The Prophecy

CHAPTER ELEVEN

The card game continued for several hours; all three of them were quite competitive. It was getting more and more difficult for Viktor not to reveal that he was indeed a very good player. He enjoyed the deceit a bit too much; Hermione finally caught on. She gave him an "I know what you are up to" look and he smiled, reassuring her of her correctness.

You are cheating, Mr. Krum, she thought to herself with a smile.

Shhh, don't tell them! he heard him exclaim teasingly. Hermione almost fell off of the sofa. She could swear that she had heard him say that. But he was sitting several feet away from her, not even looking in her direction. Was she imagining things, or had she actually heard his voice in her head? No, no, she reasoned. She must be mistaken. She shook her head, as if to clear it.

Harry had finally caught on, as well. "Wait a minute!" he said, realization dawning. "You know how to play, don't you?"

"I don't know vot you are talking about," Viktor replied, trying without success to contain his laughter.

But they were all laughing now, even Ron.

"That was sneaky, Viktor. I didn't think you had it in you. Who taught you how to play poker?" Ron asked.

"My grandfather learned during his travels, and he taught me how. Sometimes I play vith my Vratsa teammates," Viktor replied, amusement still lingering in his voice. He looked at Hermione, and she felt the same sense of mischievous triumph that was conveyed by his smile take hold of her own mind. She understood immediately that she was feeling emotions that were not her own, and it unnerved her.

The boys continued to talk and laugh amongst themselves. Hermione was not inclined to join in their mirth. She was still sitting on the couch, stunned. Ginny looked at her friend with concern.

"Hermione, are you ok? You look like you've seen a ghost or something," Ginny asked, patting her hand gently.

"I'm fine. Honestly," Hermione replied quickly, doing her best to give Ginny a reassuring smile. She looked at Viktor, wondering again whether what she thought was happening could really be possible, when she heard his voice again. This time, she saw clearly that his lips were not moving. Hermione, ve need to talk in private. How do ve get out of here vithout arousing suspicion?

Viktor seemed to know what was going on, and he could explain it to her. She thought that maybe they could go to the kitchen to make some tea. He nodded imperceptibly, then addressed the room at large.

"Vould anyvon like some tea? Hermione and I vill go make some," Viktor asked.

"Sure, we could all use a break anyway. Thanks," Ginny replied.

Hermione silently followed Viktor into the kitchen. Satisfied that they were alone, Viktor looked at her and said, "I know that you must think that you are going crazy, but I promise you that you are not. You are reading my thoughts, Hermione."

"How is that possible, Viktor? Telepathy is a very complicated skill. Few wizards or witches can perform it with any level of success, and those that can do not usually use it for good things," Hermione replied. "And how is it that I've never heard your thoughts before now?"

"Ve are able to read each other's thoughts vhen ve want to, Hermione. It can be controlled. I vos able to pick up some of your thoughts back in Hogvarts, but only a few," he said, lowering his eyes to the ground.

Hermione was acutely embarrassed. Which thoughts had he "picked up on," exactly? She decided quickly that didn't really want to know.

"Do you think that this is this part of the prophecy?" she asked quietly. Viktor looked up and straight into her eyes. Oh god, how she loved the way he gazed into her eyes! She could get lost in his eyes and never want to come back again.

"Yes, I believe so. I think that it vill be a progression, though I do not know vot else ve vill experience vhen our feelings become...stronger."

Hermione was flustered. Not wanting to make things more uncomfortable for the time being, she waved her wand; a teakettle and a stack of cups appeared on a tray before her. Viktor took it and carried it out to the other room in silence. Hermione stood against the kitchen counter, thinking.

Is this what she truly needed right now? Viktor, as sweet and wonderful as he was, was a distraction. She should be focusing all of her energy and efforts on finding her parents, not on figuring out her love life. Once again she felt guilt gnaw at her stomach. She walked back into the room, intent on excusing herself for the night.

"I'm a bit tired." She faked a yawn. "If you all don't mind, I'm going to go to bed." And without waiting for a reply, she turned on her heel and made her way to her and Ginny's shared bedroom.

"I'm going to go to bed, too. You boys have fun!" Ginny leaped to her feet and ran up the stairs. The sound of her pounding footsteps echoed throughout the enormous house.

Harry and Ron looked at each other questioningly, a bit confused as to the reason for their abrupt departure. Viktor was certain that it had something to do with him, though it was entirely plausible that she truly was tired and needed to rest. She has been through a lot. Sleep was the best thing she could do to clear her mind, he decided.

