The “v” neck of his t-shirt was accentuated by the sweat absorbed into the cotton, his body was slowly overheating, and the delicate skin covering the back of his neck and ears was cooked to a blistering red by the afternoon sun. Yet Kirby Krause was grinning as if someone had just handed him his newborn child. And in a way, that was what was happening, for the redhead was just a few strokes away from reaching the halfway mark on his in-progress masterpiece.

Before the summer commenced, Diagon Alley had announced that they were looking for young artists to paint murals on some of the shop walls. Kirby immediately seized the opportunity, sending off as many examples of his artwork as an owl could carry. Although it would have been nice to see Egypt- to absorb a whole new culture, and maybe sketch the famous pyramids- he was ecstatic to receive the news that he was chosen to paint one of the murals. A mural that would be seen by thousands, if not millions of witches and wizards a year. Egypt would just have to wait.

Kirby’s plan for the mural was to depict scenes from the popular tale “The Fountain of Fair Fortune” that would move, like all magical paintings did- but with a twist. At the outset of summer, while skimming through a hefty tome on the history of magical art at Flourish and Blotts, his gray eyes fell upon a particularly interesting charm invented by a seventeenth century artist. This charm allowed artwork to change from day to night.

Just a few more details... His ratty, rolled-up (to promote air circulation) painting jeans crept further up his reedy legs as he bent low, kneeling on the cobblestones to concentrate near the edge of the wall. Grass details were always painfully tedious, but the young artist was nearly unstoppable in his creative frenzy.

The “day” half of the mural (the part that was nearly finished) was divided into thirds, each part showing one of the trials Asha, Altheda, Amata, and Sir Luckless faced on their way to the fountain. The giant worm, the steep slope, and the river were depicted in exquisite detail, begging to be brought to life.

Jazelle had a knack for art ever since she was a little girl.  She took pride in her artistic abilities, but she never wanted to showcase her work for many reasons.  One would be the natural fear of rejection or criticism.  A big part of her secrecy was due to how personal her art was for her.  She wasn't ashamed of her art, of course, but she was afraid to share it with the world because it wouldn't be hers anymore.  If that made sense; which Jazelle figured it did... at least to one other person in the world.

Her friends and family normally allowed her the privacy she needed to create, but every once in a while they would get antsy and want to see it before it was finished.  This made Jazelle nervous.  If she didn't want anyone to see her art when it was finished, what makes them think she'd allow them to look at it when it wasn't finished?  Her rejection angered them at times, thinking she was being silly and immature, but Jazelle would just sigh and continue creating in peace.  She didn't even hang up her art in her own bedroom.  Instead, she kept a space in her closet to store her canvases and various supplies, shrinking them and locking them away as if they were treasure.

Now, however, she took a leap of faith and volunteered in contributing to a mural in Diagon Alley over the summer.  Jazelle didn't know exactly what tempted her into doing it in the first place.  It went against everything she believed in as an artist.  Still having no idea what she was going to settle with for the actual painting, she nonetheless packed her art satchel with the necessary items and disapparated from her bedroom.  This was how she usually created art.  It wasn't planned or scheduled: it just came to her.  At times it was frustrating because she would wait days on end for inspiration to kick in and nothing would happen.  But when she was inspired, her passion would keep her going until her art turned out to be something miraculous.

Giggling at the sensation of apparating, she spun on her heels and headed toward one of the shops, smiling to see other students working on the mural already.  Coming upon a beautiful piece on the stretch of a shop, she paused briefly and took a moment to admire it.  Not realizing she was standing behind a red-haired boy in the process of painting it, she suddenly felt her skills were inferior.  "Ah, man..." she said to herself breathlessly and stared at the artwork dejectedly.  Who am I kidding?  I can't do this... she thought, ready to disapparate back to her bedroom on the spot and give up on the mural idea.

Scattered around the boy were pages upon pages of sketches, drawn up during the weeks he spent at his father's house in Manchester. Each subtly different- perhaps a different technique here, or another colour scheme there- and they were all coming together on the patch of wall before him. Forcing his hands to remain steady as the rest of his body trembled with anticipation, Kirby's thoughts could be read like this:

Stroke
Green
Crosshatch
Forest
Steady
Stroke
Steady
Steady
Almost...

And suddenly, his eyes brightened, as he realised he was done. The normally calm and composed young man shot up instantly with a triumphant "Yes!" However, in his excitement, he neglected to notice that there was someone behind him: a someone he practically rocketed himself backwards into. When his body collided with the other, his focus was broken, and he whirled around on his toes. He was now acutely aware of his surroundings: the other artists, the shoppers, the busy buzz of Diagon Alley- and the girl! The girl he had just smacked into... "I-I'm so sorry," he sputtered, quickly coming down from his victory high.

Jazelle was mildly distracted by the mural, so the boy shooting up like an arrow and smacking into her took her by surprise.  Stumbling back a little, she tripped over the back of one of her heels and fell to the ground, catching herself with her hands stretched behind her.  Wincing a bit at her palms scraping against the somewhat rough ground, Jazelle looked up at the boy in question and quirked an eyebrow.  Good lord he's a giant, she thought in amazement and giggled a little at his apology.

