Al brushed his paintbrush over the canvas, the midnight blue adding a level of depth and mystery to the water colour picture of the Black Lake and the Forbidden Forest. The Giant Squids tentacle popped out of the murky depths in a lazy salute. The sixth year refused the urge to paint this detail in, rather like when he had resisted the urge to paint in the hippogriff and it's baby that had strolled along the edge of the was one of Al's many muggle paintings, even down to the paint. After drifting apart from the family for many years, the sixteen year old Al had cut all ties and had ended up walking around Hyde Park, dragging his trunk behind him.
He shoved his trunk up to the parks wall, sat on top and rested his head back against the railings.
"Hey kid, are you hear to sell or what?"
Al jumped at the interruption and turned his head. The man looking at him was in his fifties and had his hands tucked into his money belt.
"Excuse me" Al was in shock (and slightly disturbed but for other reasons). This bloke was talking to him and hadn't even mentioned his dad yet.
"Well it's obvious you're an artist kid..." He waved his eyes towards Al's trunk which had been painstakingly died in muted browns, greens, greys and blacks. (The summer of third year, when James was being more unbearable than usual). It portrayed an idealised picture of Hogwarts, it even included a thesteral in mid flight, thought he had never seen them himself. "...and well this place is kind of known as being a great source of young talent"
"Huh?"
"Christ! You really have no idea do you kid. Well basically artists come here and sell their paintings of the railings"
"Really?"
"Yeh kid. I'm here to shop myself, used to be a trader and moved up market. Got myself a studio, gallery and everything..."
It had all sort of spiralled from there really. Jon was Al's exclusive muggle agent and it was beneficial for both men. Al used the money to pay for Hogwarts and at the end of each term presented Jon with his latest works. Al's work had made Jon's gallery one of the most exclusive in London, especially when the works of the elusive A.S.P. were on display. Al had even sold some of his paintings through the gallery to family. He had been dropping of his latest work to the studio and popped his head in the gallery to say hi to Jane the receptionist and life saver on many occasions. He had had to make a quick escape when he saw his Uncle Percy come in to pick up a picture, ironically of the fields behind the Burrow. It was times like this Al was glad he had stuck to just his initials. Al had got it out of Jane later that Percy had bought the picture because it reminded him of where he had gotten married, The Burrow! Add the Potter name and the game would have been up for him.
"What's wrong?"
Al snapped out of his thoughts, an action not unusual for the boy's easily distracted artistic side.
"Nothing, just...you know...thinking"
"Merlin Potter! Oh I almost got the highest GPA in the year again, but for ROSE! Seriously I swear that girl has to have a time turner to do that much work ..."
Al let his best friend carry on, complaining about Rose was one of Scorp's favourite past times. Not because they were secretly in love with each other as some idiots tried to say but because they actually really hated each other. Rose felt, that if not for Scorp becoming Al's friend at the feast, Al would have pushed to be resorted (and as a Potter probably would have been) and he would have joined her in Gryffindor. Sadly her views had been joined by some rather harsh words about Scorp's lineage. Well Al was there, (he didn't even know his cousin know those words) and he couldn't really blame Scorp for not liking her after that. She had become rather full of herself and her own self importance and intelligence lately.
"...Al are you listening to me at all or have you decided to live in your head permanently"
Al's eyes refocused on the blond boy. His hair was astray after his rant, this one sign of utter annoyance marring his otherwise perfect appearance.
"Sorry mate, I was just thinking how much bigger the Great Hall will have to be known to accommodate the constant inflation of Rose's ego alongside the rest of the clans inflated heads."
Scorp burst out laughing
"Oh Merlin! That's a good one; I'll have to save that. Anyway we can moan about Rose later I've got something more important to talk to you about first"
"Excuse me?"
"What?"
"I could have sworn you just said something was more important than bitching about someone who is related to me"
"Why are you so into that anyway?"
"You have meet most of my family haven't you?"
"Yeh, most of the school aged ones anyway"
"That's why! But back to what's more important right"
"Oh yeh, right." Well remember when you were round mine in the holiday and you saw that hall of pictures"
"The one where they all creepily look like you. What about it?"
"Well that's kind of like a family tradition"
"It's a family tradition to own a house with a corridor long enough to fit three Hungarian horntails in end to end and still have room to cower ?"
Scorp rolled his eyes at Al's own brand of biting sarcastic humour.
"Not the room you nutter, then again there probably is a tradition about owning a house with so many bloody corridors..."
"Also known as inheriting Malfoy manor"
Scorp groaned
"Anyway I was talking about the pictures..."
"Ahhh..."
"Yeh"
"So it's a family tradition huh..."
"Yeh"
"...to own pictures of your ancient relatives looking constipated."
Scorp pulled his knees up to his chest and started to bang his head against them.
"Merlin! This is difficult enough as it is aaarrrrhhh... I know you hate doing them but...Merlin you are such a...a PRAT sometimes..."
Al turned back to his painting Scorp would finish his rant soon. He'd run out of breath eventually. The red faced Scorp rested his head back on his knees.