"Another game?" he asked, holding up the deck of cards.

***

Ginny found Hermione lying facedown on the bed and crying softly.

"Sweetie, what's the matter?" she asked, sitting down beside her friend and stroking her hair.

"Ginny, everything that's happened over the past couple of days has left me exhausted, both physically and emotionally. I don't know how much more I can handle," she replied truthfully, sobs catching in her throat.

Ginny gave her an awkward hug. What else could she do? What kind of advice do you give someone whose entire life has suddenly been turned completely upside-down? The best Ginny could offer was comfort and kind words.

The next day would bring even more troubling news.

"Girls, wake up!" Mrs. Weasley's voice rang throughout the room. Hermione's eyes snapped open, and she practically jumped out of bed in surprise.

"Mom, it's like...not even morning yet," Ginny responded blearily. She rolled over and threw the covers over her head.

"What's the matter, Mrs. Weasley? Did something happen?" Hermione rubbed the last vestiges of sleep from her eyes and tried to focus on the plump figure standing in their doorway.

"Get dressed and get downstairs; it's nearly ten o'clock," Mrs. Weasley responded as she spun on her heel and out the door.

Hermione and Ginny got dressed and ran down to the kitchen. They both stopped in their tracks at the entryway, the boys right behind them. None of them knew what the fuss was about, but they would soon find out.

The kitchen at Grimwaulds place was rowdy this morning. They recognized some familiar faces; most of the members of the Order were present.

Dumbledore stood by the window, speaking quietly to Viktor. Hermione, desperate to know what was going on, attempted to focus her newfound ability to channel thoughts to Viktor.

Please tell me what is going on. Hermione tried to think the same thing over and over again, hoping that somehow it would work and Viktor would respond. However, her attempts at telepathy seemed to be failing miserably; he didn't even seem to realize that she was in the room. She became more and more irritated and angry with herself.

Her musings were interrupted by Mr. Weasley, whose thick figure suddenly blocked her view of the room. "We didn't want you all to walk into the meeting uninvited, so here is what will be happening this morning," he said in a tone that allowed for no argument. "While we are in the meeting, you all will have a job to do. Molly will assign you all something so we can be left in peace." He looked mildly amused at disappointed faces of his children.

"It's Sunday! Can't we have one day off? We're not bloody house elves, you know," Fred replied mutinously.

"Yeah Dad, why can't we at least sleep in?" George added.

"Settle down! This is an important meeting. A high-level Ministry official will be joining us shortly, and we need to discuss a few matters without interruptions. And since we cannot send you outside, you might as well make yourselves useful."

"Hermione dear, Viktor will be joining the meeting, of course; and you should be here as well," Mrs. Weasley said, though Hermione could tell by her tone of voice that she was not at all pleased about the decision.

She was relieved nonetheless, though the rest of the brood was expressing their objections loudly. Mrs. Weasley literally shoved them out of the kitchen and into the hall, closing the door behind her loudly.

Her expression changed quickly from displeasure to frightening motherly scowl. The mutterings ended abruptly.

"Now you listen, and listen good, all of you! Hermione needs to be present for this meeting. It's about her parents, and I cannot believe how insensitive you're all being! Now get to the attic and start sorting through the boxes up there. I conjured some sandwiches and tea as your breakfast. As soon as we're done here I will come and get you. Now shoo! Off you go! I don't want to hear a peep from any of you until the meeting is over. Have I made myself perfectly clear?" she finished, looking at each face in turn. Silence reigned.

"Alright, let's go," Ginny finally said. Heads hanging in defeat, they all followed her up to the attic murmuring their disapproval.

Mrs. Weasley didn't hear any of it, as she had already flung open the door and reentered the kitchen, focused entirely on attending her guests.

Hermione sat hesitantly at the edge of the wooden bench by the kitchen table, looking around curiously at the wizened figures surrounding her. All were deep in discussion with one another, not really seeming to take notice of her presence. Or perhaps they were ignoring her so that she would not ask questions. She mused that the latter was probably the more likely scenario. She looked over at Viktor and Dumbledore, and was pleased to see that their conversation seemed to be coming to an end.

Viktor shook hands with Dumbledore, then came and sat down next to her, which confirmed her suspicion that he had known that she was there all along. Dumbledore smiled at Hermione she smiled back, turning her gaze to Viktor.

