Chapter Six

"The next really famous wizarding painter was, as you've probably guessed, Jasper Johns. Other famous painters in between were Muggles of great skill, and most wizarding painters during that long drought were either not very good or not very famous. But I know you've all heard of Jasper Johns and seen his work."

There was an awkward pause; even Hermione looked uncertainly toward Ginny, who had never even heard the name Jasper Johns. She shrugged at her friend and looked at Roger, who also looked lost.

"None of you know Jasper?" asked Oliver, observing the mental chaos with a face of slight despair. "Come on, Hermione, not even you?"

Hermione shook her head, brows drawn to the center of her forehead. "I haven't even heard the name," she said, "which is saying something. I have a very extensive knowledge base."

"I think anyone in school with you knows that," Roger muttered, rolling his eyes. Ginny thought about jumping off her stool and giving him a piece of her mind, but then she realized she felt the same way about Hermione and stayed on her seat. Hermione had no reaction; either she hadn't heard or she was pretending she hadn't heard.

"Well, that's your homework, which I hate to give, by the way," Oliver said. "I want every single one of you to bring in your favorite Jasper Johns painting to class on Thursday. Well, I guess what I really want you to do is get a favorite Jasper Johns painting and then bring it in. That means you have to learn something about him in the next three days, and see enough of his paintings to have a favorite. That's at least four. If any of you have computers, just do it at home; if not, go to a library and check out a book about him, there's plenty to be found."

"Would a google search be appropriate?" asked Ginny.

"At least google his paintings and read his wikipedia page," Oliver replied, a rather saucy edge to his voice. "I'm not looking for expert-level knowledge, just a general idea of who he is and what he did. But I'm about to tell you more about him so really I guess I'm just cheating myself in the end. Jasper Johns followed Picasso, who was, surprisingly, not a wizard. He was a magician with his paint, no one's arguing with that, but he was one hundred percent Muggle. However, he was closely associated with a few witches in his time; they served as Muse types for him and their perspectives partially inspired his painting style. But Jasper Johns followed Picasso in complete confusion only. If you had ever seen one of his paintings, you'd know exactly what I'm talking about. He uses a lot of color and not a lot of realism. Roger's painting actually looks like an incredibly bad Jasper Johns imitation attempt- but don't worry, Roger, I'm sure if you were actually trying to imitate Jasper Johns, you would have done much better. By the way," Oliver interrupted himself, "do you know how people sometimes have names where you have to say the first and the last ones together? Jasper Johns is one of those people. You'll learn as you get to know more about him and use his name more and more often. Anyway, he was inspired a lot by his magic, but more so by the darker side of those powers. He was operating during some of Voldemort's reign, for lack of a better word, which explains some of his more horrifying paintings. He saw a lot of the carnage, while not being directly involved, and he put that down on canvas. A lot of our creative war record comes from Jasper Johns."

There was a pause. "If that's so," Hermione said timidly, "why have none of us even heard of him? I mean, I'm not questioning his artistic talent, since I have no idea what his paintings look like, but I guess my question is more about why we don't know who he is if he's so critical to the war record."

Oliver grinned at Hermione. "You've accidentally stumbled onto one of my biggest pet peeves, Hermione," he said. "I think that the Ministry of Magic was far too keen on reassuring people that Jasper Johns, one of the most famous artists of the twentieth century, was nothing but that- a great artist. They released every single one of his paintings to museums anonymously, although Jasper Johns left them to the Ministry in order to help ease children into education about Voldemort's time in power. Sure his paintings were dramatic and sometimes scary, but it's certainly easier for kids to look at an abstract painting than to hear horrible stories about how their aunt or grandfather was horrifically tortured and murdered by Voldemort and his followers. Jasper Johns desperately wanted to be a wizarding hero, and the Ministry took that away from him. They'd rather sweep everything under the rug and hide everything they could from the Muggles. And that, Hermione, is why you don't know who Jasper Johns is, or why he's incredibly famous in a certain section of the wizarding community."

There was a silence. Ginny felt slightly cheated that she hadn't known who Jasper Johns was, but she was sure she'd get over it. In fact, now that Oliver was no longer talking, Ginny glanced up at the clock. She was surprised to find it was already almost nine thirty; she felt that the last hour and a half had been a kind of a fugue. She felt almost like a real artist, letting time slip by in the pursuit of creativity and history.

She needed to snap out of it.

Oliver glanced at the clock as well. "All right, guys, it's about time to wrap up for tonight, which I'm sure you're glad about. I promise I won't talk that much during any other lesson, and I also promise we'll be doing painting almost exclusively from now on, okay? So you can all come back if you like, it won't be this boring again. So I'll hopefully see you on Thursday!"

