And now, third in line, Dean Thomas! I really like Dean, although there isn't much about him in the books. As an artist, I can relate to him : smile :
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Dean is a lot more observant than people give him credit for.
He is an artist more than anything else; talented, yes, in his ability to sketch things and catch them on paper, but he knows that that's not what makes an artist. Not really. Precise hands can be achieved with practice, but the soul, the eyes— that's what really defines a true artist. The eyes he looks at the world with.
He has to know what to look for, but more importantly, how to see: beauty in ordinary everyday things; like the green of a ribbon against vibrant red hair, or the flash of pale fingers half-curled from under a dark sleeve. He needs to notice how the play of sunlight through leaves creates a quilt of colour on the ground, and how the graceful touch of a palm to a chin creates a graceful curving line, just like that.
Dean notices things. He notices the way Ron and Hermione look at each other, the fond and surprisingly gentle expressions they wear when they think no one is looking. He notices Terry Boot's awkward and jerky movements as he peers anxiously at the professor's back before he throws tiny, neatly folded notes at Padma during Ancient Runes. He notices the twinkle is gone from Dumbledore's eyes as the Headmaster sweeps his gaze over the students at dinner.
He notices Harry and Draco Malfoy, of course; but then again, who doesn't?
He doesn't get drawn into arguments like Ron does, or like the other Gryffindors do. He can't help but look at everything with an artist's eyes; it's by now second nature to him. When Ron complains about Malfoy's insults, Dean thinks about the way Malfoy's lips curl when he smirks. When Neville once again finds himself in a body bond, Dean thinks about the way the shadows move over Harry's jaw when it tightens as he looks at Neville. But when it's Harry and Malfoy together, Dean's hands itch to pick up a pencil, a notebook, to start drawing immediately.
He doesn't think anyone else has actually noticed how physically alike they are. Both have the same proud lines to the back; Harry's a little more self confident, Malfoy's a little more arrogant. The same narrow build, thin shoulders, long, graceful limbs and the same height. Both have handsome faces, delicate, almost angular; Malfoy a little more pointed, Harry a little more sharp.
They have the same hands; beautiful, long-fingered hands, perfect for grasping the Snitch. While Harry bites his fingernails, Malfoy's nails are immaculate. They stand the same, with the chin sticking a little forward, as though constantly challenging the world. They copy each other, without realizing it; Malfoy has taken to tugging at his hair when frustrated, a gesture uniquely Harry. Harry sometimes quirks an eyebrow, almost mocking, and the side of his mouth curls a little, although the gesture looks more annoyed and less mean on him.
Dean isn't sure who started the habit of chewing on his bottom lip when deep in thought; it is so far in the past now that it doesn't seem to matter.
He watches calmly, almost detached, as they shout at each other again, over this thing or another. Their hands are fisted and shaking at their sides, their faces are pale with anger, teeth bared in an identical snarl. They are similar, in their lean, teenage bodies, and in their rage. Yet they are so different: in their hair, black against white; and in their badges, Gryffindor against Slytherin.
Dean looks at them, all barely suppressed energy, all burning, dark eyes and heavy breaths, and thinks: God, they make such a beautiful picture together.
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So, my lovely readers: What do you think? I am eager to hear your comments, good or bad.
