Jerrod walked the corridors then he glanced at a portrait and walked past it.
Wait.. What was it wearing..? He backed a little and looked at the old man who was wearing an orange robe and was looking into a crystal ball.

"H-Hello, Hello? Excuse me?" Jerrod said to a potrait of an old man.
"What? oh, 'ello there son. What can I help you with?" The potrait replied
Jerrod stood and observed the portrait.
"Was there anything I could do for you?" It said.
"How is it like living in a painting?" Jerrod curiously asked.
"Well.. I don't literally live in here so.. I am not really able to answer your question?"
"Hm.. Fair enough.. What did you do before you became a potrait?"

"Oh me? .. Well.. .. If ye really want to here I guess.. It is a quite boring story according to me.. But.. Well.."

I was born in.. Hm.. What was it.. 1812 or 1813.. Doesn't matter really but yeah. I was born by a witch and a muggle. Which was quite rare at that time. I mean me being an half-blood.

Ehm.. I boarded Hogwarts when I was 11 and I discovered in my third year that I had a talent for the great art of divination. I had a extremely powerful so called, Inner Eye. I could predict loads of things. My big talents where Crystal-gazing and Fire-omens and also.. The Astrology part which is my greatest talent and favourite of the great art of divination.

Hm.. One night I choosed to stay out a little later then the others. I sat and watched the stars and the planet movements a little bit inside the forbidden forest. I then decided to go back in and go to bed. But then.. I discovered a movement that looked very disturbing! I was so worried about it that I didn't find the way out. It was so dark. I tried 'Lumos' but it didn't help. As I walked further and further into the forest the darker it became. It almost felt like if my lumosspell didn't work. Then.. I saw a new star movement I hadn't seen before. I stopped and observed it. Just couldn't take my eyes of it. Then I heard a voice.
'Isn't it just mysterious.. Have you ever seen anything like it?' The voice said. 'No.. Never.' I said. Then I realised that I was talking. I looked down and there it stood. A centaur. He looked at me. Realising I wasn't a centaur. At first I wanted to run, but he seemed friendly. We started to talk about the star movements we just had observed. We became very good friends and decided to meet out in the forest some times every month. Together we predicted some of the most great but also terrible things in the wizarding world.

We met many times over the remaining years at Hogwarts and when it finally was time to say goodbye forever, I decided to study the great art of Astrology divination in the presence of Centaurs. I became known, as the Human Centaur. Then when I was done I choosed to take the job as Divinations professor and Hogwarts and well.. I taught and taught and taught and then.. On my 103rd birthday.. I died.. They decided to make a painting of me and.. Well.. Here I am.

"Fascinating." Jerrod said.
"Ehm.. Thank you, I guess." The portrait said.
"Well.. Thanks, I better leave you to your gazeing!" Jerrod said.
"Oh, it was a pleasure to talk to you." It said.
"Thanks, you too, bye." Jerrod said and happily and literally skipped away.
"Bye" The portrait said but Jerrod didn't hear it.

Well.. no.

Carter didn't have to find her. He was more than welcome to forget about the whole thing and go back to his Common Room. Destiny would actually like it if that was what he did do. She would be able to keep his badge then.

Running up the steps, surprised at herself for being able to take them two at a time, she reached the first floor and her eyes immediately began their search of somewhere to hide. Why was it, when she needed a hiding spot, she could never find one? And she didn't think it was going to take Carter long before reaching the first floor, so she needed a place to hide right at that moment.

It was then that she heard THEM and for some unknown reason, she found herself sprinting down the corridor full of portraits. And those portraits did not look pleased to see her.

Oh well.

Ignoring their protests, Destiny pushed herself against one of the wall sized portraits and.. struck a pose. Just your average portrait.

Carter followed her taking the steps two at a time. He was nearly caught up to her when she turned down the corridor full of portraits. What was she doing down there? ...It was a corridor full of portraits... not a corridor full of hiding places...

What was she going to do? Pretend to be a portrait?

He slowed his pace and watched from a distance.

.........

"I wonder where Destiny is...?" he said out loud in a thoughtful tone. "And I wonder if she knows that all the portraits in here move...?"

