Recommendation: This chapter's recommended fic is "The Rebel and The Chosen" by chelseyb. Harry and Tonks meet and become friends, but after a tragedy strikes, their friendship grows into something more. Harry/Tonks.
Chapter 45 - Every Breath You Take
Saturday, March 6, 1995, Morning.
As Jasmine and Hermione wandered through Hogsmeade, they tried to avoid looking at all the people around them. Judging from the stares and whispers, residents and students alike all seemed to have read Rita Skeeter's article, so as much as the girls wanted to enjoy a relaxing morning window shopping, they couldn't avoid the uglier effects of media attention.
Because they tried so hard to ignore everyone around them, they made it easy for Draco Malfoy to follow them. They didn't notice him glaring at them from across the street as they looked into store windows. They didn't notice him hanging around outside the shop as they purchased especially lurid socks for Dobby. They didn't notice him skulking in a darkened corner of the Three Broomsticks as they tried to enjoy a quiet lunch and butterbeer.
They also didn't notice as they slipped him entirely when it was time to go up into the mountains in order to meet Sirius. In the end, Draco Malfoy was left standing in the middle of Hogsmeade without any idea of where his quarry had gone and wondering how he could spin this failure to make himself look good to his father.
One thing was certain though: from now on, he'd have to be much more careful watching every move that halfblood witch made.
Saturday, March 6, 1995, Afternoon.
Sirius Black was disillusioned so he could keep an eye on the two young witches as they made their way up the hill towards the cave where they had already met a few times. Once he was confident that they weren't being followed or tracked, he got the bright idea of grabbing them both from behind to prank them.
That was a mistake.
He noticed them cast sidelong glances at each other and wondered again at their apparent powers of silent communication before everything abruptly went black.
When Sirius came back to consciousness, he noticed that he was lying on the floor of the cave, bound in thick magical ropes. He blinked several times to get used to the darkness and only then realized that he had two wands trained on him — and behind the wands were two glaring, angry witches.
Sirius gulped audibly before saying, "Um, hi?"
Jasmine leaned closer and said, "What's Sirius Black's alternate form?"
"Uh, I'm a dog animagus. I look like a large Grimm," Sirius replied quickly.
Jasmine leaned back and shared a look with Hermione. "I guess that's him," the bushy-haired witch said, sounding almost disappointed.
"Does that mean we have to let him go, though?" Jasmine asked, eliciting a very canine-like whimper from Sirius.
"He asked for the meeting, so it's probably important," Hermione replied with a shrug, "And it'll be easier if he's free and sitting."
"Fine," Jasmine said in a long-suffering tone of voice. With a quick Finite, she dispelled the magical ropes, and Sirius was soon sitting, rubbing his arms and legs where the circulation had been cut off.
"What were you thinking, sneaking up on us like that?" Hermione demanded, her hands fisted into her hips.
"At first, I was just trying to make sure you weren't followed and didn't have any new tracking charms placed on you," Sirius explained. "Once that was done, though, I thought I'd surprise you by grabbing you from behind." Sirius had the good sense to look regretful about that decision, especially in the face of the continued glares from the two witches.
"Sirius," Jasmine said sternly, "you do realize, don't you, that we asked for those nasty spells you gave us because people want to attack us? What if we had used one on you before we realized who it was?"
"Don't worry, I won't try it again," he said, putting up his hands in a sign of surrender. "I promise!"
The girls just shook their heads in exasperation, so Sirius hastily cast cushioning charms on some rocks so they could get on with the meeting. "First," he said, "I have here all the notes I could collect on blood tracking charms." He handed over a sheaf of parchment. "There's information on dispelling them as well as my own observations from testing a blood tracking instrument I found in my old family home."
"Thanks, Sirius," Hermione said, eager as always to acquire new knowledge — especially knowledge that might help Jasmine. She knew that she might not be able to solve Jasmine's problem, but she was determined to try her best.
"Second, some good news," he continued. "I'm getting help from portraits of Black family members. Even my mother is helping, and she was an irredeemably horrid person when she was alive. She was the main reason I left home and moved in with your father's parents, Jasmine."
