Noel Lupin had always been a quiet kid. That was until she was thrusted into the whirlwind that is Harry Potter's life.
She learns some things about herself, unlocking a magical ability that could alter the course of her life.
Based off the books...
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Hermione lunged into her beaded bag, Harry watched her warily.
"Here...we...are..." she said between gritted teeth, and she pulled at something that was evidently in the depths of the bag. Slowly the edge of an ornate picture frame came into sight. Harry hurried to help her. As they lifted the empty portrait of Phineas Nigellus free of Hermione's bag, she kept her wand pointing at it, ready to cast a spell at any moment. "If somebody swapped the real sword for the fake while it was in Dumbledore's office," she panted, as they propped the painting against the side of the tent, "Phineas Nigellus would have seen it happen, he hangs right beside the case!"
"Unless he was asleep," said Harry, but he still held his breath as Hermione knelt down in front of the empty canvas, her wand directed at its center, cleared her throat, then said: "Er — Phineas? Phineas Nigellus?" Nothing happened. "Phineas Nigellus?" said Hermione again. "Professor Black? Please could we talk to you? Please?"
" 'Please' always helps," said a cold, snide voice, and Phineas Nigellus slid into his portrait. At once, Hermione cried: "Obscuro!"
A black blindfold appeared over Phineas Nigellus's clever, dark eyes, causing him to bump into the frame and shriek with pain. "What — how dare — what are you — ?"
"I'm very sorry, Professor Black," said Hermione, "but it's a necessary precaution!"
"Remove this foul addition at once! Remove it, I say! You are ruining a great work of art! Where am I? What is going on?"
"Never mind where we are," said Harry, and Phineas Nigellus froze, abandoning his attempts to peel off the painted blindfold. "Can that possibly be the voice of the elusive Mr. Potter?"
"Maybe," said Harry, knowing that this would keep Phineas Nigellus's interest. "We've got a couple of questions to ask you — about the sword of Gryffindor."
"Ah," said Phineas Nigellus, now turning his head this way and that in an effort to catch sight of Harry, "yes. That silly girl acted most unwisely there —"
"Shut up about my sister," said Ron roughly.
Phineas Nigellus raised supercilious eyebrows. "Who else is here?" he asked, turning his head from side to side. "Your tone displeases me! The girl and her friends were foolhardy in the extreme. Thieving from the headmaster!"
"What we really wanted to know, Professor Black, is whether anyone else has, um, taken out the sword at all? Maybe it's been taken away for cleaning or — or something?"
Phineas Nigellus paused again in his struggles to free his eyes and sniggered. "Muggle-borns," he said. "Goblin-made armor does not require cleaning, simple girl. Goblins' silver repels mundane dirt, imbibing only that which strengthens it."
"Don't call Hermione simple," said Harry.
"Professor Black," said Hermione, "couldn't you just tell us, please, when was the last time the sword was taken out of its case? Before Ginny took it out, I mean?"
