AN: This is in answer to war and peace's SAYS challenge (write a fic from the point of view or with the main plot about a painting). We have a new pairing, too! Violet + Walrus Virus! Yay! Hope you enjoy it!

-

Violet tapped her fingers impatiently on her frame, tossing her head to get painted curls out of her eyes. And then back to the waiting game.

"Why do you look like that?"

Bloody, bloody. Not him. Violet turned to look at the wizard beside her. His walrus moustache curled a little, which, she guessed, meant he was smiling. She couldn't tell though. The stupid thing hid his mouth completely.

"What?" she asked bitterly, glaring at him. He sidled further into her frame, resting his corpulent behind on the painted wall behind her. He was still smiling. At least, she thought he was.

"You look incredibly down, my dear. Is something the matter?"

Violet gave him a look that left him in no uncertainty as to what regard she held him.

"Yes. There is a very annoying man standing in my painting and he won't leave."

Walrus' eyes twinkled maddeningly.

"Oh? Should I get rid of him for you?"

Violet narrowed her eyes at him. Urgh. He made her so mad. Why didn't the Fat Lady hurry up?

"Oh, please do," Violet said bitingly, turning away with a sniff. Maybe if she just ignored him…

"I'm terribly sorry, my dear, but I can't seem to find the cad who has irritated you so appallingly. Will you ever forgive me?"

Violet looked over her shoulder at him. He was grinning. She glared.

"I don't think it's possible. He really is too annoying to be kept alive."

Well, so much for the ignoring.

He looked a little hurt, but swept on regardless. Pulling a small painted rosebud from behind his back, he presented it to her. Violet stared at it, aghast.

"What are…why…when…why?" she spluttered, her eyes flicking between the flower and the slowly reddening man before her. He waved the rose at her again and she took it, fearing an eye removal if she wasn't quick about it.

"I…uh…we have been friends for a long time,"

Violet snorted in a very unladylike manner. Walrus ignored it.

"I mean, it's difficult not to be when you've spent …what is it now? A century…a century and a half…"

"One hundred and seventy two years, three months and eight days," Violet said, trying not to sound too bored. Walrus looked ecstatic.

"You counted!"

Violet inspected her fingernails, not looking at him.

"It has been a very long time. A very long and boring time. I needed to occupy myself somehow. And Baldric…"

"Emeric."

"Right. We aren't friends. We have never been friends. I'm sorry to disappoint you, but we just aren't the same kinds of people. You're…you. And I'm me. We're not suited. Not suited at all. Thank you for the rose, it's lovely, but you can go now."

Walrus looked crestfallen; even his moustache seemed to wilt slightly. Violet felt bad for about ten seconds and then remembered who he was. He had been making her life a living hell since his portrait had been mounted beside hers. He was always making comments about how pretty she was, and how sweet and innocent and pure. It made her want to gag. She wasn't some…sixteenth century painting with no ideas about what men wanted. And anyway, who wanted to be sweet, innocent or pure? She was a woman for Pete's sake. She wasn't young and blind to everything but a man who could turn a nice compliment her way. Violet turned to Walrus, pointing him out with a bone melting glare.

"But I just wanted –" Walrus protested, spreading his hands in supplication to her.

"You can go now," Violet repeated, unmoved. Walrus hung his head and exited her painting, not stopping at his. When he had disappeared into a painting of an open meadow and vanished around a corner, Violet sat down heavily, letting out a sigh of relief.

At that exact moment, the Fat Lady came around the corner and sat down, panting heavily.

"Hello, Vi," she said after a moment, trying desperately to catch her breath.

"Hello," Violet replied, picking at a loose thread on her dress. She was feeling markedly distressed and wasn't at all in the mood for gossiping any more.

The Fat Lady looked over at her curiously.

"You're looking down, sweetie. What's the matter?"

Violet didn't look up, preferring instead to stare at the floor. It was a very interesting floor.

"Oh, nothing," she said airily, waving it away as a knot formed in her stomach. She had been utterly in the right in sending him away. She hadn't been too rude…had she? Maybe he deserved…no. Violet Grey did not apologise.

The Fat Lady took Violet at her word, settling more comfortably into her chair.

"Has anything interesting happened today?" she asked, adjusting her pink skirt. "Has Jeremy been bothering you again?"

"Emeric," Violet corrected her without thinking, still staring at the floor. The Fat Lady looked interested.

"Something happened, didn't it?" she said eagerly, and Violet finally looked up at her friend.

"No, no of course it didn't," she said admonishingly, frowning.

"Then why did you correct me?" asked the Fat Lady, grinning widely. Violet bit her lip, trying to think.

"We're…friends."

"No you're not!" the Fat Lady cried, looking very amused. Violet scowled at the floor.

"Well, we could be. Maybe…maybe we've been a bit too hard on him. He's not…"

The Fat Lady laughed. "You were not going to say 'he's not that bad' were you? Because he is! You've told me so yourself! He's…he's…Walrus. You can't be friends with Walrus!"