Because Destiny was standing very still against a portrait of a girl that he was pretty sure was attempting to kick her head. He was wondering if hearing him say that if she'll start moving and acting like a portrait.

If she did it would be worth not having his badge for another five minutes.

And.. she had picked the worst place ever to hide. Not only were all the portraits looking at her, the one she was leaning up against.. the girl in it was trying to kick her! Right in the head! Destiny kept glancing at her through the corner of her eye, trying to give her her best 'If you don't stop trying to kick me, I'm going to set you ablaze' look.

Evelyn would have been proud if she had known her thoughts.

But, the girl in the portrait didn't stop. Instead, she decided to yell quite a few bad words, only causing Destiny to move out of her pose and clap her hands over her ears. Her mother told her that if she listened to those words, her ears would fall off. And she kind of needed them.

She couldn't help but hear the sound of Carter's voice, though, it was so loud and obnoxious, and.. she was a horrible portrait! She was in a corridor full of moving pictures, she needed to MOVE! And that was what she was going to do.

Removing her hands from her ears, she began bending down, pretending to pick a few flowers. She didn't even care that there were absolutely no flowers in the portrait to pick.. it got the girl she was standing in front to stop trying to kick her.

Carter watched as Destiny leaned over to... *blink blink* pick something up? She did realize that she wouldn't be able to actually touch anything in the painting... right?

And more importantly... she did realize there actually nothing in the painting that she could even pretend to pick up... right?

Nope. Because there she went... pretending to pick up non-existent things.

Carter looked at the portrait that had stopped kicking Destiny. "I think she's lost her mind..." he told the portrait girl.

Anddddd... Carter might not be too far behind. He was talking to the head-kicking, choice-word-using portrait!girl.

Destiny's hiding spots were HORRIBLE!

She was never going to get rid of Carter, and as she bent down to pick up a few more flowers, she wondered why she hadn't run to the dungeons. The same dungeons where her Common Room was located. And if there was one place that he could not get into, it was there. She really didn't think sometimes.

If he found her this time, that's where she was going to go. She'd run to Lafay! She didn't know what she would tell the woman, but Destiny was an excellent story teller. She'd think of something.

Bending over a few more times, she glanced up as Carter started to speak to the girl who had been kicking her moments again. Apparently he found her. She heaved a sigh before standing up fully, and throwing those imaginary flowers right in his face, she took off running down the corridor. "I'd have to find a mind before I can lose it!"

And she didn't realize she had just insulted herself.

Did... Did Destiny just throw something at him?

Carter was offended. (Even though it wasn't real.) He stood there blankly for a second while she took off running.

o_O

What did she just say?

...

Destiny Shepard just admitted to having no mind!

And Carter was there to witness it. He burst out laughing and took nearly a whole minute to regain himself. He took off down the hall that he saw Destiny take off down a minute ago. He just hoped that she was out of breath from all the "picking up" she did.

Or hiding in another portrait. That would work too.

Ryan was walking up the stairs when a portrait said ''Hello to him''.''Hello'' Ryan said back.''May I ask you a question,How did you end up in a portrait'' ''Well I don't know It's Hogwarts'' said the portrait. Thanks said Ryan walking off happily

...right.

This area looked good and deserted, which was just the sort of area Sierra was looking for. With her wand in one hand and a bag stuffed with textbooks and notes in the other, she came to a stop next to a set of portraits. She had to find a place to practice the spells she'd learned in Transfiguration, and since the spells were sort of...well, embarrassing, she really didn't want to do them in front of anyone.

She put her bag down on the floor beside her and raised her wand to her head. Merlin, she hated doing this! "Ris-TAR-is!" she said, tapping the wand once on top of her head. She pictured a green, curly wig. If she was going to do this, then it was at least going to be in Slytherin colors. She reached into her bag and pulled out a mirror. "Ugh," she complained, looking into it. It had worked, but she looked idiotic. She tapped her wand twice on the top of her head and said, "Intaris!" This time, she pictured her normal, sane appearance, and when she looked in the mirror again, that's just what she had. She stuffed the mirror back into her bag and slung her bag over her shoulder. With one last look around, she headed out the area.

