Chapter Sixteen
Painting Consultations
Between family, house business, and helping Boulderdash prepare for the auction, it was over a week after the trip before Eben managed to find both the time and the privacy needed to slip into the Trophy Room.
Next door, Eben could hear the muffled sound of Professor Andrew running his younger family members through their defensive forms. Andrew's responses seemed light instead of serious... it had a very different air about it than when his father drilled forms with them in the summer. Eben pondered that as he went inside, glancing behind him to see Caprica's frame empty before turning his attention to the Sentinel's Painting and at the strange group playing cards in the painting. He was more than a little nervous that Professor Ravenclaw or Janus Craw might tell someone, not to mention young Danny. He was staring at it so long as he weighed the odds that the painting itself took notice.
"What's the matter son? Cat got your tongue?" the painting of the portrait of Caprica said.
"I know a potion that can fix that," Icarus Ravenclaw offered, throwing a ghostly card onto the table.
"It's okay, you know, we won't bite," young Corey said.
"I'm Eben," Eben said.
"We know. We've seen you around," Corey said. "You're in the Order of the Owls with my youngest brother."
"Yes, that's right," Eben said. "Actually I'm looking for... well, I was told Merlin was in this painting."
"Oh yeah? Who told you that?" Corey asked, squinting at him.
"Ambrose did, actually," Eben said. "I needed to talk to him about something, and he suggested I try here."
"That's different, then," Corey decided. "I'll go see if he's free."
"Take your turn first," Essie protested, and Corey looked at his hand and threw a card down before stepping out. "That was a terrible card," she groaned, putting her head in her hand.
"Worked out good for me though, didn't it?" Angela chuckled, picking it up.
"You look familiar," Eben said to Angela.
"Apparently I have a daughter in Hogwarts right now who looks a lot like me," Angela replied. "Garnet Greisley, she's into Quidditch."
"Oh yeah. She's on the Hufflepuff team. A Beater," Eben said.
"My real life's son Markus is a Beater on the Gryffindor Team," Essie said.
"Just like his dad," Doug said, and Essie blushed at that.
"Ravenclaw Beater," Taylor said, Danny nodding at that.
"Isn't anyone here related to a Slytherin?" Eben asked.
"My firstborn daughter was a Slytherin, but she graduated a long time ago. My real self originally planned only one and got caught up in the Minute Alchemist thing," Angela said.
"A lot of people did," Doug agreed.
Corey stepped back into the frame.
"I found him. It wasn't easy," Corey reported. "He wanted to know if you wanted to speak to him somewhere more private."
"Definitely," Eben said, more than a little nervous that Professor Andrew might peek in to see why there were voices coming from the Trophy Room.
"Do you know where the secret passage is that connects to different floors?" Corey asked.
"He's a Slytherin Prefect, he'd better know it by now," Danny put in.
"Of course I do," Eben confirmed with a sigh.
"Then connect to it from the Main Staircase and turn right at the first intersection. Sixth door on the right, the one that leads to the ninth floor," Corey said.
"Alright," Eben said thoughtfully. "Thanks," he added.
"Good luck!" Corey said, sitting back down at the table.
Eben went out to the main stairs and instructed it to swing to the framed door. He hadn't ever really stepped foot on the ninth floor; there was really no reason to. Classrooms didn't go up that far, and most of the Professor accommodations were generally in rooms on the fifth through the seventh. So when he got to the door and opened it, he wasn't entirely surprised to see a few cobwebs, and when he stepped into the corridor, he could smell the dust burning off the torches when they lit up. If the torches were maintained, it wasn't entirely abandoned, Eben thought. His steps sounded hollow as he walked down the corridor, and he cast a footprint spell on himself to keep from leaving tracks. The tall window at the end of the corridor looked as if it had been cleaned, at least. Eben approached the window to get some idea of what side of the castle he was on and noticed that the door at the end was open, the only door in that section which was. Deciding that was a sign of where to go, Eben glanced out the window long enough to ascertain that he was above the chapel and close to the back grounds.
He stepped into a large, well-lit room. It had high ceilings with lots of windows and there was a strange smell in the air. Built in scroll racks and book shelves lined one of the walls, and desks were piled against the back wall next to a second room with an open door. The second room was also filled with a very dusty collection of old desks, tables, and uncomfortable looking stools that looked as if they would have given him splinters to sit on.
"It... looks like an old library," Eben said out loud. He was a bit surprised at how his voice echoed until he looked up at the barrel ceilings.
"Sort of," a voice replied, making him jump.
