Hermione looked over to the portrait that stored her memories of him. There he stood, his pale figure profile prominent against the dark emerald of the background. It wasn’t entirely obvious that it was him - no, she had done a few alterations since his last visit to the sitting room. To an outside mind, this could be any wizard staring out at the Black Lake. His distinctive blonde hair was hidden under his cloak, but if he turned to look, she knew those silver eyes would peer back at her. 