"Good morning, Hermione. Did you sleep vell?" he asked politely, taking in the pallor of her skin and the shadows under her eyes. She looked so fragile that he wanted to take her into his arms and kiss all of her worries away. However, he knew that it would accomplish nothing except making them both feel even more uncomfortable, what with all the strangers milling around, studying their every move with practiced indifference. He settled for patting her hand gently.

"What would it have taken for you to notice that I was in the room for 20 minutes?" she hissed angrily. Seeing the hurt look on his face, she felt a little bit guilty. She knew Viktor did not deserve such harsh words, but her irritation with everyone and everything was steadily mounting, and her day had just begun.

"I am very sorry, Hermione. I vos discussing some important issues with Professor Dumbledore. He is a vizard that deserves my full attention." He broke off, knowing that no matter what he said, he wouldn't win with her this morning. He took a deep breath and prepared himself to do battle with his surly love.

"And I think you're completely wrong about this mind reading thing," she continued agitatedly. "I concentrated so hard trying to send you a thought that I might've burned a hole in you head, and it still didn't work."

"Oh, Hermione. You are too, how you say...impatient. You need practice. You think that I became a Quidditch star overnight?" She gave him a reluctant smile, which he returned. He had put her at ease, for now at least.

Finally, Dumbledore addressed them. The room fell silent.

"Now that we are all present and accounted for, let us begin. We have a new member of the Order with us today. I trust that you will give him your full attention." Dumbledore sat down and gestured to the tall, thin wizard sitting next to him. Round spectacles were perched on his long nose, his hair was greased back, and he was wearing deep purple ropes and a multicolored tie.

Hermione looked at him curiously, trying to think of whether or not she had seen him before. He spoke with an interesting accent, reminiscent of Seamus Finnigan's.

"'Ello everyone. My name is Aden Goodpasture, and I am from the Ministry, from the Department of Mysterious Disappearances," he said rather loudly, looking around the table with a rather bored expression on his face. His gaze lingered on Hermione for a moment before moving on.

"Arthur has asked me to join this meeting. I believe I have made some discoveries that will assist in the search of certain missing muggles."

The vein on Hermione's temple throbbed with anger. Ministry official or not, this stranger had no right to refer to her parents like pieces of meat. She knew it would be rude to interrupt, but she couldn't stop herself.

"They have names, you know!" she said with a scowl. Viktor squeezed her hand under the table.

The wizard had the good grace to look embarrassed, and looking at Hermione curiously, he spoke once again.

"I apologize. To help in the search of Mr. and Mrs. Granger," he corrected, looking at her for approval. She gave him a curt nod. She certainly did have some nerve, he mused. He shook his head and turned to Dumbledore, who spoke again.

"Let's review the facts. We know from our sources that Ms. Granger's parents are in Romania. The latest evidence, the bracelet and glasses, indicate that they are still alive." Dumbledore looked at Hermione out of the corner of his eye, a pale and defiant figure. He had been wary to allow her to participate in this meeting, but he had obliged Viktor's pleading to include her, to make her aware of the situation and prove to her that they were all trying very hard to accomplish their goal.

Hermione held her head up. She was used to putting on a face. A brave face, a stubborn face. Inside, she felt raw. All of her emotions were bubbling inside her, threatening to boil over. She kept repeating in her head, Be strong, Hermione! Don't cry in front of them, you are not weak!

She heard a familiar whisper. I am here, Hermione. Just hold my hand. Ve vill get through this, I promise. She shot Viktor a surprised look. Had he just read her mind again? His lips were not moving, yet she heard more soothing words in her head. You are so beautiful vhen you glare at me like that. She smiled and gave his hand a grateful squeeze. She resolved to learn how to master this newfound ability; his skills were truly amazing.

The meeting continued, oblivious to the silent communication between them.

"All of you were briefly told about the reason we suspect Hermione's parent were taken..." Dumbledore continued. He glanced at Viktor and Hermione, and Viktor nodded his head. Hermione didn't understand their silent gestures, but felt the same sense of dread that she had when Dumbledore had told the Weasleys about the prophecy. The thought that this group of complete strangers knew something so intimate about her, something so personal and close to her heart, made her feel sick. She clenched Viktor's hand.

Dumbledore spoke again.

"I think that we can all agree that due to recent magical affairs, Hermione and Viktor are very valuable to Voldermort. The Dark Lord no longer needs only Harry Potter. He is becoming greedier, and more paranoid. He wants to stop the prophecy from developing into its full form at all costs. But he is not trying to do it in a simple manner. Instead, he is trying to hurt as many people as possible in the process; he is making his cruel intentions known to show that he has the ultimate power." He paused, an indecipherable look on his face.