Eben turned around with his wand out, then relaxed when he saw it came from one of the paintings on the wall. He stepped over to see the figure of Merlin, looking very different from his Toby form and very much like Eben expected based on his description from the old tales. He was standing in a painting that was of a very medieval style, featuring men in black robes all huddled over desks with light streaking in, and rows of parchment, and colored inks. After glancing behind him, Eben realized it was the same room.
"This room is a part of the castle's workshop for making books and scrolls. Nowadays, it's referred to as the Scribe's Quarter, but it was once known as the Monk's Quarter, because it was part of the small monastery that serviced the chapel before the Reformation. Books and scrolls both religious and magic in nature were once made here, serving the castle's needs. This particular room was mostly for inking, and I've been told that it was once called the Illuminaria. I rather like the name, don't you? As you can see, these windows keep the room brightly lit during the day, so it would be ideal conditions for writing script," Merlin explained.
"It's amazing. I wonder what that would have been like to be a scribe here?" Eben said with fascination, seeing the room in a new light.
"It wasn't pleasant. Being a scribe of any kind was tough, even if you were passionate about your work," Merlin explained. "Long hours, tough on the body... especially the back, arms, and hands. I wouldn't be surprised to learn that Butterfly Balm was developed by a scribe that worked in these very halls," he muse, getting a slight smile from Eben. "Still, I'm sure there are other ways of exploring the history of the Scribe's Quarter other than listening to me. But I do like this room because of the name and its original purpose, and it's also somewhere nobody ever comes. We are unlikely to be disturbed at all, especially since I had someone lock the passage you came out of. Do you always leave the doors to secret passages open?"
"One of the first rules of Defense is knowing where the exits are," Eben said.
"Fair enough, then I'll inform you that the main corridor leading to the back stair is the door on your right close to the secret passage you came in by," Merlin informed him. "So now that we've established we're alone, what did you want to see this fine painting of Merlin about?" he asked.
"I don't really know how much you know already... being a painting," Eben said, acknowledging the fact he wasn't talking to the real Merlin.
"I get around," the painting said vaguely. "I have ways of getting in touch with my real self and he with me if there's an emergency."
"Well, have you heard of the Maxen family?" Eben asked.
"I have," Merlin acknowledged.
"I'm very worried about my sister, Mari. She's the oldest, and in some ways, it means she really has less of a choice than the rest of us," Eben said, Merlin raising his brow at that. "The two of us had the same mother, so we've always been close, but apparently Mari's been leaving stuff out of her letters lately. My father says she's going to need to be married to someone to further our family's reach this summer, but the fact that she's never mentioned anything other than attending my Aunt Blair's social events is very strange."
"Are you certain this is something your father has spoken with her about directly? Perhaps he mentioned it to you and not to her, to see if you would warn her," Merlin suggested.
"I don't think that's it. I think she's not telling me because she's unhappy about what's happening but she doesn't want me to get involved," Eben replied. "I think she's afraid I'll confront father and something bad will happen to me because of it."
"I see. Well, would you be open to me arranging a bit of recon? Your aunt's house has paintings, does it not?" Merlin inquired.
"Sure. Loads... but they're likely to be part of security. You're not going over there yourself, are you?" Eben said.
"Goodness no, I have too much to do here, and if I was seen, it might be disastrous. I'll have my apprentice arrange something a bit more under the frame."
"Wait.. no! Isn't your apprentice the Headmaster?" Eben asked, his stomach dropping.
"The Headmaster is my real self's apprentice. My apprentice is the Rogue Painting," Merlin explained. "If you are frightened that we'll inform anyone of your plight, you have no reason to concerned. The Rogue Painting understands the value of discretion and would no more inform the faculty of such private matters as I would. It is a foregone conclusion that if you were desperate enough to consult a painting for advice, it is because you do not feel it is safe to consult anyone else in your life, or you would have already done so."
"You're right, it's not safe," Eben said firmly. "My sister and I are in a very dangerous situation, because our family is our biggest threat. Frankly, we're not safe anywhere right now, not even at Hogwarts, where it would take only one thought from my siblings to get me into trouble. I want to help my sister, but Mari and I can't afford for my father to get even the slightest hint that we'd ever work against him. We're prisoners, Merlin, we were born to be our father's puppets with no choice other than to do what he says."
"No choice? I'm not sure I buy that. What about what you're doing now, taking such a chance to consult me?" Merlin pointed out.
"I do it for my sister's safety, knowing it may cost mine," Eben said evenly. "The only choice we have our lives are to follow Father's orders or to face his consequences, which is nothing short of doom. For a long time, I had given our lives up as lost... until I learned, well, that you were here. And I thought, considering you let us in our shop and all, that you'd be willing to help us."