"Relax mate, I get it. Calm down. You have to get a portrait of yourself done. What's the big deal? You're worried about telling me, the artist, that you're going to have your portrait done...And you're calling me the prat. So who's painting it anyway, I can't see Cissy excepting anything less than the best for her Pwessus Scorpy Worpy"
Scorp burst out laughing.
"ME! We all know that Grandmother Cissy is all about her Darling Albus."
"DONT CALL ME THAT!"
Scorp's laughter ran out across the lake but he smartly dropped the subject.
The relationship between Al and Cissy had sprung out of nowhere. Draco Malfoy had been furious when a thirteen year old Al had shown up on his door step having run away for the first time. A family dinner at the Burrow had gotten out of hand and he hadn't meant to turn Ron's hair Slytherin colours, but he had lost his temper. Al had refused to go home and Draco had him by the scruff of the neck about to throw him into the floo fire when Cissy had intervened, muttering about a family debt and some people called Siri and the Potter boy. Draco had been forced into letting Al stay overnight; well from about three am anyway, the time might have put Draco in a bad mood as well. Draco eventually calmed down and he had gone round to the frantic Potter's the next day to explain the situation (that Al and Scorp had barricaded themselves in the manors guest wing and were refusing to come out till Al was allowed to spend the rest of the summer there). The boy's obvious friendship and joyous nature around each other had eventually allowed the Malfoy's to relax around Al (and loss the stuffy front) and see him as part of the family. This had resulted in Al learning about Cissy's secret obsession, muggle art. Particularly anything rare and valuable. The Malfoy Villa in the South of France was full of pieces she had collected over the years, more since she had gained control of a large amount of the Malfoy holdings (and profits) on the continent after Lucius' incarceration and death by kiss several years ago. Al had even advised her on what to buy a couple of times, after Cissy had realised he hadn't just an artistic eye but an art appraisal eye.
Al blinked out of his thoughts, he had to stop doing that, and realised Scorp still had his head rested on his knees.
"So" he asked "who's the lucky painter?"
"It wasn't my idea, and I know it's not your thing but Grandmother Cissy insisted. Why have a dog and bark yourself, I think she said..."
"Get to the point mate"
Scorp froze and just blurted it out
"? Willyoudoit?"
"Pardon?"
"...will you do it?"
Al's mind went into overdrive.
CRAP!
There was a reason Al didn't paint portraits and this was it. Al was an honest painter, his work was basically a display of all his emotions towards the subject and his mood in that situation, he couldn't hide them. Al didn't paint portraits because he knew he would then have to eventually paint Scorp. Then he wouldn't be hide his feeling for the stunning blond, if he painted him the truth would be out. They wouldn't be locked down behind gates of...
...It's wrong; he's your best friend...
...He doesn't feel the same way...
...Look at all the skanky girls after him...he loves it...
"Please Al; I don't trust anyone else not to make me look constipated"
Scorp tried to lighten the atmosphere but gave up and reverted back to begging
"Please Al. Please!"
Al knew this was it, he had to tell him. Scorp never begged, ever. Al couldn't say no. The question now was when Scorp found out about Al's crush, ok full blown obsession; now or when the picture was done. Al washed his brush out and placed it next to his pallet.
"Scorp, I have to talk to you, ...I have to tell you something"
Al turned to his friend, focusing serious green eyes on him. Scorp straightened up and returned the serious gaze.
"You're not going to do it are you."
"What?"
"The picture, you're not going..."
"No! ...I'm going to do the portrait"
Scorp visibly relaxed and he settled back against trunk of the tree offering Al shade.
"Thank Merlin!"
"That's not what I...wanted? ...no, no...Needed to talk to you about"
Scorp tensed again at the seriousness of his normally laid back friends tone and attitude.
"Al what is it? Is something wrong ... Are you ill..."
"OH BUGGER IT"
Al grabbed the blonds head and pulled it to his own and poured all his emotion into the kiss. Al broke the contact and with both hands still gripping head, fingers musing the perfect blond locks. The desperate green eyes sought out the blue eyes, the hint of midnight blue in their depths. Shocked, Scorp didn't break eye contact as he raised a pale hand to his bruising lips. As the cold fingers touched the burning skin Scorp looked down in shock at the contact, breaking the spell. Al let go his fingers itching to get back amongst the blond strands. He turned and finding himself surrounded by his art supplies and his exit blocked by Scorp, Al retreated into his childhood escape. He dragged his worn, much used and abused fountain pen out and started to doodle on a spare bit of parchment. The riot of colour displaying his emotional turmoil. Scorp came to his senses at the sound of the scratching nib.
"Al..."
"Albus."
Scorp looked at the best friend he had ever had, his closest ally.
"Al, look at me..."
Scorp grabbed the pen out of Al's hand and chucked it next to the abandoned brushes.
"Al...Please...look at me."
Al started to pick at his tie hanging lose around his neck, picking at the small burn left from a 'friendly' duel in the corridors with James last week.
"OH, FOR MERLIN'S SAKE ALBUS"
Perfectly manicured fingers lent in and ripped the tie from the rough paint splattered hands and used Al's surprise to pull him round to face him. A cocky smile rested on the blonds face.
"Finally!" he said, before he grabbed Al and pulled him into a passionate kiss.