"Why has she changed?" Jasmine asked. "Are you sure she even has changed?"
"Actually, in some ways she hasn't changed," Sirius replied. "Many of her opinions are still bigoted and horrible, but the difference is that for some reason, she no longer wants to act on them. I don't know why — maybe something went wrong in the magic when the painting woke up; but while she still thinks that muggleborn are inferior, she doesn't want them killed or forced to be second-class citizens. It's... weird, frankly. It's hard to reconcile the two, never mind reconcile it all with my memories of her when she was alive." Sirius shrugged. "So long as I ignore her occasional epithets, she's OK to be around."
"That does sound odd," Hermione agreed, making a mental note to learn more about magical portraits.
"Anyway, one of the portraits is of a many-times great aunt who was a mind healer, Elladora Black, and she's giving me counseling to help me get over my time in Azkaban."
"That's great, Sirius!" Jasmine exclaimed.
"Yeah, well, I guess I've needed it." Sirius responded, running his hand through his hair and looking a little embarrassed. "My mother actually forced the issue and had Kreacher pour all the alcohol down the drain. I was starting to drink too much, and she recognized that if I continued on that course, I wouldn't be able to help you. And you were the key for her."
"Me?" Jasmine asked, confused.
"I know, I didn't understand it at first either," Sirius said. "but you're named after her favorite aunt, Dorea. There was only a few years age difference between the two of them, and they grew up more like sisters. My mother loved Dorea Black, who married Charlus Potter and became your grandmother."
Hermione looked suddenly thoughtful. "Is Dorea a common name in the wizarding world? Because I meant to tell you," she said, turning to Jasmine, "that I was digging in the footnotes of, uh, that book, the one by D. Tempest? And that's apparently what the 'D' stands for."
Sirius shook his head. "No, it's not common — certainly not in my family. There's a tradition for members of my family to be named after stars and constellations, but that's more among the men. Yet it seems to be one reason my mother has focused on you, Jasmine. She regards you as a granddaughter of the House of Black and is determined to see that you get all the help she can organize — and to that end, she's enlisted the aid of all the house's portraits."
"Wow," Hermione said. "What can they do?"
"They all have at least one other frame elsewhere, and sometimes more than one," Sirius explained. "Those frames may be in the Ministry, St. Mungo's, Hogwarts, and even other homes. They are all going to provide whatever knowledge they had in life as well as whatever information they can gather from their other frames."
"Spies!" Hermione said.
"Exactly," Sirius replied, nodding. "And that brings me to my last bit of news, which is both good and bad." He saw the trepidation on their faces so tried not to drag this out. "The good news is that one of the portraits we have on our side is Phineas Nigellus Black, a former—"
"Headmaster of Hogwarts!" Hermione exclaimed. "So we have a spy inside the headmaster's office!"
"You are a quick one," Sirius said, clearly impressed. "All former headmasters are oath-bound to help the current headmaster and keep his secrets. Phineas, though, was a Slytherin and a Black, so he took an altered oath that ensured that his oaths as head of the Black family took precedence over those he took as a headmaster. In short, we own him, not Dumbledore."
"And I'm guessing that's where the bad news comes in?" Jasmine asked, worry growing on her face.
"Yep," Sirius said. "Two bits of bad news, in fact. First is that all of the portraits in the castle report to him, and right now, they are watching you. Everything you say, every move, every step... if it happens where a portrait can see you, assume that the headmaster will learn of it. Phineas himself reported back in January about you meeting with the French champion, something he promises he won't do again."
"Eww!" Jasmine said. "That's just... creepy."
"I know!" Hermione agreed. "Wholly aside from how this affects our ability to train and plan, the thought that an old man is watching two young girls so obsessively is... is just... ick!"
"But not a surprise, not after what happened to me," Jasmine pointed out with a scowl. Hermione nodded sadly in agreement.
"What happened?" Sirius asked, concerned.
