Harry slowly opened the door of the women's loo closest to the gallery that held the Mona Lisa and looked out into the hallway. Peering over his shoulder, Ginny swept the dimly-lit passage with her eyes, still shivering from the strange chill of the Disillusionment Charm.
Satisfied the coast was clear, he reached back, clumsily pawing at her outline until he found her hand and pulled her gently into the corridor. He pointed to the camera in the ceiling and put his finger against his lips. She could just barely see his Disillusioned outline as she nodded.
Moving at a very leisurely pace so as not to leave any trace on film, they headed toward the tiny painting behind the layers of bulletproof glass. "What do you think she's going to have to say?" Ginny asked as they strolled down the aisle. What am I going to say?
"Well, with your track record, who knows?"
"Do you think she'll ask for something? What could a wizard painting possibly want?"
"Maybe she wants us to get her out of here?" Harry said, the smile clear in his voice. Ginny tapped him on the shoulder in exasperation. "She's been out of the museum before. Maybe she wants to stretch her legs?"
"Harry, we are not stealing the Mona Lisa from the Louvre," Ginny admonished. "Maybe she just wants to have a nice chat. I don't imagine she gets many magical visitors—" Harry squeezed Ginny's hand, bringing her to a stop. A moment later, a guard appeared, eyes darting around as he took in everything but the two of them. She hardly dared to breathe, lungs protesting until the guard was through to the next gallery.
A few pulse-pounding moments later, they stood in front of the Mona Lisa once more, this time blissfully alone. Fixated on the painting, Ginny was only peripherally aware of Harry casting several privacy spells in rapid succession before releasing the Disillusionment Charm on her, sending a cascade of warmth down her body.
"Why didn't you do those spells earlier?" Ginny asked as he became fully visible once more. She took a small compact out of her purse and peered into the mirror, straightening her hair. Wouldn't do to look like a crazy woman in front of … well I don't think she's royalty. Is she?
"Too difficult to do on the move." Harry said, looking at the painting with a small frown.
"What's that look for?" Ginny asked, putting her compact away.
Harry grunted and shook his head. "Nothing, love," he said in that voice Ginny knew meant something. "Well? What are you waiting for?"
Ginny stood still, staring at the painting, mustering up her Gryffindor courage. The woman in the window appeared to be asleep. Looking up at Harry, Ginny reached out for a reassuring hand squeeze. I can't believe I'm going to chat to the most famous painting in the world! Squaring her shoulders, she walked right up to the glass, knocking softly on it to attract the sleeping woman's attention.
Almost as if she had a sixth sense, the Mona Lisa woke and a thrill shot through Ginny's stomach as she met the painted woman's eyes. They were full of excitement and she broke into a wide smile, letting loose a stream of words. "Oh no, Harry! I can't hear her through the glass!"
Hands in his trouser pockets, Harry stepped up next to her, lips pursed. "D'you think an amplification spell would work?"
The Mona Lisa rolled her eyes and Ginny startled when she disappeared, reappearing in another painting, one with the fat man holding a horse that she'd barely noticed earlier. "Oh, I didn't know you could move to other paintings in here!" Ginny said, stepping toward the new painting. She almost expected the horse to move, but only the Mona Lisa was animated. She made a fine figure standing next to the horse, her somber black dress falling all the way to the ground.
Looking back at her original location, Ginny frowned at the fleeting double vision that swept over her; somehow the Mona Lisa was both there and not. Shaking her head, she turned her attention back to the five hundred-year-old woman.
"You can see me!" she said, her voice surprisingly high and girlish. Ginny wondered how long it had been since she'd spoken to anyone.
"Yes, we can! I'm so honored to, erm, meet you," she said, executing an odd hybrid of a bow and a curtsey. "What should I call you?"
That famous smile played on her lips and she gracefully inclined her head. "You may call me Lisa."
"All right." Ginny looked back over her shoulder at Harry and twitched her hand, silently asking him to join her. She felt oddly exposed standing there by herself and Harry's presence next to her made her feel more settled.
Still luminous, Lisa's texture now matched her temporary setting and Ginny filed that information away for later. I really need to learn more about how wizarding paintings work, she thought, recalling the cheery Sir Cadogan.