Violet waved her friend's comment away. The Fat Lady put a hand on Violet's arm.

"Oh, Vi, don't tell me you're falling for his compliments. You're much smarter than that, sweetie. You need to tell him what's what. Otherwise he'll think he can get away with anything. Don't fall for it, Vi – he's not a nice man, and you know it."

Violet gazed out at the wall opposite her painting and nodded. Yes, she knew her friend was right. She was smarter than that. And who needed compliments, anyway, when she had friends like hers? And Walrus…well, if he couldn't deal with a solid rejection then what kind of man was he anyway? Not one who she wanted to be with, that was for sure and certain.

-

Violet was woken in the middle of the night by voices. The Fat Lady had gone back to her own portrait, and all the other paintings were fast asleep. Violet leaned forward in her chair, wondering if she was about to get some gossip.

"I can't believe we've managed it! We'll get the…the…a prize! We're geniuses! Our names'll go down in history!"

"Shh, Prongs, keep it down mate. Don't want to wake anyone up, do we?"

There was a rustling noise and then the unmistakeable sound of someone being punched in the stomach. A voice wheezed out of the darkness.

"Ow! Pads, jeez, no need to hit me. I was shutting up anyway!"

"Oh, stop your whining, you great lump. I didn't mean to hit you. Help me get this thing, would you?"

"Where is it?"

"Here. Here…here….no, PRONGS, NOT THERE!"

"Oh, sorry mate. Didn't mean to…"

"Never speak of it."

"I won't, Pads…just…"

"Never."

"Yeah, ok. Don't get your knickers in a twist. Here, ok. Where's the…oh right, got it. Have you got it?"

"Yeah. I have it. Have you got it?"

"Yeah, I just said I did."

"Oh. Ok. Ready?"

"When you are."

"Alright. Count 'er in, yeah?"

"On three then?"

"Wicked."

"One."

"Oh, this is going to be brilliant!"

"Two."

"Ready, ready…"

"And you tell me to shut up - three!"

There was a rushing sound, like water filling a bath, and then footsteps running off into the distance. A whoop sounded far-off, and Violet sat very still. What had just happened? Was something dangerous about to happen? What was going on? Violet peered into the darkness surrounding her portrait, but could see nothing. And then the screams started.

Portraits all through the antechamber off the Great Hall were waking up, sounds of distress coming from them all. Violet tried to see what was going on, her heart hammering in her chest. And then there was the sound of water again, crashing through the portraits to her left and right until they all converged on her in one painted and furious wall of water. Violet looked up at the waves in confusion, the last thought before they hit being how did they get water into the portraits? And then she was swallowed up in the water, drowning in one great blue paint stroke.

When she was under the water, Violet wondered vaguely whether or not a painting could die from a painted wave. After all, she was not really alive, but if a real wave could drown a real person, then perhaps a painted wave could drown a painted person.

She was slowly turning upside down in the water, still thinking about death, when someone came speeding through the water towards her, his hands grabbing for her and pulling her up to the surface. Violet gasped for breath when they came out into the air. She turned around in her saviour's arms, readying herself to thank him, and was struck silent.

"Are you alright?" Walrus asked, looking very concerned. He pushed a lock of wet hair from her face and she smiled despite herself.

"A bit…do you know what happened?"

Walrus paused and then swum to his portrait, pulling Violet along with him. They reached his portrait, empty apart from a leather chair and a desk, and completely dry. He motioned for her to take his chair and she did so, looking up at him.

"So…do you know what happened?" Violet asked again, pulling her dripping shawl around her shoulders in a gesture meant to warm. Walrus removed his coat for her to take and then, realising that it, too, was dripping wet, lay it across his desk instead.

"Some students playing a prank, I think. Those…uh, what do they call themselves? Marauders. Very clever, but rather dangerous. I think they had gotten into a fight with George over there…wanted to teach him a lesson."

Violet glanced over to a portrait in the corner; a tall blonde youth was swearing ineffectually as he beat down his clothes with one hand and tried to fix his papers with the other. Violet turned back to Walrus.

"He can be a bit of an idiot," Violet admitted. She pushed a sodden lock of hair out of her face.

Walrus smiled.

"I think we can all be idiots sometimes. Violet, I'm sorry if I…if I upset you yesterday. It isn't what I wanted at all. Can you forgive me?"

Violet smiled a little, and let him take her hand. He wasn't all that bad, really. Maybe she should give him a chance. And who was she to say that they weren't suited? Who knew what was suited and what wasn't? It all came down to circumstances, didn't it? She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek.

"Only if you can forgive me. Emeric."

-

AN: So? What did you think? Worth it? Let's see some of you clicking that little grey/blue/purple button there then. It says 'Go!' and I think you should. Go! That is. Go and review! Yars, aren't you all terribly convinced? Good.

icex