Replicas of the next two paintings were released to the public for sale after the interview. With the first, it was clear that what Draco Malfoy had said about it being of poorer quality than the others, was true. It was much shorter than the others; far shorter than the three post-war works and shorter even then the second painting. It was literally only the thirty-second loop of me catching the snitch seen in the collage and that was it. I couldn't tell what was wrong with the brushstrokes, because it looked fine to my eye, but the experts agreed it was inferior work. Maybe it was a little blurrier than the others, with crisp lines materializing out of a jumble, but for an eleven-year-old, it was impressive.
With the second, it was obvious that Draco was the painter. He was featured in a larger part of the scene than was apparent from the snippet in the collage. It started with the four of us kids meeting Hagrid and fang, followed our journey through the forest as Draco and I split from the others, through our discovery of the unicorn and the creature drinking its blood, and ended as the scene went off with a screaming Draco running away in terror. There was no indication of what had happened to me, how my scar had burned, or how the centaur had rescued me that night. This was Draco's story; I was just the hero.
Like the other portraits, I tried my best to avoid them, but still, they were everywhere. The only thing that made them fade into the background, was that at the second anniversary of the war, Draco released the next two portraits in his collection! The snake scene again turned out to feature him more than I'd initially realized, because he was the one to conjure the snake.
The one of me at the end of second year though, didn't show him at all. It seemed to be a stolen moment of sadness that had struck him for some reason. When asked about it by reporters, he said he just dwelled on it a lot over the summer, because he couldn't understand why I was so sad to be going home. That sent Skeeter off with her speculations, again, reprinting what little had gotten out to the public about my life with the Dursleys. Thankfully I hadn't spilled my guts too much about it to anyone other than Ron and Hermione, so it was little enough.
The second year portraits were followed six months later by the third year ones, which I managed to avoid, due to a prolonged case tracking down a fugitive overseas. That was a mercy, because they included the Dementor one and I did not want to relieve that memory. And word was that the Buckbeak one continued past me riding the Hippogriff to include Draco's provocation and then attack by that same Hippogriff. I heard it was graphic too, showing the arm sliced to the bone before Madam Pomphrey minded it. People talked then of how lucky it was that she had been able to mend it, because otherwise that arm would never have been able to produce that portrait or the ones that came after.
By that time, Draco's dragon paintings were selling at exorbitant prices, due to the fact that he was actually selling the originals and not reprints. Everyone wanted an original Malfoy and the original Malfoy Potters weren't up for sale. They settled for the Malfoy Dragons and began a pissing contest to buy them.
Then came the fourth year portraits released on the third anniversary of the war. The one of me fighting the dragon wasn't too bad. Me dancing was embarrassing, but it also turned out to be funny, when the full portrait revealed Draco to have been watching me so intently. He'd clearly been as obsessed with me in fourth year as I was with him in sixth.
I volunteered for an undercover assignment in the far north wilderness in Scotland, hoping that it would have me away for the rest of the series. It worked, in that I never really had to suffer through seeing the fifth year collection, including the one of me grieving after Sirius' death. But unfortunately, sixth year's bathroom was still being talked about when I returned. Being away for the war anniversary and its unveiling turned out to bite me in the but with the press.
The bathroom portrait was bad. I remembered the incident being horrible, but the portrait was even more gruesome than I remembered. Worse, since it was the second last to be released and far more telling than the rest, it was the one that stayed in the public consciousness and never seemed to fade away. The very last one, the one of me and my friends escaping Malfoy Manor on Easter was a dud in comparison to the impact the bathroom one made.
I hadn't hidden what I'd done. When I gave interviews, I was honest about the fact that I'd nearly killed Draco Malfoy in a bathroom during sixth year with a curse I didn't know. But the thing was that very few people had seen it and those who had, never gave more details than that. Most people figured he deserved it. A few people even knew about the Cruciutus he'd been trying for and doubly excused my actions in their minds. He was a Death Eater and tried an Unforgiveable and the public refused to see me for the monster I was.
Even after the bathroom portrait was released, public sympathy was still on my side. Sure there were those that admitted that I was completely in the wrong, but even they excused me for being the fucking savior. I wanted to punch the lot of them to get them to shut up, because they didn't know what they were talking about. Yes, they could see the whole thing from Draco's point of view in their replica portraits, the bestselling of the bunch, and my emotional pain and horror at what I'd done was evident on my face, but they didn't know. That was my personal moment of horror and I didn't want to share.
What was more, was that I didn't want to relive it or to learn that it had been worse than I'd realized. My perspective, holding him as he bled out, limited my view of the gruesome wounds. The wounds shown in the painting were deep and made me cringe to look upon them. My throat always closed tight when I saw him bleeding out. The painting spared no detail, starting with Draco's breakdown before I entered, and following him to the hospital wing after Snape had healed him. Only Snape hadn't fully healed him, which I hadn't know. I'd been off hiding the book, getting together with Ginny, and hiding the obvious from Snape. I hadn't even bothered to visit the Hospital Wing as Draco lay bleeding and in pain.
I wished that portrait was a comic, if only for the narration the words would provide. No one in the Hospital Wing scene explained what was going on, how bad the injuries were, or where the blood was coming from. It was just Draco crying in a bloody bed, wearing a bloody gown. Pomphrey was treating him, but not fixing him. For some reason, it seemed like she was letting him heal on his own. Maybe Sectumsempra couldn't be completely cured by magic; maybe it took time too.
Author's note: So that's the paintings and the background we need to move forward with the story. Please note the passing of time in this chapter—years have gone by—I wanted there to be time for the dynamic between Harry and Draco to have shifted. Now Harry isn't fresh out of the final battle and Draco is a very famous painter, which I think evens the playing field.
Up next Harry will finally confront Draco about the paintings and learn what happened when Draco was taken to the hospital wing after the Sectumsempra. Any guesses what it could be?