"I'm Ginny Potter and this is my husband, Harry," Ginny said, trying not to sound completely breathless. "I … are you a witch? Or was your painter a wizard?"
"Leonardo was an extraordinary man, but he was not a wizard, no," she said. "While he was painting my portrait, I exerted my own influence to ensure that I would be properly immortalized." She gathered her shawl around her and squared her shoulders as she stood to her full height. Even then, she was barely taller than the horse's back.
"So Leonardo was a Muggle for sure, then," Ginny mused, tingling with the thrill of discovery. "He's still argued about today."
"He dearly loved the idea of magic and asked endless questions about how magic worked and demanded demonstrations. My Francesco was only too happy to oblige him." She looked down and shook her head fondly. "Those two were ever spending time together."
Ginny raised her eyebrows at this. I wonder if she knew about Leonardo's … proclivities? she thought. Maybe there was more than magic curiosity between them. "Well, I don't know if you know, but wizards aren't really allowed to tell Muggles about magic these days, unless it's very special circumstances," she said, thinking about Ben.
Lisa shook her head. "That is a shame that we have to hide our skills and talents. I have heard of this … statute."
Ginny shared a surprised look with Harry. "Oh? From whom?" she asked. Have other wizards visited her through the years? I'm sure we're not the first magical people to have visited this place or seen her portrait.
Pale complexion flushing pink, Lisa looked down, that enigmatic smile on her face. "I have made a friend in this place. He is the one that told me about the change in our relationship with Muggles."
"There's another wizard painting in here? Can we meet him?" Ginny asked, full of excitement at the idea of another wizard portrait in the Louvre. "We didn't see another one when we were here earlier, but I know we didn't see everything, so I suppose we could have missed him."
Lisa looked sad and let out a sorrowful sigh. "I would like nothing better than to introduce you to my … friend, but I cannot."
"Why?" Harry asked, startling Ginny. She'd been so absorbed with talking to the actual Mona Lisa that she'd nearly forgotten he was standing right next to her. "Is he out on loan?"
"Would that it were that simple and I knew he would be returning. I'm afraid he has been stolen."
"What? Stolen?" Ginny searched her memory for any recent news of a theft from the Louvre. "That would have been huge news, but…" she shook her head, unable to come up with anything.
"He has been stolen and a forgery put in his place. No one knows of the theft but me. I will show you." Ginny took Harry's hand as he quickly Disillusioned them once more and released the privacy charms he'd set in the gallery before they followed the Mona Lisa as she moved from painting to painting.
Ginny watched, fascinated as she appeared in each one, matching the textures, brushstrokes and colors, all the while retaining her essential luminous qualities that made her a masterpiece. "I wonder what would happen if she wandered into a Picasso," she whispered to Harry, pleased to hear his chuckle.
They progressed through several galleries, nearly running into one security guard that Harry neatly Confounded before they arrived at a large painting of a splendidly-dressed man. Lisa stood next to him, a mournful look on her face. She reached out her hand to rest it on his puffy sleeve, using the corner of her shawl to wipe a tear from her eye.
Ginny barely noticed when Harry released the Disillusionment Charm and cast the privacy spells in this new gallery as she studied this new portrait. "Full-length portrait of a man holding a hat," she read from the plaque. The subject of the painting stared back at her, eyebrows raised expectantly, his shoulder-length hair in perfect waves as he stood confidently, one hand holding a large black hat.
"This is, or rather was, my friend Egbert Cornelis Janszoon," Lisa said, looking diminutive next to what was evidently a very tall man.
Hands in his trouser pockets, Harry stood in front of the painting, examining it closely, nose nearly brushing the canvas. "How long ago did you realize he was different?" he asked, taking a step back and cocking his head to one side.
Lisa twisted her hands in front of her as she thought. "I … am unsure," she said, shrugging. "It's difficult for me to tell the days sometimes."
"It's all right," Ginny said, wishing she could physically touch her to offer more concrete reassurance. "What do you reckon, Harry? Someone painted the forgery, probably right here in this museum and then they pulled a switcheroo?"