"Most of you are not entirely aware of how powerful this old magick really is. Some of you may have read about it in forbidden prophecy books, though few copies still exist. There aren't many witches or wizards alive today who could have predicted it. Viktor, your great grandmother is one of the very few in the world who can." Dumbledore paused again to take a sip of the tea that Molly had prepared for him.

Hermione took the opportunity to ask a question. It was now or never.

"Er...Professor? If I may...?" Without waiting for an answer, she continued.

"With all due respect, I don't think I completely understand the power of this prophecy. Wouldn't it take years to develop? I mean, I'm only..." Fifteen, she thought to herself. She didn't need to complete sentence out loud: the incredulity on the faces of the witches and wizards assembled said it for her. She glanced at Viktor, who was looking everywhere except at her. They were both so young. She had never asked Ada if she knew how long it would take for the prophecy to fully develop; she suddenly wished that she had.

Dumbledore looked at Hermione warmly. Such a clever mind.

"An excellent question, Ms. Granger. I have spoken to Ada extensively about the prophecy. It is fascinating, to say the least. Such things only happen once in hundreds of years. This is a first one in my lifetime, and I have been around for a long time." He smiled as he stroked his long gray beard. Hushed chuckles were now heard throughout the previously silent kitchen.

Dumbledore continued.

"Ada has shared with me that once both of you let go of fear and restrictions and open up your hearts to one another...which it seems did not take very long..." Hermione could feel her cheeks flush red, and Viktor was trying to avoid everyone's eyes by staring at the tabletop. "...the prophecy will begin to fulfill itself almost immediately. I am assuming that you have already discovered some of the benefits."

Hermione looked at him curiously, very interested as to what he was referring to.

"Professor, what do you mean by 'benefits?'" she asked innocently, thinking that it was better not to let anyone know that they had attempted to use telepathy.

"Well, Ms. Granger, I believe that the first was your attraction to one another. But I have a feeling that that may not have been part of any spell or prophecy." Once again, chuckles could be heard around the kitchen. Hermione dared to look at some of the faces, her gaze stopping at Mrs. Weasley, who looked like she had just swallowed something sour.

"Albus, stop embarrassing them and just get on with it already!" Mrs. Weasley barked, obviously irritated. Hermione shot her a thankful look.

"You are of course correct, Molly. I just thought it prudent to mention that I see more then my students think that I do. You yourself know that the portraits relate to me more than I ought to know sometimes," he said with a wide smile. Molly blushed crimson and shot a covert look at her husband, who was also flushed with embarrassment. Satisfied that there would be no further interruptions, he continued.

"Where was I? Ah yes, the attraction was there with or without the prophecy, we cannot tell for sure. With that came the feeling of constantly wanting to be in the other's presence, though that could also be attributed to...biological reasons." The last trace of teasing had now left his voice. "But the next sign that the prophecy is fulfilling itself would be the power to read one another's minds. I assume that this has already occurred?"

Hermione said nothing, but shot him a look that confirmed his suspicions.

"After that will come the ability to perform certain spells and charms that require both of your powers. These will have to be practiced, because they could be quite dangerous to you and those around you. We will discuss such things after the meeting. The culmination of the prophecy, of course, will be the ability to perform the protection spell."

Hermione looked at Viktor, wondering if he knew what Dumbledore was talking about. His expression was unreadable.

Dumbledore spoke again.

"The protection spell is one of the most powerful magical abilities that you can develop.

I have read that when performed properly, the two involved are protected from all other spells, including the Unforgivable curses." The entire room erupted, everyone struggling to be heard over one another.

"Settle down, please, and let me explain more clearly." The room fell silent once again, but there was an underlying tension to the silence. "I have never seen this performed, nor do I know how it is done, so this is entirely in Viktor and Hermione's hands. They will learn how to do the spell with time. How long, no one really knows. This is why we need to research, and help them develop this ability. This will help us not only in the rescue of Hermione's parents, but in other endeavors as well. For you see, once the spell is performed, they can pass the protection onto others. However, this is very dangerous, and if performed incorrectly, can be fatal."

Everyone was speaking around them again. Hermione felt dizzy and slightly sick to her stomach. She could hear the voices swirling around her, but individual voices were muffled. She excused herself abruptly; she knew that she was going to be sick and didn't want to do it in front of everyone. She allowed the thought to flit through her mind briefly and hoped Viktor would understand and make the excuse for her. She quickly stood up and strode to the nearby bathroom.

