Harry was sad. Because of what? Well, THAT was the problem. He didn't know why he was sad. He was JUST sad. So do you want to know what poor Harry did? Well, he went on to his little Muggle contraption with what Mr. Weasley said was "campoter". In fact, the ACTUAL name is "computer" but, sadly, Mr. Weasley refused to accept that very fact and spent the rest of the day huffing in his room, muttering "campoter" multiple times.
Hmm…so what should he do? Of course, he knew very well of how to work a computer but he didn't know which website to go on. He was still sad and now he was starting to get a little frustrated. Just a little. Well, maybe not a little. A LOT. Then he said out loud for Ginny and the kids were out and weren't there to hear him and if they did they would have been mighty shocked. He said, "I got on this beep computer and instead the beep made me even more beep sad and now I'm gonna beep this stupid bloody beep computer." If I had said even more of what he had said than my beep button would have been worn out and my fingers old and gray.
So a few hours had passed before Harry had stopped—er, swearing for lack of better word—at his nonchalant, still computer. But instead of his feelings quite drained (and his mouth dryer than usual) he felt more anger surface as the computer stared back at him. Smugly, he thought furiously and he drew his wand and "REDUCTO!" ed it. It was blasted backwards and through the wall forming a great, large hole where the Mona Lisa portrait had been.
"Oh beep," Harry said looking through the large hole. "Ginny would kill me for this." Indeed, it was true. Ginny WOULD kill him (or murder him and I'm not talking of the non-brutal type, it would be VERY brutal I should tell you) when she came home and find a large gaping hole in her wall in her bedroom where her favorite painting of Mona Lisa (which had cost half of Harry's vault in Gringott's, he had mourned the loss for a whole week and wanted more than anything to blast Mona's head away before Ginny threatened him to snap out of it before she Bat-Bogey-ed him)had been.
Harry leaned out the hole even more, looking for the Mona Lisa portrait. There it was, miraculously unblemished and without not a single scratch. Harry nearly laughed for joy. Then all of a sudden his glasses slipped on his nose and he reached out a hand to put it back in place but he lost his balance completely. He lurched out the window and fell, fell, fell…
CRASH
Harry stirred, expecting to feel pain shooting up his muscles at any moment but surprisingly felt nothing. He stood up and winced, not out of pain but out of what had cushioned his fall.
His whole face had landed on Mona Lisa's. Now two glasses shaped holes were where Mona Lisa's eyes were and her nose was smashed. The painting was officially ruined. He rummaged in his pockets for his wand (hoping that it could restore the picture) but his wand wasn't there.
"Damn!" He swore, remembering that his wand was in the living room. He felt anger rise in him and he threw himself on the floor but instead fell on the already ruined Mona Lisa. A now buttocks shaped hole was where her chest used to be. He swore again but couldn't help feeling a bit humored. The portrait looked ridiculous.
But then he remembered something that quenched his amusement. The seller (a smug-faced man) had told them that it was a magical portrait, though it didn't move. Harry remembered his exact words.
"If you do not take care of her well her ink will run and no amount of magic will put it right."
Oh, damn. Now he was going to have to buy another Mona Lisa. Great.
Then all of a sudden he heard a car pull up and a car door slam. "Honey, I'm home!" There was a sound of feet crunching on gravel and the front door opening.
Harry swore quietly and stood up. Ginny hadn't seen him since he and Mona Lisa had fallen over the side of the house. He battled over his choices for a moment (one including of Ginny crucifying and putting his head on a pike, actually that was his imagination) then chose to reveal himself, grab his wand and try to restore the wall and make a replica of Mona Lisa's portrait.
Then he gathered himself and went inside. Ginny was busy in the kitchen unloading tons of groceries so there was no need of Step 1. Step 2 went well and finally he was back in Ginny and his bedroom, looking at the large hole.
"Reparo," he muttered and huge chunks of the wall sealed themselves. He felt relieved and attempted a replica of Mona Lisa. Exactly right except for that little red tinge on her nose. Oh well, he thought, Ginny would not notice. Then he went downstairs.
At the sound of his heavy footsteps Ginny looked up and smiled radiantly. "Hi, honey," she said serenely. "The kids went upstairs."
Harry's heart started to beat real fast. Did they see him? "Just now?" he asked, attempting to make his voice casual.
"No," said Ginny putting milk in the fridge. "I made them help me unpack the stuff for a bit. They just left."
Oh.
He watched Ginny finish up and then she said, "Anyway, I'm going to go for a nap. The kids really exhausted me. Running around the place and all…" She exited the room and went upstairs.
Harry felt sweat breaking out on his forehead. What if she noticed??
He followed Ginny, ideas swirling around his head, each one sillier than the last. He came up with nothing and had to watch as Ginny went to the room and closed the door. He waited, on the top step, waiting with bated breath for his wife's shrill scream.
Tick, tock, tick, tock. The clock seemed oddly louder. Then—
"ARGHHHHHHH! WE'VE BEEN ROBBED!"
He burst into the room as the kids toppled head first out of James' room. "What happened?" they asked following Harry in and stopping dead.
Ginny was in front of the Mona Lisa portrait, pointing with a shaking finger on the extremely small teeny pimple.
"What is it?" James asked, not seeing the extremely small teeny pimple.
"It's…a…pimple," Ginny whispered, almost inaudible.
"A what?" said Lily, coming over to stand at her mother's side, scrutinizing Mona Lisa's face for the extremely small teeny pimple.
"Over there!" Ginny grasped her daughter's hand and moved it to point at Mona Lisa's nose.
"Oh…" Lily shook her hand from Ginny's firm grip and walked away, muttering, "She's gone bonkers…"
"I heard that!"
"Sorry…"
"Come on," said James, ushering his two siblings from the room. "We'll leave mum to gasp and shriek at the non existent pimple." So they left leaving Harry in the room with Ginny. Harry gulped.
Ginny turned around, her face as red as a beet. "What did you do?" she asked dangerously, pointing a finger that was shaking with anger at him.
"Do-do what?" he asked, trying to sound innocent but failing miserably.
She drew out her wand and Harry had a sudden memory of Draco Malfoy's face getting attacked by flying Bat-Bogeys.
He backed away. She charmed the door and it banged shut. Harry heard a click as the door locked itself magically. "I-I didn't do anything!" his voice coming out as a squeak.
"Don't you sodding lie to me!" Ginny yelled, her wand aimed at him. "You were the only one at home and you tell me that you didn't do anything and that suddenly Mona Lisa had a pimple sprouting on her face?"
Harry flinched at her sarcastic tone. "Well, the man said it was magical…" He said in a last attempt to save himself.
"But not in that way! What kind of maker makes a picture that SUDDENLY and MAGICALLY would have a PIMPLE!"
He swallowed. If he had been smart then he would have remembered his wand that he had stashed in his pocket but unfortunately he didn't.
And for the rest of the week Harry had pimples sprouting all over his body and Bat-Bogeys surrounding his head. And ever since that he had glowered at Mona Lisa, who still had the pimple on her nose. But look on the bright side, he thought, at least Ginny hadn't found the real broken Mona Lisa.
"HARRY! WHAT HAVE YOU SODDING DONE?"
Oh, shit.
THE END