"Don't worry," she said simply and stood back up, examining her palms idly before whipping out her wand and healing them.  Slipping her wand back in her jeans pocket she smiled up at the boy kindly.  "I know what it's like to be so wrapped up in what I'm doing that I tune everything else out.  It's gotten me ripped up on more than a few occasions." she said in amusement and subconsciously tried straightening her posture to seem taller.

"I'm Jazz," she said politely and gazed at the mural behind him briefly before looking back at him.  "That is quite lovely, by the way," she commented sweetly, "I was actually here to add something of my own to the mural before you jumped on me." she added with a chuckle.

It was hard to ignore how much he towered the girl, even as he slouched, which would have amused him if not for the fact he had just knocked her to the ground. He was about to reach for his wand- which was tucked in his back pocket- and address her wounds, but she beat him to the punch. His shapeless lips curved into a light smile as he regarded the girl, who forgave him with good humour. Relieved to see she wasn't angry, Kirby regained his normal calm composure. He reciprocated her introduction with a polite, "Kirby Krause," turning the upper half of his body to survey his work. The girl- Jazz- had complimented it, causing the corners of his mouth to twitch further upward.

"Thank you," the redhead replied, blushing faintly at her "jumped on me" comment. Remembering the last thing he had to do before the half of the mural was done, he grabbed his wand from the back pocket of his jeans. Pointing the pine wand towards the wall, he called out in his soft baritone, "Arisviva!"

It was like turning on a machine and watching the cogs spin. The giant worm roared, the four adventurers laboured up the slope, and the river babbled. It was all in motion now, and Kirby was positively beaming at his achievement.

Kirby?  His name is Kirby? she thought, fighting the urge to burst into laughter.  She suddenly thought about Super Smash Bros. and the character Kirby eating all the other characters to harness their power.  Various scenarios ran through her head regarding the video game Kirby and the real-life Kirby standing in front of her.  Jazelle somehow managed to keep her cool which was a relief for her.  She had no idea how someone she just met would take to her laughing at his name.  Though it was nothing personal or bad, in fact, she found his name to be awesome.

"Oh, right, last name," she sighed and smacked her forehead lightly for being so silly.  "Hawke is mine." she added, gesturing to herself and watched in awe at the mural coming to life.  "That's a neat effect," she said sincerely and studied the artwork closer, stepping around the boy toward the wall without realizing it.  "Suddenly my idea of a sunflower seems very anticlimactic if it were next to this," she joked without taking her eyes away.  "Not that I was going to paint a sunflower.  I wasn't.  I actually don't know what I will make..." she trailed off idly and smiled sweetly at Kirby.

"You... kind of look familiar..." she said lightly and stuck her tongue out slightly to the side in thought.

As he watched her watch his mural, Kirby's smile widened into a grin, and the pride that welled up in the pit of his chest gave him an incredible head rush. However, with this newfound self-awareness came the realisation that he had been working for hours, ignoring his human needs, his body feeding off sheer momentum. He had become very thirsty, so much so, that his tongue felt like sandpaper as he spoke, "I think I've seen you around, too..." His eyes wandered to a beverage cart across the way. "You ever come 'round to Ravenclaw Tower?"

Fruitlessly licking his lips and snapping his attention back to Jazz, he added, "D'you fancy a drink? Pear cider? Pumpkin juice, anything? I'm parched... and it's the least I can do for barreling into you." Kirby punctuated his offer by moving over to his messenger bag, strewn haphazardly on the stone ground, and pulling out a couple of galleons. While on the ground, he looked up at Jazz, a questioning look on his face that he hoped said, "Please let me do this for you."

Jazelle's ears perked up at the mention of Ravenclaw Tower.  Suddenly images of a red-haired boy walking about quietly, slouching his way through the sea of people.  Of course, she remembered vague times when she would visit Church in the West Wing.  "Oh, yeah.  My friend, Church, is a Ravenclaw, so I've been around there a few times.  I'm a Gryffindor, seventh year as of this fall." she said simply and quirked an eyebrow at Kirby's offer to get her a drink.  Hm... Isn't he the gentleman? she thought appreciatively and smiled politely at the boy.

Hah.  Barreling into me, she noted with a slight snicker and shook her head lightly with a smile.

"You don't have to," she said, raising her hand in polite dismissal.  Then she noticed the look on his face and gave a playful dramatic sigh.  "Though, if you insist, I could go for some pumpkin juice." she said with a giggle and smiled brightly at him.  Now that she thought about it, she hadn't had her morning coke of the day yet.

No wonder I haven't been inspired.  I haven't had my sustenance. she thought with a slight chuckle and headed over to the cart with Kirby.  She furrowed her eyebrows and realized she hadn't eaten anything that day either.  What is wrong with me?  I'm surprised I dressed myself this morning, she thought and looked down at her Doctor Who shirt.