A jumble of foreign images and feelings ran through his head, and Viktor realized what was happening. He spoke to the room at large, which had suddenly gotten quiet.

"She didn't feel well. She will be fine," he reassured them. Mrs. Weasley stood up and followed Hermione to the bathroom. Viktor didn't dare to move, although he wanted to with every fiber of his being.

"Hermione dear, are you alright?" Mrs. Weasley asked as she knocked on the door. Hermione's mind boggled at the absurdity of the question. Of course she wasn't all right! She felt positively ill. She sat on the cold tile floor, tears streaming down her face. All the information thrown at her at once had overwhelmed her. She really wanted to tell Mrs. Weasley to go away and leave her alone. Why couldn't everyone just leave her be for one moment? Why were they always hovering over her, crushing her under the weight of their concern? She let out a silent scream as another soft knock interrupted her musings. She did not need a motherly presence right now. She needed a moment to herself. She took a deep breath.

"I'll be out in a moment, Mrs. Weasley. I think it's my stomach..." She wasn't lying; it was her stomach that was currently tied in knots, and her pounding head was not helping. She felt like vomiting. She waited for the feeling to recede before slowly standing and opening the door of the bathroom. Mrs. Weasley was still in the hallway, now looking at her with a worried expression.

She touched Hermione's forehead with her round small hand, like she was checking for a fever. "Are you sure, dear? Maybe this wasn't a good idea. Maybe you should spend some time with Ginny and the boys, we can wrap up the meeting..."

"It's all right, I'm better now. I don't know what came over me, honestly." Hermione returned to the kitchen, followed by Mrs. Weasley. All the eyes turned to her, and she felt her cheeks become even redder, if that was possible.

"Is everything all right, Hermione?" Viktor asked, holding out his hand and guiding her back to her seat.

"Yes, I'm fine. I apologize for my rude interruption. Please continue, Professor." She sat down and regarded her headmaster calmly, though Viktor could tell that she was still uneasy.

"That is quite all right, Ms. Granger. Now, where was I...?"

"The protection spell, Albus," Mr. Weasley encouraged. Everyone sat up a little straighter. They were all anxious to hear more about it.

"I'm afraid that that is all I know thus far. I need another scripture, which has proven difficult to find, but I am working on it," Dumbledore explained. "Mr. Goodpasture has a few more ideas that he would like to bring to the table, so please hear him out." The collective interest subsided, and they all regarded Mr. Goodpasture with varying degrees of boredom.

"Thank you, Albus. All right. As you know, the Ministry is not doing as much as they should in this matter." He ignored the derisive snorts that this observation garnered. "Arthur and I have spoken extensively about this, and with our limited resources at the office we need your help to get the information that we require. Now Viktor, this is where we will need your help the most, I think. You can speak Russian, and in many parts of Romania the Russian language is still used widely. We need to find a man named Dimitri Cyganov. He apparently lives near the town that Hermione's parents are being held in. You are all probably wondering how we know this." He paused for dramatic effect, but no one seemed to be paying attention. "Well, the Ministry did receive some information; they just haven't shared it with us. But being in the Department of Mysterious Disappearances, I was able to get a hold of the transcripts and letters. Now, this man is a wizard, but he is very frightened that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named already knows about him, and is thus in hiding."

Viktor interrupted, "How can I be of assistance other than my language skills? I don't believe that I can simply walk into a town in wizarding Europe and not be recognized."

"I agree, Viktor. We are in the middle of negotiating with Mr. Cyganov to meet us at a mutually convenient location, at which point you would serve as the translator. We do not want to scare him away. He is asking for protection, if he decides to help us."

"Why can't be apparate here?" Hermione asked shyly.

"We don't really want him to know about this location, just in case he is being watched by the other side," Mr. Goodpasture replied. She felt a little bit foolish, and did not comment further.

"So when are we going to know if this Mr. Cyganov will meet us? Time is precious to us right now," Mr. Weasley stated matter-of-factly.

"I am awaiting an owl from a friend who lives in a nearby village. He is the Auror that originally gave me the information that Hermione's parents were in Romania," Dumbledore answered as he stood up and paced around the kitchen. They all followed his movements with their eyes.

"How about we take a break, to stretch our legs?" Molly suggested. There was a murmur of consensus, and the sound of scraping chairs echoed throughout the kitchen. Molly walked over to the bench where Viktor and Hermione were sitting and gently placed her hand on Hermione's shoulder.

