The Portrait Chronicles

Well, hello there! Didn't expect to see you back so soon! No, my name is not Eowyn, it's Mairwen. I thought you would remember.

I suppose you want to hear another story? You're turning into a right sap, you know. But it's no matter. I have the perfect story for you.

You see, there once was a sixth year Gryffindor boy. He was a bit famous, had this interesting scar. Apparently, he had a bit of a run in with some evil wizard. Oh, I see you know the one I'm talking about. Harry Potter really was a most amazing boy.

Would you like to hear about the time I "interfered" with his love life? Dumbledore wasn't too happy, let me tell you. Said that he should be concentrating on Defeating The Dark Lord. Yes, he said it with capital letters and all. But it is my strong opinion that a bit of romance never harmed anyone. Especially when anyone could see that the two in question were made for each other.

Even Clueless Ron Weasley noticed, which is saying something.

Yes, the infamous "furtive glance." Furtive, my arse. Ron Weasley wouldn't know furtive if it wrote him a love song and serenaded him in the Room of Requirement. Not that I witnessed "the glance." I heard about it from none other than the Boy Who Lived himself.

He was very confused. He walked by my portrait, his brow furrowed, apparently deep in thought. For once I was actually in my own portrait. (As I said earlier, it's all a matter of being in the right place at the right time.)

"What's on your mind, Harry?" I asked him, putting on a compassionate face.

"Ron," he replied.

I must confess, I thought the boy was having . . . er . . . certain feelings for a certain best friend. Okay, I thought Harry Potter was gay, and desperately in love with Ron Weasley. I can't help it, my mind works that way. I was trying to decide whether I should set them up anyway when Harry continued, allaying my fears.

"He's been acting strange, lately. He keeps leaving when Ginny comes into the room. I think he's mad at her. But the worst part is that he takes Hermione with him, too, and Hermione and Ginny are practically best friends."

I almost laughed aloud. Harry Potter was extremely thickheaded. Ron must be rubbing off on him. Okay, I didn't almost laugh aloud - I did laugh aloud. Harry gave me a Look.

"You think it's funny?" he said angrily. "My best friend isn't talking to his little sister! She doesn't deserve that. He won't tell me what's wrong, either. He just keeps saying he's not mad at her!"

"Harry, you are a prat," I said to him, my compassionate look gone. "Ron's not mad at Ginny. Leaving the room is just his bungling attempt at matchmaking. He is rather thick, come to mention it."

Harry stared at me incredulously. "Match - you mean, me and . . . Ginny?"

"Why not?" I said.

"It's just . . . she's . . . Ron's little sister!" he sputtered. "She's just Ginny."

I gave him a knowing smile. "Yes, and you're just Harry. Just imagine it for a second. You and Ginny. She's perfect for you, you know."

Harry was turning rather red in the face. "I don't think of Ginny that way!" he exclaimed.

"Maybe you should give it a try," I said, and made my dramatic exit, leaving Harry standing in the hallway.

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I spent a lot of time in the Fat Lady's portrait over the next few days.

"Mairwen," the Fat Lady said, looking slightly hurt. "Why do you only talk to me when you're matchmaking?"

"I'm sorry, Lady," I said to her, not really paying attention. "I have a very busy matchmaking schedule, you know. And I don't do it for myself, either. Half the students at Hogwarts wouldn't be here if it wasn't for my matchmaking."

"Well," she huffed. She started to complain, but I was distracted by Harry leaving the portrait hole. Not caring about being rude, I stood up in the middle of the Fat Lady's speech and followed him.

He wandered absently around the castle, lost in thought. I followed him for about fifteen minutes before I decided that he had thought long enough.

"So," I said, smiling innocently. "Been thinking about Ginny?"

"Sod off," he said rudely. I don't think my innocent tone fooled him. Not letting this deter me, I continued to talk to him.