Jasmine sighed. "Both Dumbledore and Snape used legilimency on me earlier this week. Dumbledore was gentle, and once I realized what was going on, I broke eye contact. Snape was…rather less gentle. I already had a headache that had developed after the headmaster's attack, and Snape's just made it worse. For some reason, though, he stumbled backwards after he started and knocked over a cauldron. That put an end to the lesson and we all left."
"It was such an awful violation!" Hermione said angrily as she put a hand on Jasmine's shoulder. "They shouldn't be allowed to do things like that!"
Sirius moved to embrace both witches where they sat. "Technically, they aren't," he said. "It's illegal to perform legilimency on underage witches and wizards without DMLE approval. Unfortunately, proving that it happened is almost impossible." He pulled back a bit and looked at them. "I want you to put extra time into practicing occlumency and legilimency, you hear?" When they both nodded, he stood back up and returned to his cushioned rock.
Sirius shivered at the thought of someone not just invading his goddaughter's mind, but also obsessively watching them via the castle's portraits. If anything, this news made him even more determined to help and protect the two witches. Originally he'd been focused on helping his goddaughter, but upon learning how close Jasmine was to Hermione and how much they relied upon each other, he realized that he'd have to help and support both.
After a few more minutes discussing mental magics, he continued, "The second bit of news is that Phineas recently heard Dumbledore debating with himself about trying to split you two apart, or at least damage your friendship enough so that you don't spend as much time together."
"What!?" both witches cried in unison.
Sirius nodded and said, "I'm afraid so. He saw Dumbledore's attempt to interview you about the second task, Jasmine. He said you did a good job, by the way. As you might have guessed, the headmaster wasn't too happy because he didn't get whatever he was fishing for. For some reason, he ended up concluding that you've changed because of Hermione's influence, so he wants to reduce that influence."
Sirius didn't miss either the horrified looks on their faces or the fact that they seemed to almost unconsciously slide closer together. He could imagine having a similar reaction if someone had suggested that the headmaster wanted to wreck his friendship with James.
"Do you… do you…" Hermione was almost in tears as she tried to speak. "Do you think he was responsible for that article in the Daily Prophet?"
Sirius shook his head. "I doubt it. Phineas never heard or saw anything like that being planned. What little he did see after the article came out suggested that Dumbledore wasn't happy about it but is prepared to use it anyway if it will help him with his plans."
Both witches showed a bit of relief. The idea of their headmaster libeling the two of them in front of all of wizarding Britain would have been too much for them to bear.
"I'm sorry about that article, by the way," Sirius added. "I was shocked when I saw it, and the portrait of my mother was absolutely livid. If she'd been alive, I'm certain that she'd have tracked Rita Skeeter down and cursed her into next week. Or used unforgivables, perhaps. In fact, I'm not entirely sure that she won't try anyway. She was always a very determined woman, and if anyone's portrait can figure out how to cast a cruciatus, it's hers." This got a weak chuckle from the witches.
"I don't suppose you have any suspects for who might be behind this?" he asked.
"We're pretty sure that Draco Malfoy and a few other Slytherins were involved," Hermione said. "They looked entirely too pleased with themselves when the paper arrived."
Sirius nodded. "That article was definitely something his father might do, so I wouldn't put it past Draco to be involved. Nor Lucius, for that matter. There's also the possibility that whoever got you into this tournament was behind the article as well. The goal of both is to hurt you, after all."
If anything, the girls were even more worried now.
"Getting back to Dumbledore," Sirius cautioned them, "just because he wasn't responsible for this incident doesn't mean he won't be responsible for something else. He still wants to separate you two — if this article doesn't accomplish that for him, he'll try to find some way of doing it himself. So watch your backs, and watch each other's backs."
Jasmine and Hermione both nodded before leaning in against each other, the revelations of what the old man wanted having taken a surprising emotional toll on them. The idea that he was constantly watching them, keeping an eye on everything they did, was more than a little disturbing. The fact that he wanted to separate them was simply outrageous. They'd fight to stay together, even if it meant making him as much of an enemy as the Death Eaters were.