"That's the most likely scenario." Harry stepped over the short barrier and ran his hand along the edges of the ornate frame. Ginny tensed, certain she'd hear the blaring of alarms and the running footsteps of guards at any second, but nothing happened and he rejoined her on the right side of the barrier.
Ginny watched as he drew his wand and cast several spells in quick succession, frowning when nothing seemed to happen. "What was that for?"
"Magic detection, Revelio to see if there's anything underneath. Pretty standard," he said, sliding his wand back into his pocket.
"Anything?"
"Nothing. Whoever took Egbert Cornelis Janszoon, they weren't wizards."
"One of ours would never have done such a thing and separated us." Lisa's face was flooded with color, her usual serene mask replaced by a mighty frown. She had been speaking perfect English with only a hint of an Italian accent, but as she grew angrier, her accent became stronger. Stamping a delicately-slippered foot on the painted marble floor, she turned to her erstwhile friend, gesticulating wildly. "He was my only companion in this place! The only one I could talk to since my Francesco was taken away from me!"
Ginny nearly gasped at the revelation that the Mona Lisa was part of a diptych. A lost da Vinci? This would turn the art world on its head! "Oh, Lisa, I'm so sorry!" Her heart went out to the woman in the painting, now covering her face with her shawl as her shoulders shook. How lonely she must have been, surrounded by beautiful but dumb objects, stared at by people who couldn't talk back to her. Shivering, she wrapped her arms around herself and leaned against Harry.
"All right?" he murmured, putting an arm around her shoulders.
"Yeah," she said, wiping at the corner of one eye, moved by Lisa's grief. They stood quietly, taking in the other paintings in the gallery as they gave her time to collect herself.
After several awkward minutes, Lisa cleared her throat and Ginny saw that she'd regained her composure, arms folded in front of her. "I'm sorry for your loss," Ginny said, bowing her head as if she were at a funeral. "Is there anything we can do?"
Lisa looked longingly at the haughty, frozen face and sighed. "I was lost and found once. I can only ask that you keep an eye out for him and return him to me."
An electric jolt shot through Ginny and Harry's arm tightened around her shoulders for a moment and she thought she heard him sigh. "Um, we'll try our best. Do you have any information or anything that might help us find him?"
Lisa grew thoughtful, nodding to herself. "Egbert did tell me that there was a student painting him. He was quite proud of it because that didn't happen very often to him."
"Did he describe the person painting him? Man? Woman? Old? Young?" Harry asked in rapid-fire Auror fashion. Lisa shook her head at each question, looking more and more despondent.
"No. Egbert was from a different time than me and didn't have a very close relationship with Muggles. He'd told me of the sorts of events that led to our world hiding itself and they were not good memories." She sighed, reaching out for his still figure and stopping herself. "He did not generally take much notice of the people that came to look at him."
"Well, if we see him somewhere, we'll definitely bring him back," Ginny said, taking out her phone to take a picture. The image on the screen showed only the man holding his hat and not Lisa standing next to him.
Lisa took another look at the still figure and sighed. She wrapped her shawl around her shoulders, visibly shaking off her melancholy. "That is all I can ask as I am not free to act myself. If you bring him back to me, you will have my eternal gratitude."
"Well, then I know I will always have at least one friend in Paris," Ginny said, taking Harry's hand in hers and squeezing tight. "I think we're going to go. Thank you so much for chatting with us." Lisa nodded once and Harry took that as his cue, Apparating them both to their well-appointed room.
Kicking off her high heels, Ginny fell back onto the sofa, covering her eyes with her hands. "Harry," she said, feeling his weight settle next to hers, "do you even realize what a momentous discovery we've made tonight?"
"You mean the fact that we discovered that one of the most famous works of art in the whole world is a wizarding portrait, painted by one of the most famous and eccentric artists in history?" Harry said.
"We're hardly the first to know this. The French ministry must know. I wonder if they know about the theft?" Ginny uncovered her eyes and looked at him. His head rested against the back cushion of the sofa and his eyes were closed, hands clasped over his stomach. Her eyes traced his profile and she reached out, sweeping a curl of hair behind his ear. "Tired?"
"Been a long day." Harry turned his head and took her hand, pressing a kiss into her palm.
