a curtain and silencing charm for the portrait, like Mrs. Black at Grimauld.

After a minute, Jonathan lost his patience. "Perhaps, what? Albus," he gritted out.

"Hmm? Oh! I was thinking perhaps you have enjoyed company; her company?"

"Enjoyed? Are you dafter than usual?"

"Ah! Perhaps not."

"If you are quite finished, Headmaster, perhaps," Jonathan stressed on the word, "you should consider leaving me to my duties."

"I suppose I can ask for details about the meeting," Ah! Dumbledore noted with satisfaction; There! That little frisson of worry that ran through the other man, too quickly masked for the unknowing observer. Dumbledore, on the other hand, knew exactly where to look. There was something he was not being told, and damned if he didn't find it out.

"Now she wouldn't accidentally have her fingers crossed when talking to me, now would she?"

Jonathan would have flushed, but only raised an eyebrow, "Accidents happen."

"Ah, of course. Well, I shall now let you attend to your duties." He paused halfway out of his painted stuffed armchair, "it might interest you to know that her divorce has been finalised."

"Now what reason would that have to interest me?"

"Nothing, well, ramblings of an old man I suppose."

The younger man said something under his breath that distinctly sounded like "mad as a hatter, even."

Without so much as a 'Goodnight' Jonathan turned abruptly on his heel and disappeared as fast as his long legs could carry him through the door, into his private lab.

Dumbledore stroked his beard and headed out of the painting. It was too late in the night to bother Hermione, so he decided to take a walk through the castle's paintings, and think over.