Saturday, March 6, 1995, Night.
Fleur Delacour flopped backwards into her bed, sore and aching all over and absolutely dead tired. It hadn't even been a week since her new life had started, and she wasn't sure she was going to survive it. She never seemed to have a minute to herself anymore. Every day was long, grueling, and tiring, yet ultimately rewarding. Every day, she could easily point to important things she'd learned as well as new physical development.
Not to mention new bruises and sore muscles.
Groaning, she forced herself up out of the bed and towards the shower. Gabrielle was already there, somehow having found the energy more easily than she had, and Fleur welcomed the company. The little things were made easier when shared with someone who understood what it was like to be too tired to pick up a bar of soap or lift a fork to one's mouth.
"I don't know how you do it," Fleur said as Gabrielle made room. "I had a hard enough time during my maturation, and my life was normal back then; yours has not only come early, but it's proceeding much faster than usual. And on top of that, you're going through the same training that has me exhausted every night. Not to mention the lessons which Maman and Adrienne are giving us…."
Her little sister shrugged, and Fleur noted that she wasn't so little anymore. Very soon she'd be nearly as tall as Fleur and every bit as strong. Between her rapid growth and the scarily single-minded way in which she had been approaching her training, Fleur suspected that it wouldn't be long before she wouldn't be able to defeat Gabrielle in a fight.
"I'm not sure I understand it myself," Gabrielle said. "Ever since the second task, though, I've felt like I can't run out of energy. And once I found out about what lies ahead of us... well, I've been really excited about what we're learning and what we're going to be doing. It's all I can think about! I never imagined that I'd get the chance to be trained in combat by veteran Amazzi like Phoebe and Areto."
Humming in pleasure as the hot spray hit her sore back, Fleur wondered if this change in Gabrielle was due to their new bond with the two English witches. Taking the shampoo working it into Gabrielle's hair, she said, "It's nice being with veela again. Even Phoebe and Areto are a delight to be around after spending so much time isolated."
"Somehow I doubt you thought Areto was such a 'delight' as she whacked you on the bum with her sword this morning when you didn't move fast enough!" Gabrielle said with a laugh. "Even if it was only the flat side."
Fleur winced at the memory and resisted the urge the rub the bruise she knew must be forming there. "OK, fine, it's not all delightful," she grumbled, "but given the reputation the Amazzi have, I expected them to be a lot more standoffish."
"True," Gabrielle agreed. "I found it stressful enough when it was just the two of us here. I can't imagine how you coped when you were alone."
"You get used to it," Fleur responded as she turned around to let Gabrielle shampoo her hair. "Up to a point, at least. The itching sensations and physical discomfort are easiest to get used to over time. But the overwhelming loneliness of feeling so isolated... I'm not sure I ever really got used to that. There were times when I would have given anything to have been visited by family, even just to sit and chat, and..."
"What is it?" Gabrielle asked when Fleur simply trailed off.
"I'm not sure," Fleur whispered as she turned around to face her sister. "I was just thinking about how much I want to sit and chat again with Jasmine and Hermione, like we did before the second task. They just popped into my head when I mentioned being visited by family."
Gabrielle cocked her head and looked thoughtful for a moment, then nodded. "Now that you mention it, I do think I'm missing them in a way that feels more like family — like how I missed Maman and Grandmere while I was visiting you here last month."
"Even though you barely know them," Fleur pointed out.
"Jasmine saved my life," Gabrielle said with a frown as she turned Fleur back around so she could finish her sister's hair. "Of course I would miss her."
Fleur wasn't so sure, though. Now much more awake, she thought about how the closeness, warmth, and even serenity she normally only felt around certain veela were now also associated with those two English witches. I'm not sure which is more curious, she considered, that, or the fact that Gabrielle doesn't see anything odd in it. I'm going to have to talk about this with Maman and Adrienne during our next lesson.
Sunday, March 7, 1995, Afternoon.
