Written for...

Assignment 5 - |Home Economics & Domestic Magic| - Task 2: Pancakes - Write about something that takes a long time to do.

Insane House - 864. Trait - Virtuoso

Creativity Month - |Muggle!AU| - Artist!AU

Jewel Challenge - Iolite Necklace: Write about someone who expresses themselves in a creative way

Writing Club - CYB - (character) Ron Weasley

Writing Club - |Liza's Loves| - The Evillustrator - Write an artist!AU

Artist!AU

"Sit still," Neville urges. "It's not going to take that long. I just have to paint your legs and then I'll be done."

"But I've been sitting here for an hour!" Ron whines. "Does it really take that long to paint one bloody portrait?"

"Yes," Neville snapped, his patience with his client wearing thin. "Now just sit still, or I'll tell Hermione that you sold her favorite bra at the yard sale last month."

A look of horror crossed Ron's features. "You wouldn't."

"Try me." He smirked and Ron stiffened. Evidently, he'd thought Neville wouldn't resort to blackmail, but apparently, he had underestimated Neville's underhanded tactics of persuasion.

"Blimey, Neville, you're a devil in disguise." He stilled and fell silent, his lips pursed begrudgingly. Neville smiled serenely and resumed painting as his subject grew more uncomfortable by the minute. His mouth remained shut, however, which proved he was resolved to stay silent.

-:-

"All done!" declared Neville proudly no less than twenty minutes later. He scooted back his stool a few inches and admired the masterpiece he had just painstakingly painted.

"It's a shame I have to auction it off," he said mournfully. "I'm almost partial to this piece. I think it turned out magnificent. Look, Ron."

There was a series of cracks as Ron stood up, grimacing. "This had better be worth it," he grumbled, limping over to the easel.

Neville rolled his eyes with irritation, but otherwise remained forbearing. "Well, what do you think?" he prompted, prodding Ron. "Is it decent?"

Ron's cerulean eyes enlarged, his jaw quite literally hitting the floor, which could have been interpreted as repulsion or astonishment. "Neville, mate, did you really paint this?" He took a step back, tilting his head.

He snorted incredulously. "No, it was my cat," he replied dryly, his eyes focused on Ron as he gauged his reaction. "Just tell me, is it good or bad?"

Ron's attention was transfixed on the painting, so Neville's question went in one ear and out the other. It was so lifelike, the colors, the background, Ron himself—Neville had overemphasized his hair; it looked more like fire, but Ron was fine with, more than fine, actually. The shadows cast over his face created an aura of enigma, yet the smoldering expression said otherwise.

In other words, the work was mesmerizing.

"Bloody hell," he breathed. "No wonder you're the most coveted artist in the city. This is bloody phenomenal."

Neville flushed under his praise. "Thank you, but it wasn't easy with you bellyaching the entire time."

"Hey, that was totally uncalled for! At least I shut up after you told me to!"

"...Yeah, after I threatened you."

Ron groaned, shoving him lightly. "Shut up."

"Love you too."

498 words