Jez stared up at the portraits, trying to find that one ... Keegan had said it was here somewhere ...
There he was! Jez waved at one of the portraits. "Hello! Excuse me!" Darn, the old codger was asleep. Jez knocked pointedly on the wall. "Wake up!"
"Excuse me, young miss," said another portrait stiffly. This was of an elderly woman sitting in an armchair surrounded by knitted animals, and knitting an enormously long scarf. "Can I alert your presence to anybody?"
"Yes, please," said Jez irritably. "Jolon Black. He's the one a few frames to your right, and up one."
"Humph." The elderly lady produced a wand and flicked it at a knitted dog at her feet. It sprang to life immediately and dashed through the other portraits, yapping furiously. The occupants mostly yelled after it, until it came to the portrait Jez was looking for. There, it promptly cocked its leg.
"Argh!" The old man who had been snoozing in an armchair there jerked awake, and swatted at the dog with his cane. "Get away, foul beast! Some of us are trying to sleep!"
The elderly lady smiled at Jez. "Good luck, young lady."
"Thank you," said Jez. The elderly lady winked at her, and then whistled to the knitted dog, who came running back to her and curled up at her feet again.
"Who commissioned that horrid animal to wake me from my slumber?" asked the old man grumpily.
"Me," answered Jez, walking over so she stood in front of him.
"And why," said the old man icily, "did you find it prudent to wake me? Do you know who I am, girl?"
"Yes. You're Jolon Black, an 18th century wizard noted for your work in Healing, and developing spells and potions for such work. I'm Jezabel Black, your great-great-times-a-hundred-greats-grandaughter."
"You're one of my kin, eh?" Jolon ran his eyes over Jez's face. "Ah yes, you look like a Black. In Slytherin, I suppose?"
"No," admitted Jez, blushing slightly. "Ravenclaw."
"Good show, Miss Jezabel!" roared Jolon, chortling. "I was in the glorious Hogwarts house of Ravenclaw in my day. A mark of intelligence, and don't forget it, whatever your family says." He winked at Jez, as though he knew exactly what her parents had been grinding her about. "Let me guess; you were just passing by and wondered whether I was on this wall?"
"Yes. My older brother Keegan told me you were here."
"Keegan Black?" Jolon furrowed his brow in concentration. "Yes yes, I remember him. Came to find me for assistance with his Charms homework, of all things." Jolon sniffed, as though he didn't appreciate being used as a library service. "So, you're his little sister, eh? How are the rest of your family?"
"Good, I suppose. I don't really write to them. My little brother Than is in St Mungo's, though. Keegan won't tell me what's wrong with him." Jez felt tears prick the edges of her eyes. "I'm really worried about him."
"Hmm." Jolon studied Jez's face. "I have another portrait in St Mungo's. Would you like me to have a look and learn if your younger brother is in good health?"
"Yes, please." Jez smiled at him. "Thank you so much."
Jolon smiled - a smile that made the corners of his eyes crinkle, and his wrinkles become more defined. "Of course, dear girl. I'll be off at once. Please come back soon - I'll send news of my discovering any information with another portrait." With that, Jolon walked out of the right side of his portrait, and vanished from sight.

Since the mirror stuff had turned out to be much of a disaster, and he'd rather not have a redhead trying to talk him into become a redhead as well, he decided that the best judges for this would be, yes, you guessed it, the PORTRAITS.

Treyen had spent a great amount of time trying to think about what would be the best way to 'style' his hair...until one of the portraits mentioned something that...er, how was he supposed to straighten his hair? His hair was short, for starter...so...

...but he could also alter his length juuuust a tiny bit. Like having the same length he did during his first couple of years...

...Interesting.

Once that was settled, all he needed to do was focus. And so he did, very much. The portraits, or most of them, had even grown quiet just to see what the outcome would be. And how much of a disaster it could turn out to be.

His wand was ready, all he had to do was, "Fel-in-tas," he whispered, as he tapped his head once, and...his eyes were open.

AND...he didn't have a mirror, so he didn't know how he looked, but as he touched his precious hair...the texture had changed, and it seemed longer, a bit longer than Dallin's had been...and after one 'You don't look like you', he decided to change it back. A simple 'Intaris' with TWO taps on his head would do, right? Right.

