This is an elaboration of an incident that helped to elevate his portrait painting business in the public eye. The snapshot was written because Sarah/Persepolis challenged me to write a scene with the pairing of Bagnold and Monty with the line "It's never too late." Check out the challenge on Tumblr here.

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Minister Bagnold’s Tour of Britain and Ireland was the talk of the paper and the talk of the pub. Octavius Montgomery Pepper was never quite sure how he saw the witch, and for her taking a tour around the country. Fair enough, meeting and greeting the people was an admirable attempt at grass-roots politics, and the likes of Albus Dumbledore there to guide her was good news, but it all seemed rather for show.

"Four pages today," he muttered to himself as he used the newspaper to catch drips beneath his latest canvas, stepping on Lucius Malfoy’s printed but animated face on purpose as he did. "And you can’t even get a decent advert in there," he berated himself, lifting his cup of coffee to his lips beneath his moustache.

It was that moment the lightbulb went on, and he knew immediately what he had to paint. Scrabbling on his hands and knees, he rescued page after page with Bagnold’s photograph on it, and assembled them quickly and carefully into a collage on the wall and began to sketch.

Diagon Alley was busier than a Christmas shopping week for Bagnold’s arrival. It defied sense, the woman would undoubtedly have visited and purchased everyday items in the very street hundreds and thousands of times in her life, and yet here she was in fine robes, with an entourage and bodyguards, here to speak to the population. He’d noticed the waifs and strays who drank so much they spent their days in empty shop doorways hands outstretched for change were nowhere to be found today.

Instead Octavius took advantage of one of the more ridiculous owners on the street to hang a six foot long painting, covered in blue cloth.

Bagnold was making her way down and the cameras were following her, lightbulbs popping and glittered smoke puffing up above the crowd with each photograph. He had to time it just right, for when they were going to see her in the right angle - there!

With his heart in his mouth the blue cloth fell from the painting, the sudden movement enough to catch the eye of the crowd and the entourage, if not the gasps and laughter that followed. For there beneath the cloth was a painting in landscape, of Bagnold reclining, without a scrap of clothing on her. Rather tastefully done, and her hair rippling in a wind that only existed in the painting, If anything, he’d taken quite a few pounds off her and she was looking good for her age.

It worked a treat, the Minister was shocked, and her expression and the painting was snapped in an instant by the cameras. Octavius gave a little bow to those around him, his name proudly displayed just beneath the painting in large enough letters to be seen in every printing of the photo.

"Disgraceful!" The Minister exclaimed,
"The shame of it!" Ladies of the crowd cried while their husbands and the young men wolf-whistled.
"Be yours for a small donation to the Diagon Temperance fund, Minister." Octavius challenged, as a highlight of the lack of the hidden part of society swept from the cobbles that morning.
"Don’t be ridiculous!" Came the response. But Octavius Pepper, not to be discouraged, called to the retreating form,
"It’s never too late. Minister, never too late…"