As Jasmine and Hermione walked down the corridor, they kept casting surreptitious glances at the paintings along the walls. Both felt a bit unclean at the idea that they were being watched even now, so kept up a quick pace in order to get behind closed doors for some privacy.
When Professor McGonagall bid them enter, Hermione said in a loud voice, "We're here for our Transfiguration tutoring, Professor." When the door closed behind them, both slumped against it, mentally exhausted from constantly worrying about who or what was watching them and what might be reported.
Minerva raised a questioning eyebrow at that. "I'm sorry, Professor," Hermione said, "but we learned that the Headmaster is using the portraits to spy on everything we do, then report back to him if we do anything he might be interested in."
Jasmine shuddered and said, "It's insanely creepy, and I want to take a shower every time I think about it."
Minerva pursed her lips. "Are you absolutely certain of this?"
"Yes, we are." Hermione answered. "I don't think we should reveal our source, at least not without permission; but I think we can say that they are not only reliable, but very close to the Headmaster as well."
Their professor nodded. "Very well, I understand the need to keep that sort of information quiet. I'm very disappointed to hear about this. I knew that he used the portraits to keep an eye out for trouble and fully support that, but targeting students for constant monitoring without a very, very good reason is disturbing."
"Actually, that's not the only bad news," Jasmine said with a weary sigh as she and Hermione made their way over to their usual seats where the tea had been laid out.
"Oh?" Minerva asked, not entirely sure she wanted to hear what else might be going on.
"During my meeting with Dumbledore, he tried to use legilimency," Jasmine said. "Then in Potions later that day, Snape did the same thing — and he was far less gentle about it." Jasmine sighed. "The headache they gave me eventually went away, but I still feel… violated. Dirty, even. Like I can't get clean. The very idea of having them traipsing around in the private areas of my mind is so disturbing. I can't stop thinking about it, but thinking about it makes me feel worse!" Her voice broke with this last.
Minerva closed her eyes in an effort to calm herself lest she march up to the headmaster's office and demonstrate her prowess at human transfiguration, up close and personal. "I can't believe that man," she muttered darkly. "How is your mental magics training going?" she asked when she opened her eyes again.
"Well enough," Hermione said. "Based on the texts we have, we must be doing reasonably well if Jasmine is already able to detect a slow, careful Legilimency attack from someone as skilled as the Headmaster. We've also sussed out why Snape's assault failed." She and Jasmine had agreed to not mention Sirius, just in case their professor was under any oaths to report such information.
Jasmine actually smiled at this point. "At the time, he'd been insulting me non-stop for several minutes, and I was already furious because of what had happened with Dumbledore. I had been imagining creative ways of him dying when I looked into his eyes. That's apparently what he would have seen first, and it upset him so much that he stumbled backwards into a cauldron."
"According to what we've read, some Occlumency masters use a similar technique," Hermione added. "Instead of simply blocking legilimency, they throw up false memories to fool people or painful ones to drive them out." She looked over at her girlfriend with a proud expression on her face. "Jasmine managed something like that without even trying!"
Minerva smiled, apparently pleased that at least one of those two had gotten their comeuppance.
"And that's not everything, I'm afraid," Jasmine said, causing their professor to lose her smile. "According to our source, the Headmaster thinks that my behavior and attitude have changed in a bad way, and that Hermione's influence must be the reason, so that influence must be reduced or removed."
"In other words," Hermione continued, "he wants to drive enough of a wedge between us that we won't be as close anymore."
Realizing at this point at they had been so engrossed in the conversation that they had completely forgotten the tea, the two younger witches set about applying warming charms and serving; consequently they failed to notice how deeply shocked Minerva was at this latest revelation, or how much she struggled to maintain a calm facade.
"Was he..." Minerva swallowed thickly before continuing. "Was he responsible for that awful article in the Daily Prophet?"
"Not as far as we know," Jasmine answered as she blew on her tea. "We were told he was pretty unhappy about it, actually."
"Not that that will prevent him from trying to use it anyway," Hermione added with a scowl. "But since there's no way that article will pull us apart, we can be sure that he'll try something of his own sooner or later."