"Just a painting," Merlin reminded him, and Eben sighed.
"Sorry, you're right, I forgot," Eben said. "It's desperation talking, I'm afraid."
"I understand," Merlin replied. "But I cannot possibly advise the two of you without knowing what you don't know... namely, what's going on in your sister's life that she's trying to keep you out of. And the best way for me to find that out is to send her a painting with stealth expertise to conduct a danger and risk assessment. I promise you that he will understand the volatility of the situation. Of course, the choice is ultimately up to you. If you don't want me to interfere any further than this conversation, I will honor your decision."
Eben frowned, but he didn't think about it for too long.
"Yes, alright... on one condition. If this recon thing gets discovered, you let my sister know so that she can get away from there," Eben said seriously.
"If this thing blows up, I promise I will use all the resources I have available to me to get your sister out in one piece," Merlin reassured him.
"Okay," Eben said. "Just be careful, please. Our lives may very well be in your hands."
Merlin nodded solemnly at that, telling him to wait as he fetched the Rogue Painting so that they could set up alternative meeting places and contacts.
Severus got up before dawn as he always did during the week, walking into the study and glancing at the journal to make certain he didn't have an early appointment, hoping to get an hour of work in before the girls woke up for breakfast. He was just getting settled with his coffee and his paperwork when he heard the sound of the violin.
"Yes, Rogue?" Severus asked, glancing over at where the Rogue Painting stood near a curious Albus Dumbledore portrait.
"I'd like to request a leave of absence," the Rogue signed. Severus stared at him.
"I beg your pardon?" Severus asked flatly. The Sorting Hat peeked an eye open, wondering who Severus was talking to.
"I understand it is unusual for a painting to put in such a request. But as a school secretary and a working member of Jennifer's security team, I believe it is appropriate. I only ask that you leave a competent painting to replace me at your wife's side... the Minerva painting, perhaps," the Rogue suggested.
"By that, I gather that you don't want to tell her about this yourself," Severus replied.
"I am handling a particular situation that requires a great deal of discretion. I do not have the means to hide my thoughts like a someone who is not a painting. It is a delicate matter involving a personal situation involving students, which requires that I take certain precautions. In fact, it is a confidential student emergency like the kind that you yourself have handled in the past. It is the kind that Dumbledore once asked you not to inform him the details of until after the matter is solved. It is within your best interests if you and the rest of the staff are not aware that such a situation even exists," the Rogue explained.
"I understand entirely," Severus said seriously, standing up. "Is there anything you need from me, other than this release?"
"My team may be in and out of the castle as I need their assistance, so they may not always be available," the Rogue signed, and Severus nodded at that. "Also, I have put J.P. to sleep for now and have moved an Alicia security painting in her place in the nursery, but feel free to use another painting if you desire. Please do not awaken the J.P. painting until the mission is complete, else I may run into unexpected problems."
"Yes, fine, but if you have the power to put J.P. to sleep, I don't suppose you could put Dusthorn to sleep as well?" Severus asked. The Rogue smirked slightly.
"I sympathize with your position, but unfortunately, she does need to be awake, for both security reasons pertaining to the new house, and because of the research being conducted on the Sentinels and on the Sorting Hat," he explained. Severus glanced back at the Hat only to catch sight of him quickly scrunching his fabric up. Frowning suspiciously, Severus looked back at his image.
"I don't suppose you know something about that situation that I don't?" Severus asked, subtly moving his head to indicate the Sorting Hat.
"Perhaps I could offer a word of advice," the Rogue signed cautiously.
"Yes?" Severus said, the Rogue glancing over to make certain that the Sorting Hat hadn't open his eyes again.
"You were spared from the fallout caused by adding the Fifth House because you knew nothing about it until after the fact. This is likely to be another situation where it will be better if you do not know too much about what your wife and son are getting themselves into," the Rogue said.
"While I understand what you're suggesting, Rogue, if I don't know what's going on and you are going to be out of the castle for who knows how long, how exactly am I to know if they're about to get in over their heads into something they can't get themselves out of?"
"You have many other resources. I suggest you use them," the Rogue informed him, giving him an even expression. "Do I have permission to leave?"
"Permission granted," Severus agreed. "And good luck."
The Rogue cringed slightly, but then nodded and gave him a polite greeting before stepping out of the frame, Severus watching him go thoughtfully. He had almost forgotten just how much he had hated that word, Severus mused, but then shrugged it off and got back to work.