Harry Potter Phoenix and Frame

**PHOENIX AND FRAME **

The painting hung empty, she noted with a small gasp of surprise.

Amongst the portraits of the former headmasters, that most recent, gilded frame was the only one of countless others that was devoid of its occupant. Even Phineas Nigellus remained within the four walls of his frame, one eye curiously open as if waiting for further confirmation of her motives before venturing an opinion.

She felt her palms damp with sweat, her heart beating beneath the weight of her robes and the disordered array of her uniform.

Far below the castle, she heard the thud of arrows, the wail of i mer-song /i and the terrible crack of flames and then there was nothing but the distant song of some alien bird; a lamenting cry that seemed to rise in tone as the bird ascended higher into the clouds and grew closer to the stars.

"May I help you with something?" A voice asked with mischievous politeness.

She cried out in surprise and staggered backwards, her hands clutching the headmaster's desk and sending parchment and trinkets falling to the floor in a snowstorm of nostalgia.

Phineas Nigellus allowed himself a small chuckle in approval but said nothing as, widening in surprise, her eyes fell once more upon the portrait's frame.

The figure that filled the frame was not Dumbledore, she realised in horror. He was younger by several decades, his hair pale and dishevelled and his eyes of a startling blue.

Yet beneath those brilliantly blue eyes were the same half-moon spectacles Dumbledore had worn, perched, in a very headmasterly fashion, upon the edge of his nose.

He was not Dumbledore...and yet somehow he wasn't entirely unfamiliar.

"I must say I'm slightly disappointed to see you here rather than amongst the other mourners at my funeral, Miss. Chang." The man in the painting smiled calmly.

"_Y-Your _funeral?" The young girl murmured, her mind racing to come to terms with what the painting was saying. "But you're...you're not...I mean..."

The young man adjusted his spectacles, sliding them up the bridge of his nose with a finger and smiling mirthfully. 

"I'm afraid that I very much am." He beamed in return. "The details of such however are a story for another time. What matters now is that you go down into the crowds and attempt to prepare your fellow students for what is to come."

"P-Prepare the students?" She repeated incredulously.

The smile remained on the young man's clean-shaven face.

"Quite so. You'll correct me if I'm wrong, I'm sure, but at my last reckoning I believe you were still a member of," he mused, a hint of modest embarrassment creeping into his voice. "_The DA_."

Cho Chang nodded slowly but couldn't quite believe what was happening. Somehow, Dumbledore had informed the young man in the painting of the DA, somehow he knew about them and the events of the previous school year. 

"How do you know about the DA?" She asked, her voice a trembling whisper.

"Well, I'd like to suggest the answer to that is quite simple and I am indeed the rightful owner of this fine frame, at least for the time being. Of course, I fully appreciate that you might not be able to accept that for now so let us just assume that I am a _friend _of the late Professor Dumbledore.

"You may call me Doctor Smith, if that is easier for you." 

"Doctor Smith..." Cho repeated, aware of how stupid she was beginning to sound.

And yet the words spoken by Smith were so absurd and she wanted to believe them so much that she found it all but impossible for her to actually do so.

Nigellus snorted again from his own frame.

"I don't know why you waste your time, Dumbledore, I really don't. This one's no brighter than the Potter boy. I can't help but wonder if it's a current vogue of the era or if students at this once great school really are getting denser with each passing year."

"Thank you, Phineas that will be all." Smith smiled, looking up to the row of paintings above his own before turning his attention back towards Cho. "You will understand, Miss. Chang, that there are a number of matters to which I must attend to before I can fully explain the intricacies of what I'm asking you to do but please trust me when I assure you this is not a whim.

"Gather the DA, or at the very least, those you can find and tell them that I am very much here and very much aware of the situation. I shall find you all when the time comes. For now, deliver the message and tell them to take every safety measure imaginable."

She nodded; trying awkwardly not to dwell on what Harry might say when she confronted him with this information.

"Harry will understand in time." Smith answered as if reading her thought. "As will you all. Until then, I must ask you please to follow my instructions."

She nodded again, finding herself at a loss for anything else to do.

Doctor Smith's blue eyes twinkled with mischief once again.

"And then perhaps when all of this is over you might find the solution to poor Miss. Edgecombe's condition."

Cho Chang blushed and looked uncomfortable. She hadn't intended to loot Dumbledore's office but somehow, in her grief, she had found herself thinking of poor Marietta and then, before she knew it, she had passed the gargoyle and been up the winding staircase and inside the headmaster's office.

She took a deep breath and smiled falteringly.

"I'm going to trust you, Doctor Smith." She said.

"Good girl." Smith answered. "And now if you'll forgive me, I really must dash."

Without another word, the young man in the painting vanished leaving Cho Chang alone but for the gathered portraits and the empty frame before her.


End file.

Harry Potter