Minerva nodded, trying to get herself collected again so she could have a proper conversation. Merlin's Beard! she thought as she played for time by slowly preparing her own tea. Albus has no idea what he might be in for if he tries to seriously interfere with their relationship. Yet at the same time, I can't actually tell him what's going on — and even if I could, I'm not sure I'd be able to take the risk.
"I was hoping to talk to you two about that article," Minerva started off. "I'm sorry that there was no time to do so sooner."
"That's alright," Hermione responded. "We were horrified at first, but we calmed down a little when we realized that it wasn't outing us and our actual relationship."
Jasmine nodded in agreement. "That headline and some of what the article said really made it look like Skeeter had discovered the truth. Instead, it was just a pack of lies."
"The lies are so obvious that we're not taking it seriously," Hermione said, "though people's reactions hurt at first. Now, we're mostly just disappointed that so many others in the school seem to be taking the lies seriously."
"Students here won't be the only ones," Minerva pointed out. "Wizards and witches all over Britain will believe what Skeeter wrote and will think very poorly of the two of you as a consequence. You'll need to be careful from here on out because more people will be watching you closely, looking for evidence of Skeeter's claims."
"Great," Jasmine said sourly. "More people watching our every move. That's all we need."
"The one thing we are taking seriously is how she got any of her information," Hermione said. "First is whoever is quoted in the article. We're sure it was Malfoy and some of his cronies. Second is how she knew Viktor had invited me to Bulgaria."
"That was actually true?" Minerva asked in surprise.
"Yes," Hermione replied, "but he did it when Jasmine and Neville were the only people anywhere close to us, and even they didn't hear him say it. So how did she find out? It's worrisome."
Minerva nodded in agreement. "It is indeed. You can be sure that I'll keep an eye out for her. I was going to do so anyway, but now it's even more imperative, I think."
They continued to discuss the article, people's reactions, and the aftermath of the second task for more than an hour. Minerva found out that they had discussed it with Viktor, who was very upset and had contacted the owners of his Quidditch team to see if they could do anything legally. He wasn't too optimistic, though, since the article didn't appear in a Bulgarian newspaper, and British laws didn't offer many protections against false reporting.
Once the two younger witches were getting ready to leave, Hermione remembered to ask, "Professor, could you show me how to do the copying spell you used on the parchment where I listed all of the suspicious behavior of the Headmaster?"
"Certainly," she responded. "What do you need it for?"
"I got some muggle books from my mother for Jasmine and then lent them to a couple of other girls in Gryffindor," Hermione explained. "Apparently, these books have been making the rounds through all four houses, and other witches are interested in reading more. I've written my mum about it and asked her to send new copies so I can duplicate them for all the witches who want them."
"Very interesting — ten points to Gryffindor for furthering inter-house cooperation," Minerva said with a hint of a smile. "I can teach you the spell, but if you expect to make a lot of copies, I can also help you more directly. Once you have the books, why don't you come here one evening and we'll do them all together. That way I can supervise and help ensure that you produce good-quality copies."
"That would be great!" Hermione said, looking forward to the chance to work on a project with her favorite professor. In reality, Minerva would end up learning far more than Hermione.
Sunday, March 7, 1995, Night.
Albus Dumbledore frowned into his tea as he listened to the report from the portrait of Edessa Skanderberg, a headmistress from the 16th century. "Are you sure about this, Edessa?" he asked as he took another sip of tea.
"Absolutely, Headmaster," the portrait responded. "Today wasn't the first time I witnessed it from my other frame near the Transfiguration corridor. It was only today, though, that I remembered it happening a couple of other times in the past. I didn't think anything of it then, but since you called for a closer watch to be kept on the Potter girl, well… I thought you should know."
Dumbledore nodded and said, "Thank you, Edessa — I appreciate your vigilance on this matter. Please keep me informed if it continues to happen. And let the other portraits in that area know that I want a special watch to be made for such behavior as well."