After the snowman building competition on the grounds Edvard headed inside to change clothes and get something warm into his belly. The competition had had a very pompus and arrogant man as a guest. To himself he mumbled "Who's not so great idea had it been to invite Minister Borr to judge?" Edvard didn't expect an answer, but got one from a portrait he passed as he came into the first floor. 'It was the Headmaster who invited him, son just like he was supposed to.' croaked a woman.

Edvard stopped to eye up the portrait of an old woman with glasses, a hideous flowery jumper complete with a handbag with painted ducks on it. "I'm not your son and the minister almost ruined the event for the kids." he said hotly as he moved on down the floor. To smash a snowman which a child had worked very hard on, was just not right!

Talking portraits?!

Why had Marilyn never been down here? Obviously it was the place to be. If you needed someone to talk to, surely one of the paintings could lend an ear...

Walking further down the row of canvas, the blonde smirked.

Shockingly white blonde hair...

Very Malfoy-like...

"Hmm...Do I know you?"

Rousing the sleeping painting, the woman cast a haughty gray eye in her direction. I'm in no mood to speak to you at this moment.

O.o "..."

Moving on...

Jonathan came up to the first floor for the first time. Surprisingly he hasn't been up here EVER. He didn't like roaming around the castle though especially during winter times. He'd rather sleep in the dorm or maybe go out for some cold fresh air. He was quite amazed that their are a lot of portraits here. He hasn't really talked to them, not even once. Some students say they're quite arrogant but oh well.

He was walking and spotted a familiar blonde in site. "Marilyn" he called out. It's been awhile. The last time he saw her was last year. Was it at the dance or --- Jonathan forgot when and where but it has been awhile since he last talked to the seventh year.

"What's up?" tapping her shoulder once.

Marilyn was inspecting a peculiar painting of a man in a night dress when someone called to her down the corridor. Turning, she spied Jonathan.

O.O

The biggest smile to date took form on her face, causing the Slytherin girl to begin laughing a . "Where have you been? I haven't seen you in the longest time..." Sher reached up to hug him, usually not one for hugs...but this was Jonathan. Exceptions could be made.

"I'm lurking...around rude paintings, it seems...And you? How are you spending your days?"

Where has he been? Was he been that busy over the term? Jonathan smiled as he was shocked to receive a hug from Marilyn. Yes, a hug. He thought Slytherins only receives hugs and not give one. Funny stereotype. hehe.

Jonathan looked at the portraits "Well, I'm not busy BUT it seems like we don't cross paths." which would explain why they both haven't seen each other in the longest time.

HIM? "Checking out every corridor in the castle" very much weird but he did come up here for the first time and was entirely liking the portraits section even if they are, as she says it, rude. Jonathan smiled "Lurking..." he repeated in a low voice. Well, he found it funny. Or, Jonathan just finds everything funny nowadays.

"I believe the last place I seen you was down at the Snowman Competition...but you disappear on me..." Marilyn was eying him curiously. She'd looked everywhere...Well, okay...Not everywhere. That awful Berty Borr had came through and she'd gotten distracted.

Gah, what an AWFUL man.

"It seems I lurk a lot these days." Since that business with...that girl. Marilyn had really began questioning herself. Self-doubt was a NASTY feeling..."I had a bad experience with a Ravenclaw...Meh, I haven't been the same since. How's your pursuit of that girl going?"

Oh yeah. Jonathan clasped his hands. He did remember that one. "I know I disappeared." he replied. But it was necessary "I escaped when i saw Lord Borr" he find him weird and too vain. He even threatened Mr. Stryker. Was he really going to fire the groundskeeper? Ugh.

Jonathan looked at Marilyn. She was having a misunderstanding with someone else? Jonathan thought it was the Gryffindor boy again but as she explained it was a Ravenclaw, Jonathan didn't bother asking. So who is this Ravenclaw person? Jonathan doesn't know a lot of Ravenclaws though. He only knows a handful of Ravenclaws. "What happened?" he asked. If she's willing to share then Jonathan would be there to listen but he's not going to push her if she doesn't want.

GULP.

Jonathan was shocked that was her follow up question. Jonathan didn't answer for awhile but just smiled instead while looking at the floor. "You mean, Kurumi?" his smile grew bigger.