"Ever stop to notice the way the sunlight catches her hair? And when she gets angry, her eyes light up with a hidden fire. The way she walks is like music, full of grace and beauty." It had taken me hours to come up with all this poetic nonsense, but it worked. His eyes got all dreamy and far off.

"Yeah, and the way her skirt is too small, and clings to her arse," he said reverently.

"Harry!" I shrieked, appalled. "That's not what I meant!" But then, an evil thought occurred to me. "I'll just tell Ron you've been staring at his sister's bum."

The blood drained from Harry's face. "No," he said desperately, "don't tell Ron!"

I just smirked at him, calling out my inner Draco Malfoy. A curl of the lip, a raised eyebrow, a not-so-veiled threat. "What will you do if I keep quiet?"

Harry gaped at me. "What do you mean?" he asked warily.

"I mean, you are indebted to me. I get a favor. I don't tell Ron that you've been ogling his sister, you do something for me."

"What exactly would I have to do?" he asked dejectedly.

I felt like letting out an evil laugh, but I held myself back. He was already admitting defeat - I had won!

"I haven't decided yet," I said, and made my second dramatic exit.

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The next day, I searched all around the castle for Ginny Weasley. I finally caught her leaving History of Magic, but I had to wait until classes were finished to approach her.

She walked dreamily to the library, her head somewhere in the clouds. She took a seat at one of the tables, and continued to stare into space.

I crowded into a very familiar looking painting, with two old ladies in it. They muttered about rude young girls before huffing off. I must have had déjà vu or something, because I could swear that had happened before.

"Oi, Ginny!" I called, bringing the girl smashing back to reality. She looked over at me instantly. Wow, that had never happened before. I thought no one noticed the portraits. I liked this girl already.

Ginny got up and walked over to me. "Hey," she said, looking up at the portrait. "Who are you?"

"I'm Mairwen," I replied.

"How come you know my name?" she asked.

"Because I have nothing better to do than follow students around all day. It's rather boring being a painting."

She giggled. "Well, it's nice to meet you. I'd shake your hand, but...."

Now it was my turn to laugh. I did like this girl. "That's okay," I said. "I just wanted to know what you were thinking about."

"What do you mean?" Ginny asked.

Ah, avoidance. She didn't want to tell me that she had been thinking about dear, wonderful Harry. Harry, the one who had been staring at her in quite a different manner for the past few days. She didn't want to tell me she was daydreaming about marrying him and living happily ever after.

"You had the most dreamy expression on your face, dearie," I said to her, putting on a conspiratorial grin. "Thinking of a certain true love?"

She smiled beatifically. I was almost there. She was going to confide in me, I just knew it. She was going to tell me how Harry Potter made her heart beat faster, how being near him made her catch her breath. I could taste the sweet nectar of victory in my mouth.

"Yes," she said with a sigh. "My true love."

"Who?" I prodded. She wasn't going to get away with just that. I wanted the who, what, when, where, and why, and I wanted it now.

"Quidditch," Ginny said, before grinning wickedly and walking out of the library. Hey, dramatic exits were my job. Maybe I didn't like her so much, after all.

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"What are you thinking about?" I asked Harry the next day.

He had walked around with a smile all day long. I knew he had to be thinking about Ginny.

"Quidditch game today," he said with a grin.

Quidditch, how I loathe thee. The perfect excuse for happiness. The perfect way to get out of telling the truth. I knew Ginny had been thinking about Harry, and vice versa. But I didn't know how to get them to admit it.

I was further hampered by the Quidditch game. They were all outside the castle, therefore out of my influence. Wasting an entire afternoon on Quidditch when they should be spending more time on their relationship. It was disgraceful.

Turns out Gryffindor had won. The Gryffindors came back to the common room to celebrate, and the party went far into the night.

Being me, I had settled in a convenient picture frame to watch the goings on. Maybe I could catch one of the two lovebirds for a private chat. If not, maybe I could find another couple to set up. Compared to Harry and Ginny, setting up anyone else would be a piece of cake.