Ginny looked at Hermione, who looked at Roger, who had grabbed his canvas and was heading toward a cabinet. The women followed his lead somewhat uncertainly, occasionally glancing toward Oliver, who was unhelpfully pondering his own canvas.

As Ginny put her finished painting away in the cabinet, just as Hermione had buttoned the first button on her coat and Roger had pushed through the door and toward the stairs, she stopped. "Oliver," she said, "you never showed us your canvas." She turned around to face her art teacher, who looked up at her from his contemplation, eyes still blank.

"Oh, right, I didn't," he said. "I actually just forgot, which I know you probably don't believe, but I'm being honest. Do you," he added, a strange kind of shyness or timidity in his voice, "do you want to see it now?"

Ginny nodded. Hermione had stopped doing up her coat at the third button and was standing, slightly pink-cheeked and a little breathless, both with suspense and suspended activity. Oliver smiled at both of them and turned his easel around slowly.

Ginny stared. "What the hell."

It was a painting of her. Her hair was perfectly rendered in her wannabe artistic ponytail, her eyes literally sparkled, and her mouth was quirked like it always was when she was concentrating, like when she was putting on her makeup in the morning or when she was finishing up another row of stitches when she felt elderly and wanted to do knitting. Her skin and freckles seemed to have been lifted directly from a photograph, they were so perfectly accurate. The background was blurred, and she could only see herself up to her shoulders, which were painted bare and freckled as they were beneath her old t-shirt. She looked incredible, not because she was so stunningly beautiful in the painting, but because she had been rendered so joyfully and in such immaculate detail.

Ginny could feel Hermione's eyes on her and she tore her gaze from the painting to look at her friend. Hermione's eyes were round as saucers and Ginny could practically see her thoughts.

As she turned around again, Ginny could see that Oliver too was looking at her, but he seemed nervous and expectant, as though she were going to pronounce judgment on his painting. She met his gaze and sighed. "Maybe you could tell me why on earth you decided to paint me out of the billions of things you've seen in your life," she said.

"You were in front of me," Oliver replied simply. "I consider myself an artist, Ginny, and I see paintings or drawings or sculptures in everything around me. Today it was you, another day it could be Roger, and another day it could be the canvas in front of me itself."

"Yeah, I get it, 'don't be flattered,'" Ginny said sarcastically, squinting at the painting. "Still it's a really good likeness for someone who was just 'looking for art.'"

"Do you want it?" asked Oliver. "You could give it to your girlfriend for Valentine's Day," he added, winking at Hermione.

Ginny whirled around to face Oliver as Hermione's face turned red. "Oh, we're not… That is we're… I have a boyfriend," she finished lamely. "Hermione's practically married."

"Yes, and not to Ginny," added Hermione hastily. "No offense," she said, shooting Ginny a glance.

"None taken," Ginny said.

"Oh," Oliver said, seemingly unabashed by his mistake. "Well I'm willing to donate it as a boyfriend gift too, although that's not quite as cool. I won't lie to you."

Ginny just stared at him and shook her head. "You're something else," she said after a moment. "Yeah, I guess I don't really want some guy's painting of me to give to my boyfriend for Valentine's Day. But it is really good so maybe you could hang it in your house or sell it to a magazine or something. Profit off of it somehow, it's too nice to leave alone."

"Yes, Ginny, I really want a painting that I did myself of a girl in my art class in my house," Oliver replied wryly. "I'll figure something out, I guess. Don't worry yourself about it."

"I wasn't planning on it," Ginny said, rolling her eyes as she wound her scarf around her neck.

There was a moment of bustling as Oliver put away his canvas and Hermione and Ginny finished putting on their outerwear. Just as Hermione was turning at the door to say good-bye to Oliver, he addressed both of them.

"Do you ladies want to go out and get a drink?" he asked, looking between Hermione and Ginny as he grabbed his own coat. "It's been a while since we were at school together and I was just curious about what you've all been up to."

Hermione looked to Ginny, who paused for a moment and then shook her head. "Sorry, Oliver," she said. "I told Harry I'd be home tonight. Maybe on Thursday, though, all right? You're not the only curious one," she added, throwing him a smile. Hermione too smiled and waved a little as the two exited the room.

"Did you and Harry have plans for tonight?" Hermione asked, her eyes slightly widened. "You'd never turn down time out of the house just to go home at nine thirty."

"I made him eat pizza for dinner again, Hermione," Ginny replied as they exited the building. "I owe it to him to be home on time."