"Well, it's not like we had to fly here or anything." Harry's lips had crept up her palm and were now nibbling on the inside of her wrist, tickling her skin and giving her goosebumps.
"Mm, true." Harry was now making his way up her arm, teasing at the sensitive skin of her inner elbow. "You know how I feel about crowds."
Ginny closed her eyes, enjoying the sensations of his warm breath and soft lips on her skin as she relaxed back into the sofa cushions. "You were so brave today," she murmured. A shiver raced up her spine as he placed a delicate kiss on her collarbone. Opening her eyes, she looked down at Harry's dark hair, silver-threaded now, where he rested against her breast.
Leaning forward, she kissed him awkwardly on his forehead, heart fluttering as his eyes met hers. Before she was fully aware of what was happening, she was straddling Harry, the skirt of her dress pushed high up on her hips as they kissed. His lips were warm against hers and his hands were on her bottom, his fingers teasing at the edges of her knickers.
"Are you even wearing knickers?" he asked, trailing the tips of his fingers from the round fullness of her bum to the tops of her knees and back again.
Ginny hummed and leaned her head back as Harry made his way down her neck. "I might not have bothered tonight, but I didn't know where we were going, so I thought it best to be prepared."
Harry's chuckle was warm against her skin, giving her another flutter. "Prepared for what?"
Grabbing a fistful of his hair, she brought his lips back up to hers. She pushed her tongue into his mouth, making him groan in appreciation. "I never know what's going to happen when I'm out with you," she said, chest heaving as she caught her breath. "What if you'd set up skydiving? How would that have looked with me flashing all of Paris my fanny?"
"Then I'd be skydiving backwards, wouldn't I?" He gave her a wolfish grin and she dissolved into laughter, visualizing falling through the air with her dress up around her waist, Harry underneath her, trying to catch a glimpse.
Setting aside that extremely interesting thought, Ginny focused on snogging her husband on a sofa in the middle of Paris. He had pulled the zip on the back of her dress down, making short work of her strapless bra. Her hips seemed to have a mind of their own as she ground down on his crotch, Harry groaning against her lips.
Long habit made Ginny pause at the noise, pulling away from Harry as she listened for the sound of a waking child, flushing hot when she realized what she was doing. "All right?" Harry asked, rubbing the bare skin of her arms.
"Fine," she said, shaking her head. "Just being ridiculous."
"Me, too," he said, his voice soft in quiet room. "I keep listening for them, expecting James to come shooting around the corner at any second."
Ginny rested her forehead against Harry's, letting out a rueful chuckle. "What happened to us? Can't even snog on the sofa anymore."
"Yeah?" Harry's warm hands swept down her bare back, passing over her rucked-up dress to rest on her bottom. He squeezed gently, giving her that flutter again. "We seem to be doing all right."
Ginny sat up, resting her hands on his shoulders, allowing more of her weight to rest squarely on Harry's lap, the contact making her belly swoop. "I'll show you 'all right'," she said, grabbing his face in her hands, the stubble of his beard rough against her palms.
"Please do," he said as he grinned up at her, eyes glinting with mischief.
"So, what's on the agenda for today?" Ginny asked, enjoying the early morning sunshine on their balcony. She picked up the sliced baguette, surprised that it was still warm from the oven, and spread butter on it.
"Hmm, dunno." Harry glanced up from the newspaper he was reading, the corner of his mouth curling up in a smile. "I was fine staying in bed."
Ginny blushed and looked down, focusing on spreading the strawberry jam on her baguette. Memories from last night came to her in flashes of images and sensations. Last night had been the first time in … Well, ages that we could really just … get into it. Ginny took a bite of the baguette, savoring the richness of the butter paired with the sweetness of the jam.
Usually we just try to be fast and quiet … but there hasn't really even been a lot of that lately. She winced inwardly as she recalled too many missed date nights and coming to bed with a stack of papers and her laptop, intent on catching up on work rather than being with her husband.
She shifted her eyes to look at the bed, just visible over Harry's shoulder. The sheets had come all untucked at the corners and were in an untidy pile in the middle of the bed, the comforter somewhere on the floor. "Sorry? I didn't quite hear what you said." Heat bloomed across her face as she realized Harry was talking to her.