I had no such luck. I was ignored by every Gryffindor in the room, from Euan Abercrombie to Alicia Spinnet. So I had to be content to watch the goings on.

The parties weren't near as much fun since Fred and George Weasley left school. I happened to be one of the lucky portraits that witnessed that event, and I'll never forget it. Fred and George always did know how to liven things up.

Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas tried to live up to Fred and George's title of Troublemakers-in-chief, but hard as they tried, they had nothing on the twins.

Suddenly, it came to me. Harry still owed me a favor.

"Oi!" I said, catching the attention of a first year. She was a pretty little thing, maybe I could . . . but I had more important things to do. "Girlie," I said to her, smiling benignly from my frame. "Could you go tell Harry Potter that Mairwen wants her favor?"

The little girl jumped up, walked over to Harry, and gave him the message. I was quite surprised, most first year girls can't talk to Harry Potter without stuttering. Harry looked over to me and scowled. I just waved cheekily at him.

He walked over to me, with a scowl that would have done Ron Weasley proud. "What do you want, Mairwen?"

"My favor," I said simply.

Harry looked sort of apprehensive. I can't imagine why. "What exactly is the favor, Mairwen?" I caught him eyeing Ginny as he spoke. I smiled, for I had done my work well.

I arched an eyebrow. "What makes you think it has to do with her?" I asked, grinning slyly down at him. At least, I hope it was slyly. I had practiced all sorts of facial expressions in a mirror until I had them down flush, but I tend to get a bit flustered when I act.

"Mairwen, from past knowledge of our conversations, I've come to the conclusion that everything you say has something to do with Ginny."

Ha, he assumed that my "her" was Ginny. It could very well have been Hermione, or Lavender, or Parvati. Or Luna Lovegood, even. But no, he assumed that I was talking about Ginny. Therefore, my work was almost done.

"I suppose you're right, Harry. We do tend to talk about Ginny a lot. But that's your fault, not mine."

"What do you mean?"

"You're the one who always brings her up." I knew this was not true, but I doubted he would remember.

"Well, so what if I do?" he said defensively.

"I think you fancy her," I said happily.

"I do not!"

"Yes you do!"

"Do not!"

"Do too!"

"Do not!"

"Do too!"

"I DO NOT FANCY GINNY!"

By now, everyone in the room was staring at us. As Harry had his back to them, he didn't notice, but I did. I also noticed Ginny's eyes filling with tears. I was right! She did like him. I love it when I'm right.

"Are you quite sure about that, Harry?" I said.

He sighed. It was a defeated sounding sigh, a sigh that told me I had won. Again. I did a little victory dance, but only in my head. Breaking out in the Sprinkler would have ruined the moment.

"I suppose I do, after all," he said. Then his eyes got wide and he spoke again, with a tremor in his voice.

"What am I going to do?"

"Well," said Ginny, coming up behind him. "You could start by telling me that."

Harry turned around to face her, a small grin starting to appear on his face.

"Oh yeah, Miss Weasley?" he said. "And what exactly would you do if I said that?"

"Ask me and find out." The damn girl made another dramatic exit, right out the portrait hole. Those dramatic exits were my job!

Harry watched her leave, uncertainty in his eyes.

"What are you waiting for?!" Seamus yelled. "A girl like that walks out the door, and you're supposed to follow her!"

Harry left the room grinning. Of course, I followed him. He caught up with Ginny a short way away from the portrait hole. She hadn't walked very fast. Smart girl.

"Ginny," he said, grabbing her hands. "I . . . um . . . well . . ."

Ginny threw her arms around him, beaming like anything. "I fancy you too, Harry."

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So, Harry and Ginny lived happily ever after.

Aside from that whole "Voldemort wants to kill Harry" thing.

I'll see you next time you come around. Don't be a stranger!