A Work of Art

Pansy arrived at Ron’s gallery at the time he gave her. His art was displayed along the walls. Full paintings to coal sketches, and sculptures. Ron truly was an artist. He specialized in both animal and human form.



“Over here.” She looked up and saw him at the top of a staircase. The magical barrier at the foot slid aside and let her ascend the stairs. Ron was watching her and her eyes widened as she approached him. He was wearing jeans, with paint splatters and no shoes. He had on a work black t shirt with more paint stains then the jeans. She could easily see the muscles in his arms and the shape of his body under the thin cotton t shirt.



She watched his ass move under his jeans as she walked behind him through an open door. She looked around at the room where Ron brought feelings, emotions and fantasies to life. It was devoid of anything on the walls, no pictures, not paint, nothing but plain white walls. There was scattered chairs in several styles, and a screen set up with some clothes draped over it. A large trunk and dresser were next to the screen, and it looked like a gypsy had lost her trunk. Spare clothe and fabrics were scattered about.



One wall was dominated but a miniature stage of some sort and a background wall. It had a step that rose it up higher, holding its subject to view. She knew instantly Ron would be posing her on this focal point. Not more then 6 feet away an easel stood holding a canvas. Scattered around the floor and on a table beside the easel were what looked like dozens of small paint cans, brushes and what looked like knives and sticks.



Ron closed the door. “You can drop your cloak and bag over there.” He told her, gesturing to one of the many chairs. She dropped them and walked over to him. He was digging in one of the trunks until he found what he wanted.



It was a slip of some kind, almost an undergarment. With a wave of his wand, Ron changed it from blue to a deep red. “Here,” he said handing it to her, “you can change behind the screen.”



She emerged a few moments later in the slip, it stopped just past her ass and was held up but two straps at her shoulders. Her breasts were covered in lace, but it was only partial coverage.



“What emotion am I?” She asked. Her eyes were open as she looked at the once plain white and lifeless stage. It was covered with a soft duvet and draped from behind in scarlet curtains. It looked like a miniature bedroom, with it’s shiny pillows scattered about in various sizes.



“Do you know about the series I’m painting?” He asked turned around and holding out a hand. She took his hand and led her to the platform.



“I know you have painted six so far and there is one more, beyond that nothing.” She sat patiently as he assessed her face and hair.



“Well there are seven total, it’s a religious belief among muggles.” He took out his wand and using magic removed any dust or flakes from the outside from her hair. “It’s called the seven deadly sins.” A fine mist came from his wand, giving her hair a slight shine. “They are seven emotions that people should avoid in life because they can mean the damnation of your soul.” He ran his fingers through her hair and Pansy closed her eyes at the feel. It didn’t go unnoticed by Ron.



“What’s the last emotion?” She asked opening her eyes. Ron was close enough to smell. His cologne invaded her senses, and she watched his eyes meet hers.



“Lust.” He whispered. Pansy felt his voice to her toes. She swallowed and shifted her eyes for a moment. When she looked back he was still watching her. She stayed still as he looked at her.



Over the next hour Ron moved Pansy from position to position, making rough sketches in coal. She stayed still, he didn’t ask her for anything other then to move her body a certain way. That’s all. She lifted her foot, reclined, looked this way and that, twisted turned and shifted as he asked.



“You can put your clothes back on.” He told her taking his sketches and moving to the easel.



“Is that all?” She asked, moving to the screen to put her clothes back on.



“No,” he called to her as she changed, “I’ll explain the process to you when your dressed.”



Fully dressed she came out and saw that he had laid out all the drawings on a small table. She came up and stood beside him. They were rough sketches of her pose, but most of them had no head, no toes or hands, just how her body was placed. Two of them were more detailed. “I think these two poses are the best, I may use one of them. Pansy looked at the two that had hands and feet but a faceless head.



In one she was on her stomach, cradling a pillow to her chest, the other she was sitting up, her ankles crossed up near her ass. She nodded. “How many times do I come here?” She asked.



“About four or five times, a few hours at a time. Can you hold those positions for hours on end?”



“Yes I can.” She assured him.



“Good, this is the first step, sketches and choosing a position and setting. I think this works though.” He said gesturing to the platform.



“Well red works with lust.” She agreed.



“It also works with you.” She looked at him confused. “The dark red against pale white skin and black hair, the color combination with you is perfect.” She hadn’t thought about that. He smiled at her realization. “The next time you come here with be to finalize the position I want and decide on details as well as how you will look.”



She nodded. “I don’t know how I can be lustful though, I’m not sure I’ve really felt that way.” She admitted.



He thought she might, but he smiled. “I’ll help you with that, I now what I want to see, I’ll coach you through it. The painting itself will take about ten days after that. Once that’s done, I finish minor details on my own. I set it with a spell to dry and then when I’m satisfied, we will have an unveiling. It will be big one since this is the last painting and to be honest, the most taboo of all the sins.”