Cocking his eyebrow at her, Harry sipped his tea. "I said I was thinking about what you said last night about the French ministry."
"Oh? What did I say?" Ginny asked, genuinely wondering why she would have mentioned the French ministry.
"You said you wondered if the ministry here already knew about the theft."
"Did I? Well, I'm very forward-thinking, aren't I?" Ginny said, embarrassed that sex had addled her so much that she didn't even remember what she'd said last night.
"Indeed." Harry folded his paper and picked up his own baguette, skipping the butter, which Ginny thought was a shame, choosing to spread only strawberry jam on it.
Ginny continued with her breakfast, watching as Harry finished with his baguette and poured himself another cup of tea before unfolding his newspaper again. "Well?" she finally asked, unable to stand the suspense.
"Hmm?" Harry looked up from his newspaper, mouth full of baguette.
"The French ministry?"
"Oh yes." Harry continued to chew, finishing his bite and dusting off his hands while Ginny exercised her patience. "You said last night that we've hardly got to be the only ones that know the Mona Lisa is a wizard portrait, so then it's likely that the other one is known, too. I thought I might drop in and see what I can find out."
"That doesn't sound much like vacation," Ginny said, crossing her arms. "What about sightseeing?"
"And shopping?" Harry grinned and refolded the paper, standing up and stretching his arms high over his head. His poorly-tied hotel robe gaped open, giving Ginny a good look at the stag on his hip. "Come on," he said, holding his hand out to her. "Let's use up all of the hot water."
Ginny wandered through the aisles of the musty antique shop, wishing that Ben were with her. She picked up a delicate teapot, rubbing her index finger over the gilding before setting it back down again. Maybe I'll see if I can find another little trinket for Harry, she thought, heading up towards the front of the shop and the cases of jewelry. Hopefully this one won't have a ghost attached!
She was leaning over the glass case trying to get a better look at a jeweled butterfly pin when she felt a hand on her back. "On devrait t'arrêter pour excès de beauté sur la voie publique," Harry whispered, making the hairs on the back of her neck prickle.
Straightening up, she turned to look at him, mouth quirking up in a half-smile as she tried to figure out what he'd said. "Something something public beauty something?"
Harry grinned at her, rocking back and forth on his feet with his hands in his jeans pockets. "You should be arrested for excessive beauty in public," he said, obviously proud of himself.
"I see. What else did you learn in there?" she asked, nodding her head at the deserted-looking building across the alley from the shop. The broken windows and leasing signage were simply show for Muggles; behind the run-down brick facade hummed the bureaucracy of Magical France. "Did you find Daniel?"
"I did."
"And?"
"And we're having lunch in about twenty minutes." Harry turned his attention to the case she'd been looking in. "See anything interesting?"
"That butterfly had caught my eye. What do you think?"
Harry gave it a look and then winked at her. "Are you sure it doesn't have a ghost that comes with it? You know what happened the last time you got something at an antique shop."
"Goodness." Ginny whacked him on the shoulder and shook her head. "I want it. Buy it for me. You're better at French than I am," she said, tapping the glass above the butterfly pin.
Daniel turned out to be a very engaging Auror about Harry's age with dark brown hair and a mobile, expressive face perfectly suited to telling outrageous stories. "So, let me get this straight. You and Harry are stuck on the side of a building and there's a full squadron of gendarmes on the street below?" Ginny asked, sides aching from laughter.
"Oui!" Daniel grinned at her, giving her a wide-eyed look, his startlingly blue eyes nearly bugging out. "I turned to Harry and said, merde, how are we going to get out of this one? The gendarmes, they are no Dark Lord, but they do present a challenge!"
Harry snorted as he took a sip of his wine. "Not much of one."
"So what did you do? They had their spotlights on you, didn't they? And guns?"
"They thought we were a couple of … cat burglars, no?" Daniel said, his expression clearly indicating the great insult to his person that assumption had caused. "Harry, though, he managed to create une distraction and we got away."
"How, though? You both had your hands in the air and couldn't get to your wands." Ginny grinned, envisioning both Harry and this Daniel with their backs up against a brick wall, faces shining in the glare of the spotlights, hands held up in surrender.