After Edessa left to deliver the message, Dumbledore set down his tea cup and stood up so he could walk over to his office window and look down at the darkened Hogwarts grounds. So, Miss Potter and Miss Granger have met with Minerva in her office on several recent Sundays, Dumbledore mused to himself. She can't be giving Miss Potter any direct help for the tournament — the magic of the Triwizard Cup prevents it. But she may have found a way to provide indirect help, as I'm sure Pomona is doing for Mr. Diggory.
He smiled at this, pleased with both her ingenuity and the prospect of the Girl Who Lived learning more magic. I'm glad to see that she's finally reaching out, seeking knowledge and training on her own rather than just expecting to have it all spoon-fed to her. That bodes well for our society's future. I'd feel more comfortable if I could monitor what she is learning, though. Minerva is trustworthy, but still…. As he considered the ramifications, doubt began to niggle at the back of his mind. What if it's something else? What else might be going on?
Not for the first time, he lamented the fact that Minerva had refused to allow any of the moving portraits in either her office or in her private rooms. He still remembered how vehement her refusal had been, complaining about being watched all the time.
Ignorance of what was going on around him was not a condition which Albus Dumbledore bore easily, especially when it involved events in his own castle. Moreover, this wasn't the first situation where he was being kept in the dark about something involving Miss Potter. Dumbledore believed in coincidences, but he didn't trust them, and he didn't trust that there wasn't something important behind all of those situations.
He just needed to find a way to get more information, then he could start making better plans… plans that would, hopefully, induce some separation between Miss Potter and Miss Granger.
All the while, the headmaster was being closely observed by the portrait of Phineas Black, who was having more and more difficulty maintaining his impassive expression. He'd always been a detractor of the sorts of policies which Dumbledore favored, both those in the school and in the Wizengamot. As a Slytherin and member of the Black family, his values, ideals, and way of looking at the world were all very different from those of the current headmaster. It was only natural that they would disagree, and that Phineas' portrait would be inclined to recommend changes.
Now that his oath to the Black family had been called in, though, other aspects of his personality were coming to the fore. As a consequence, he was starting to edge away from a simple difference of opinion with Dumbledore towards outright hostility, something that wouldn't normally be possible for any portrait of a former headmaster. He realized he'd have to work hard to avoid giving any indication of his changed allegiance — his ability to watch everything the headmaster did meant that his worth as a spy was incalculable, and he intended to keep doing it for as long as he could.
Fred and George looked around the abandoned classroom being used by Jasmine Potter and her friends. They had invested a bit of time and effort into this, hoping to discover something interesting or fun, and were disappointed that thus far nothing had happened. The recent Daily Prophet article only fueled their interest: they didn't actually believe it, but they suspected that something interesting was probably going on, otherwise there wouldn't have been any starting point for the article to have been built upon.
"Everything looks the same, dear brother," one of them said, and his twin nodded in agreement.
"Our monitoring and listening charms are still in place, though they could stand to be refreshed," the second noted as he got to work on them. Once he was done, he cast a few more detection spells around the place, just to be sure they hadn't missed anything.
"Any idea why they haven't been using this room?" the first twin asked.
"If they are using this to train and learn for the tournament, then maybe it's because there is still lots of time until the final task," the second twin responded. "When we first found out about this place, it was just after the second task."
"Possible, but then that would be boring," the first twin noted. "All this time and effort to listen to our little bookworm recite spells for the Girl Who Lived to practice would be a bit of a waste. And why would they work so hard to protect the room from eavesdroppers like us if that's all they were doing?"
"Indeed," his brother responded, then pointed out, "We also haven't seen the French champion around in a while."
"True, brother," the first twin agreed. "Not since the last time they were all in here, in fact, and we couldn't get our listening charms past whatever protections were on the door."
"So maybe it's her absence that's the reason why they haven't been back?" the second twin proposed.
"Also possible, as well as potentially more interesting," the first twin responded.
They vowed to keep watching for the French veela, keep an eye on the room, and not let the younger witches out of their sight, at least as much as was possible. They were determined to get to the bottom of this mystery, one way or another.