Magical Hogwarts

March 2005

The arts initiative brought at least a little colour into the grey walls of Manoir Vertneuf. Célestin despised the place and had not held back with this fact. He liked to be all dramatic sometimes. It was fun and he usually felt better afterwards. The whole new established rules at the schools were irritating and made school much less fun than it used to be in the past.

Painting was this month’s topic of the arts initiative. Well, painting was fine. Other kinds of art were maybe more on the top of his list of things he was eager to do but painting would do just fine to pass some time at this dreadful place. However, what sense was there in passing time when they didn’t seem to get any closer to leaving this dull place?

“Lola, are you coming?” He called out for his friend.

They had decided to go to the room where Mademoiselle Courtois gave out the colours, brushes and canvas together. Every day this month they technically had the opportunity to go there but Célestin didn’t want to appear overly eager. Admittedly he had a bit of a crush on their professor. She was a sight for sore eyes. As was Lola when he came to think of it.

“So,” he started, “what do you want to paint today? I was thinking of making a portrait of you. You know I’m talented. I think it might be fun. You’re in?”

He was not exactly thinking of a naturalistic portrait, though. Célestin could swing a brush but he totally failed at painting people so his idea of Lola’s portrait went more into the direction of Picasso’s surrealistic work.

@Lola Alonso

Lola had taken an interest in painting once in the summer after first year. Beauxbatons prided itself in molding creative minds and free thinkers, and the exposure to different forms of art – more than she’d ever seen before – had convinced her that drawing, painting, and these sorts of visually creative endeavours were her passion. Pleading with her parents achieved a hand-me-down paint set from a cousin, and she’d practiced all of one week until she’d found her new calling.

The idea of something different (and Célestin’s invitation) had led her here today. There was only so much to enjoy about the Manor; the ambience set a stage for dramatics and tension most of the time, but the gloom would settle in like a creature beneath the bed, and even the atmosphere sometimes lost its appeal. She was pleased to contribute to enhancing the place, adding a personal touch, even if her artistic talents had room for improvement.

“So, flowers,” she said, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. “I’ve been learning about new types. There are some that are big and bright and smell really nice but are actually deadly,” she continued,  “and they look and smell that way on purpose, just to attract different animals or insects, so they can snap down on them.” She clapped to accentuate the snap. “Can you believe it? Carnivorous plants!” She glanced at him to make sure he was paying attention. “There’s definitely something there about evil in beauty, something like Shakespeare.” Lola spoke emphatically, waving her hands in big swooping motions and lagging behind. His question jolted her to do a little jog to catch up. “Were you listening?” she asked as they entered the room.

The Spaniard went on to describe what she thought of hidden evil, or whether the plants’ deceptions were truly evil, as she trailed Célestin. “I'm painting a field of these flowers,” she responded absently, then instantly returned to her incomplete thought. Lola hadn’t even picked up her brushes yet while Célestin had found the space in front of his waiting canvas. Only his second sentence finally gave her pause. He was going to paint her?

Oh, to have a portrait of herself painted by her first kiss in the confines of a dreary gothic manor - to have her image install some light within the hallowed halls. A dream alive, a wish granted. Lola held these thoughts close as she stepped ahead, untouched paintbrushes already forgotten. Although she had only seen a few class-instructed pieces of his, she thought she knew him well. The boy had a flair for the dramatics, an imaginative mind, and surely an eye for beauty. She anticipated something realistic and close to perfection.

“How should I pose?” she asked, immediately striking her first one - one hand resting atop the other, chin nestled on the surface, a small shy smile pulling at her lips. Lola moved again, turning to the side, clasping her hands in front of her face and looking towards the ceiling with a wistful expression, almost appearing as if she was pleading.

Sometimes Célestin wondered if it was wrong of him not to listen closely when his friend was talking. They had intense conversations occasionally but there were times when Lola spoke and he found his thoughts lazily drifting to other topics. Lola had been talking about plants for longer than Célestin could bring himself to listen closely. Unfortunately Lola seemed to have noticed his lack of focus.