She nodded. “Are you sure you want to use me Ron? I hardly feel lustful.” She looked back up to see him staring at her.



“Trust me Pansy, I can’t use anyone but you for this painting.” He said softly. She felt a shiver run up her spine.



“Well, you’re the artist.” She said. She tried to hide her nervousness, but failed miserably.



“Let me show you something.” She followed him back down the stairs and to one of the sections in his gallery. He stopped at the first painting along a wall. “This is the first painting in the series.”



“It’s Hermione.” She gasped, shocked at the hostility of the girl in front of her.



“Wrath.” He said. Pansy could see it.



“Why make your best friend so angry though.” She asked.



He gave her a strange look. “Do you know how many times me and Harry have seen that look in our lives?” Pansy let out a laugh. they moved to the next painting. “Sloth.”



“Wow, Ron you managed to make her look depressed and pretty as the same time.” She truly was impressed.



“That’s why I used Luna. Her face is so peaceful, that all she had to do was drop the smile and she was still lovely. Most girls will think that sloth would be a form of anger or despair so they make faces that they think is appropriate. Sloth is more self neglect then depression so a more careless expression is called for.” They moved to the next painting.



“OH MY GODS, MILLICENT!” Pansy was shocked, Millicent had been her housemate and just as tough as Crabbe and Goyle. “Ron I’ve never seen her so sexy. This is amazing.”



“This is gluttony.” He said simply.



“Well I can see it that. My gods, those sweets, this painting makes me hungry.” Ron smiled. “Oh to be surrounded by….wait…..are those French treacle tarts? Oh Ron who supplied for this?”



Ron had to laugh. “I’ll get you some.”



“I’ll hold you to that.” She nodded and they moved to the next frame. “Your sister. Look at her. She was always a brave one. Is bravery an emotion to be avoided?”



“It’s not bravery, although I can see how it would look that way but then again, you know her personally. This is pride. I’ve heard two different versions of this story. They differed with this emotion, some stories using pride, others using vanity. I chose pride for my series. And I couldn’t think of anyone with more pride then Ginny.”



She nodded. “And your proud of her no doubt.” He smiled.



“That’s what the art critiques say.” They moved to the next portrait.



“Wow, Lavender looks amazing. Jealousy?”



“Close, envy.” She nodded. “And this one,” he said moving to Parvati’s portrait, “is greed.”



“Wow, Ron this must have taken a long time.” She looked closely at the stacks of galleons. They were neat piles they were all uneven in random patterns.



“It did, there’s a lot of detail in this one, I wanted to make sure it had everything I wanted it to have.” Pansy was awestruck. Even the ankle had its bells painted in great detail. Nothing was simplified.



Pansy looked up and saw the empty space. “I will go here?”



He nodded. “Pansy I chose the models I did for a reason.” She faced him, listening. “When Hermione gets angry, her glare takes over her whole body, she doesn’t just look at you, she stands a certain way and uses everything to show it. Luna I already explained. Millicent I used because of her frame, but I wanted her to be sexy and I knew she had it in her, for a girl who wears dark colors I knew pink would look perfect on her, it gave her confidence. She is a lovely woman and I wanted gluttony to look lovely, and not shameful. She did that.”



“And she did look wonderful.” Pansy agreed.



“Ginny I used more for my pride in her, Lavender and I used to date and she once admitted to me that she was often jealous of other girls who could look good with no charms or make up, she knew what envy was, she’d felt it. When I thought of greed, the first thing that came into my mind was jewels and money. I couldn’t help but think of Parvati and her sister with their jewels and saris. It was glamorous and gorgeous and just what I wanted.”



She nodded, all of these women looked fabulous. “But why me? I don’t understand. We’ve never had a history aside from school. That’s hardly lustful.”



“When I approached you at Diagon Alley, I had already been watching you for a few moments. You were lost in thought, in some daydream and your face was hypnotic. I couldn’t take my eyes off you. I don’t know what you were thinking, but you smirked and that sexy smile went right through me.”



She blushed, and looked away, but Ron stepped forward and took her shoulders. “I wanted you then, do you understand? You inspired lust in me, Pansy, that’s why I need to use you for this final painting.” She was too shocked to say anything.



“You are a beautiful woman Pansy and I want nothing more then to capture your beauty for all time. You inspire me Pansy, that’s why I need to paint you. No one else can inspire me this way, no one else can pose for this last painting. Only you can.”



She stared at him breathless. She had never inspired anyone before and Ron’s was a brilliant artist. Could she really be his vision? Could she deliver what he needed to finish his work?



“Will you still pose for me?” He asked her anxiously. He didn’t want her to pose if she was uncomfortable with him after his admission.



“Yes Ron, I will pose for you.” She turned to the door and opened it then called over her shoulder. “Tomorrow?”



“Yes, tomorrow.” He answered then watched her walk out the door.