Dash hopped down the steps two at a time, making his way back to the first floor. Really, a trip to the Owlery took forever. It was frustrating enough to make him think about getting his own personal owl. But he didn't really want to replace his old loyal pet, just because the creature had passed on.

He had bigger issues to worry about than owls anyways. Like the mad man Borr attacking him...and possibly losing his job! Taking a short cut past the ANNOYING portraits, Dash slowed his pace once he noticed one of his colleagues "Alright there Edvard? Will I be needing to take you to the hospital wing?" Because he really didn't want to. Now WHY was this man actually paying attention the the portraits that never shut up?

For Amy

Jack looked curiously up at the portraits which were arranged carefully on the huge walls. He looked to his left, then right and realised that he was alone. Again. As usual. Trying to ignore is increasingly dampening mood, he looked at the portrait in front of him, which portrayed an old man sleeping in an arm chair. He had orange robes and brown tweed trousers which were short enough to reveal green and pink stripy socks. He had a thick grey beard to his fat stomach, and a pink face. On his head was a pointed hat, striped purple and gold. His wand was rested on his lap, so Jack of course with nothing better to do chanced a hello. "Um, hi," he said, but the man didn't stir. "Hello." He said loudly, and the man jumped.

Wulfric the Weary may have been old, but he was perfectly able to leap out of a chair and draw his wand, even if it did make his joints moan in frustration. "You woke me from my slumber," he said sourly, glaring at the boy. "Ravenclaw." He said, scowling. "Bunch of swots in my day, I was a Hufflepuff you know, best house of all in my opinion." He said stoutly. "I went on to become aa marvellous wizard, I just," he coughed, his pink face turning pinker, "failed to wake up in time to see the herd of Angus Aberdeen's about to trample my tent." He scowled, "bloody cows." He muttered, sitting down again and dozing off.

Jack sighed. What a waste of two minutes.

Wow. Amy's face was a shade of.....angry purple and yet puce at the same time. She felt sick to the stomach, and looked it to, but she wasn't ill. No, because she would of gone to bed for that by now, no she was feeling what could be called intense embarassment, but also genuine hurt. And she didn't really get why that was, but she basically wanted to sit down and just cry. She wouldn't though, because they'd think they'd won, and they wouldn't. No. She wasn't in her uniform which she was thankful for, for the sheer fact she could belt it down the stairs, which she wouldn't be able to if she was in the grey restricting skirt.

And then she spotted someone, and though she was going to turn away and head off to the common room, that would be the first place in the school where Sammy would look for and she just wanted to avoid that. And Sammy would too, unless she felt her face was too plain and could of done with some blue colouring around her eye. Which was doubtful. Instead, she trudged over to Jack, and feeling utterly crap buried her face in his chest

Jack was still frowning at the sleeping portrait, when he felt a sudden blow against him. It wasn't a hard one, a light little whoosh, and he could feel someone embracing him, their head buried in his chest.

He looked down and saw Amy, and he gave her a hug, a gentle but supportive one, though in his mind he was thinking that whatever was wrong it must be bad enough, because Amy wasn't the type to get upset of nothing.

"Are you alright?" He asked her, though by that he meant, 'I know only too well you're not alright, so tell me what's wrong'.

Fine, she mumbled into his chest, nothings wrong she said, looking up at him from her shorty height, just wanted a hug she smiled weakily, before rehugging him. You smell nice she said, stepping away from him, before frowning and sniffing him, actually, you do smell nice she said, slightly confused. A familiar smell though. Twas nice

I'm fine she nodded again, scrubbing her eyes with her fists

Jack gave Amy a look. Nothing's wrong? What, was she just peeling onions then? Right. He laughed, sniffing himself. He smelled a bit cookie-ish. He had no idea why. Maybe it was his natural scent? To be honest, he didn't smell himself much, so wasn't too sure if this was the norm for him.

"Thanks," he grinned, "so do you." He said, sniffing her hair. Actually, it didn't smell bad. Better than bad, it smelled good. Nice even. He liked the smell. His face then became solemn. "Amy, I know only too well there's something wrong. I mean if you don't want to talk about it's okay..." He said, though he knew if he had someone to talk to when his Mam was so rotten to him at home, he'd have much happier Summers.