“Yeah, sure,” he quickly said, “carnivorous plants, Shakespeare…” Where had Lola seen the connection again? Well, he assumed he had proven that he had at least listened to some degree.

He nodded as Lola said she wanted to paint a field of flowers. It was a pretty motive for sure. Something that brought some colour into the grey walls of Manoir Vertneuf. He approved although his approval was hardly needed here.

He set up his canvas and got all the brushes and colours he needed as he let her in on his plan of painting her portrait. His friend’s reaction to the proposal amused him. At least she seemed to like his idea. That was nice to know and made it easier. She asked how she should pose and Célestin shrugged. Given the plan he followed she didn’t exactly need to pose but he was hardly going to tell her that.

“Just set your working space up by the window,” he suggested, “there’s good light that should help me to capture you well even while you’re working on your own painting. Just look up when I ask you to, okay?”

He dipped his brush into some royal blue oil paint and took a deep breath before bravely drawing a first outline on the canvas.

The portrait of an artist in natural light. She could envision the piece already. The direction Celestin gave was essentially nothing, but Lola did not truly need instructions. Already, different ideas sprouted in her head like the flowers she intended to paint. She angled her canvas diagonally on the left side of the window, allowing the sunlight to cast a soft glow on her face. She set up her paints and grabbed her brush in a flurry, twirling as she returned to her setup.

Her movements were slow, almost robotic, as she paused at random moments, intent on providing various references. Maybe he would capture her holding the paintbrush thoughtfully at the side of her face. Or perhaps she looked best staring at the canvas contemplatively, brush pressed against the surface. At one point she'd turned to look over her shoulder, donning what she intended to be a coy smile. Lola wanted people to look at her portrait and wonder what she knew. They should want to know it, too.

As they painted, curiosity would often get the better of her. The canvas had only been covered half in purple, half in green, when she turned to him again. "How is it coming along?" she asked, batting her eyes. Should she look more innocent, bashful? Which expressions seemed the most mysterious? Should she not show her face at all? Half of her face? Lola knew he was consumed by his art, and preferred for her to take direction, but surely a painting of her meant this was a collaboration and not a solo project. She asked her pressing questions.

"Do you need me to look down? Out the window?" Lola plucked the end of her skirt between two fingers and pulled it out slightly, crossing her legs, almost as if she was about to curtsy. "Does this make me look more elegant? Are you making me look elegant?"

She didn't wait for him to answer before another question came to mind and fell from her lips. This was the one she wanted to know the answer to most, a fact that caught her by surprise. "Why did you want to paint me?" Lola wondered if she'd have her own tale of an old flame reignited to tell to Cinda.

Lola was such a pretty girl. The warm light produced a shimmer on her brown hair and made her eyes shine. Célestin watched her as she put up her canvas and was admittedly a little sad that he was not capable of capturing this moment on his own canvas. He wasn’t untalented, not at all. However, he knew that he wasn’t able to produce a naturalistic portrait that would do Lola justice.

Célestin was almost hypnotised by Lola’s movements as she paused in some positions to give him something to work with. He watched her, a soft smile curving his lips. After a minute or maybe a lot more time had passed, he shook his head, reminding himself to proceed with his picture even if it wouldn’t turn into the kind of portrait Lola was probably expecting.

She asked him how it was coming along and the boy tilted his head to the side as if he was examining his own work. “Well,” he said, exhaling loudly, “it’s taking shape.” That wasn’t even a lie. The blue outlines had taken on a humanoid shape by now and he was now mixing red, blue and white colour to get a pale shade of purple to use for the robes. Once that was done, he added some yellow and black to the mix to produce brown colour to paint waves of brown hair as though he was viewing her from various different angles at the same time.

He took a step back to look at the painting with some distance and was actually rather pleased with the brown waves. They, at least, looked elegant. Lola asked him questions on how to pose and he couldn’t help it and grinned at her. However, before he could respond, she shot another question at him, one that wasn’t as easy to answer.

“Why?” he echoed, “well, who wouldn’t want to paint one of the prettiest girls of this school? I couldn’t imagine any better motive.”