"I cast some flash bangs behind them, made them look," Harry said, leaning back in his seat. He gave them both a wide smile and put his hands behind his head.
"But how? Wandless?"
Harry shrugged and sat up straight. "I keep telling you, love. You just have to really want it and I really wanted to be out of there with my arse intact."
Ginny blushed, thinking of all the times he'd Vanished some part of her clothing without laying a hand on her or his wand and cast a quick glance at Daniel, blushing even harder at his knowing look. "Well, I'm very glad you made it out with your arse intact, then," she said, clearing her throat. "Speaking of arse, Harry has been teaching me some French since we've been here. Do I have you to thank for his language skills?"
Daniel shrugged and finished his wine, grinning at Harry. "Well, he was a very curious student and who am I to deny him the knowledge he desired?"
"You wanted to learn those terrible pick up lines?" Ginny asked, turning to Harry. She was pleased to see his cheeks turn pink as she put him on the spot.
"So, Daniel, you said you had some information for us?" he said, changing the subject.
"Yes, I have." He leaned in closer, inviting them to lean in as well. His eyes darted from side to side and Ginny assumed he was checking for anyone taking an undue interest in their conversation. "We have long been aware of the Mona Lisa being a magical portrait and we have our own security measures in place to augment the Muggles'."
"Makes sense," Harry murmured. "I imagine you weren't best pleased when she went missing in 1911."
Daniel's face hardened. "No, after that, we decided we couldn't entirely rely on the Muggles and it looks like we needed another lesson."
So they didn't know about the man with the hat, either. Interesting, Ginny thought as Daniel continued.
"I spoke with my commander and he has someone at the Louvre right now, confirming the … ah … situation."
"What about tracing it?" Harry asked, clearly in Auror mode. "I didn't find any evidence of magic, but Lisa wasn't able to tell us how long ago the theft occurred. It may have been a thoroughly Muggle operation."
Ginny listened as Harry and Daniel batted questions and answers back and forth, discussing the merits of Muggle security systems and tapes versus magical tracking and traps, thinking of how bereft and lonely Lisa must be in that place full of beautiful, silent things.
She was still ruminating on what she would do if she were a magical portrait trapped in a Muggle museum when a silvery horned owl landed right in the middle of their table, nearly upsetting the wine glasses. "Ah, Thomas," Daniel said, touching it on the wickedly sharp beak, eyes going blank as he listened to the message.
"Well?" Harry asked as the owl exploded into silvery mist.
"They found no evidence of magical tampering."
"The tapes?"
Daniel held up his hand and nodded. "Oui. The tapes show a man painting the subject—our suspected forger—around three weeks ago."
"But not the switch?" Harry asked, tapping the side of his nose in thought.
"No. There is a curious, unexplained gap in the tape, however."
"Inside job?"
Daniel shrugged and held up his finger for the bill. "Perhaps," he said, shaking his head when Harry reached for his wallet. "Non, this was a consultation, was it not? The Ministry will get this one."
They stood up from the table and the two men shook hands. Ginny extended hers, surprised when Daniel bowed over it instead of shaking it. "It was an honor to meet you," he said when he straightened back up. "I have to apologize for teaching your husband such deplorable language!"
Ginny laughed at the expression on his face, completely charmed by the affable Frenchman. "It's no worse than the language he normally uses! Please let us know if you hear anything? Lisa is so very lonely without him."
"Of course." Daniel turned to Harry and gave him a snappy salute before striding off, quickly losing himself in the crowd.
Ginny took Harry's hand and squeezed. "Well, another free meal," she said, grinning up at him. "Who else do you know in this city?"
"Hmmph," Harry grunted, squeezing her hand back. "What do you want to do with the rest of the day, love?"
"Well, since it seems we can't reunite a couple of lovers, how about we go look at some old piles of rock? I've always wanted to see Notre Dame."
"A church? I don't think they have any nude statues for you to sketch there," Harry said as they headed away from the cafe.
Ginny bumped Harry's hip with hers, her heart thumping with the sheer joy of being with him in this enchanting city. She shivered at the memory of his face from last night, his features contorted in pleasure as he thrust into her. "I'm sure I'll find something interesting to look at."