"Maybe you two would like to be alone? Or at least go and see what Ginny and the boys are doing?" she suggested.

Hermione nodded. She was glad for any excuse to leave the kitchen, which was positively claustrophobic with tension. If she could escape for just a moment, maybe she could breathe easier. Her stomach was still in knots and she felt weak. Viktor, intuitive as always, seemed to sense it.

"Hermione, are you sure that you feel alright? You look pale," he asked, his voice full of concern. Not for the first time, he wondered whether it had been a good idea to fight for her right to sit in on this meeting. She didn't seem to be faring so well.

"I'm fine," she insisted. She didn't want Viktor treating her like she was made of spun glass. "Maybe Molly is right, I think I do need to get out of here. Let's go see what everyone else is up to." And without looking at the curious stares that their hasty departure generated, both of them exited the kitchen...

...and walked smack into George. Or was it Fred? One of the twins was picking up what looked like a rubber ear on a long string. Hermione deduced that it was probably an eavesdropping device that they had invented.

"Um, hello. Er...you two haven't seen anything," George said as he spun around and apparated back upstairs. Hermione shook her head. Fred shot the kitchen door a final wary look, as if expecting the figure of his mother to burst through it at any second, then likewise apparated back to the attic. She had been too distressed to question anything the twins were up to these days, but she decided that it might be best to ask them about what exactly they had heard.

Viktor followed her quietly to the living room.

Hermione walked to the window and lifted the heavy drapes to peek outside. She could see rain beating against the glass, which was making it difficult for her to see anything else that may have been visible beyond it. She thought that the windows must be enchanted. They had to be; even through heavy rain she should have been able to see something. The feeling of claustrophobia intensified.

Viktor stood a few steps away, leaning against the edge of the sofa, his arms crossed over his chest. He traced the line of her profile with his eyes, noting that there were lines of fatigue around her mouth that hadn't been there at the end of the school year. He was about to suggest that they return to the meeting, when his peripheral vision caught a sudden movement.

His eyes flickered to the portraits on the wall opposite the window. All but one of them were preening, waving at him, or snoring loudly. His gaze was drawn to the single exception. There was something eerily familiar about that face; he could swear that he has seen the witch somewhere, put he couldn't remember where. She stared right back at him, her expression clearly mocking. A smirk crossed her face, and she raised her eyebrows and laughingly pointed at him. Suddenly, Viktor realized where he had last seen her:

Karkaroff's office.

But what would she be doing here, in this place? Suddenly, before he could do or say anything, the woman disappeared. He leaped across the room in an instant, his fingers curling around the edge of the frame, trying to lift it off the wall. Hermione, finally shaken from her reverie, was now watching Viktor's odd behavior with a look of bemusement.

"Viktor, what are you doing to that painting?" she asked, almost wanting to laugh at how comical he looked, wrestling with a painting.

"I know that vitch. I have seen her somevhere else," Viktor said, finally ceasing his fruitless struggle; there must have been a permanent sticking charm on it. He glared at the empty background as if he could intimidate an answer out of it with the force of his stare.

"I don't understand. Where did you see her?" Hermione was now giving him her full attention. She stood by the wall and looked at the empty frame.

"This voman, I saw her in Karkaroff's office," he replied.

"Viktor, you must be mistaken. Maybe she just looks familiar..."

"Hermione, do not doubt my memory. I haff very good memory. I can recall many details of places that I don't care to remember, especially my headmaster's office," he replied dryly.

"If you're certain that it's the same picture, then we've got to tell the Order, or at least Dumbledore. I can't imagine what she might have overheard..." Hermione stopped herself.

"I'll be right back," she said quickly. She left Viktor standing next to the empty frame, lost in thought. Very soon, loud footsteps were heard outside of the room, and Dumbledore swept in with the air of a man ready to do battle. He stopped in front of Viktor.

"What is the meaning of this, Viktor? Hermione told me that you have seen the witch in this painting in Igor's office? How can you tell exactly?"

Viktor wrenched his eyes from the painting for a moment and looked at Dumbledore with an expression of dark humor.

"The reason that I am so sure is that this vitch had the same ghastly pendant around her neck, an emerald stone wrapped in a silver snake. I vould recognize that necklace anywhere," he said.

"Viktor, I assure you that this witch has not left the house. I put the protective spells and enchantments in place myself so that no one, including house elves and portrait occupants, would be able to leave freely. She must be in another portrait. We must search the house immediately. Let us see what secrets this interesting lady holds. Or has overheard, for that matter."

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