"I do insist," he said as they made their way to the cart. "I'm a sixth year, by the way."

So she was friends with Church Comer. He knew of the guy, though not much. He didn't seem all that pleasant, but who was he to judge? Besides, this lovely young woman considered him a friend, so how bad could he be? When Kirby approached the beverage cart, he asked politely for a pumpkin juice and a pear cider. The moment the transaction was complete, he twisted off the top of the bottle and took a mighty swig of his favourite drink, feeling nearly euphoric as the sweet, cold liquid hit his tongue. His freckled neck was stretched out, frightfully pale in the afternoon sun. He gave a refreshed sigh when he took the bottle away to catch his breath. "Lovely."

Diagon Alley wasn't horribly busy, since it was midday on a Thursday, and many people were still at work. Still, the popular shopping district hummed with distant chatter and shuffling feet as customers zoomed this way and that with their purchases. Giving Jazz another small smile to assure her he hadn't forgotten about her, he attempted to continue the conversation, asking, "Artist's block is awful. D'you think you'll find inspiration in that pumpkin juice?"

Jazelle fixated on the bottle handed to her, thanking him politely before popping the top off with her teeth, dropping it in her hand and taking a rather large swig in one fluid motion.  The subtle sweet cinnamon filled her senses as the liquid trickled down her throat with ease.  She remembered the first time she tried pumpkin juice her first year.  She was hesitant at first, since she never had pumpkin pie, and the first gulp made her cringe.  But, after the next few sips, her taste-buds got used to it and she learned to adore the drink.

Humming in appreciation, she licked her lips and moved with Kirby in comfortable silence.  However, upon taking another swig of pumpkin juice, his comment about her finding inspiration in the drink made her choke a little and cough through her laughter.  Luckily none spilled out of her mouth at the outburst, and she composed herself relatively quickly.  Jazelle always appreciated a good joke, even if it was an accident.  Beaming up at Kirby, she giggled a little more and shook her head in amusement.

"Thank you, Kirby, that made my day," she said lightheartedly and looked down at her bottle.  "I sure hope I find something soon, otherwise that mural's going to be a big gap of nothingness."  Taking another swig of pumpkin juice, she licked her lips again and looked up at him.  "I figure if I just start painting it'll turn into something that makes sense eventually.  If not... then I'll call it abstract." she shrugged playfully and chuckled at the thought.  "Though after seeing your creation... everything else will seem like an insignificant frame, showcasing the real work of art."

His eyebrows quirked at the sight of her opening the bottle; well, that certainly can't be good for your teeth. But she was obviously unharmed, so his face relaxed once again. Tough girl, opening bottles like that... he thought idly as they moved toward their original spot across the way. Suddenly, Jazz began laughing-slash-choking at his inadvertent joke, and he found her laughter contagious, letting out a giggle of his own. Her amused smile was returned with a kind grin from the redhead.

"I'm glad," he said, in response to making her day, and chuckled when she mentioned abstract work. His face faltered only when he felt she was criticising herself. "That's not true- it'll all come together as one huge masterpiece," he encouraged, "But not before your contribution is added." Stepping in front of his painted piece of wall, Kirby brought his wand out once again and flicked it, muttering, "Pictura nox." The colours faded slowly, like the sun was going down, until the wall was as blank as it had been at the beginning of the summer.

He turned to Jazz, "Maybe you can help me start part two? That might help you think of something," he offered, scooping up an extra brush and one of his sketches for the "night" scene. "It's the part of the story where they reach the Fountain of Fair Fortune."

Jazz gave a slight 'pfft' and rolled her eyes.  "You haven't seen what I can do.  I could just be a stick-figure with smiley-faces kind of artist, for all you know," she joked and skipped to his side.  "But I'd love to help." she said breathlessly and looked at one of the sketches he held.  She was unfamiliar with the tale, but by the looks of it it seemed reminiscent of Dante's Inferno with the different levels of hell based on sin.  Setting her now closed bottle of pumpkin juice and art satchel on the ground at a safe distance, she grabbed the extra brush and tied her hair back with one of the hairbands around her wrist.

To be honest, she was nervous to paint alongside Kirby.  It was nothing personal, really.  She never let anyone watch as she painted or drew, even if they couldn't see what it was she was creating.  Jazz didn't like being under their scrutinizing gaze when doing something so personal and important to her.  Still, Jazz was a Gryffindor for a reason, and she needed to take the plunge and put herself out there.

Ready to start painting, she surveyed the size of the wall and imagined the proportions.

Kirby smiled gently and shook his head, "I have faith." Then, scooping up a large bucket of paint and holding it up next to his face he continued, "Besides, the first thing we need to do is paint it solid. Maybe if you get into the motion, something'll come to you." He set the bucket back down in front of the centre of the wall, took his brush in hand and dipped it into the paint. His long, lanky fingers gripped the brush delicately as he made the first bold stroke. The horizontal line revealed the colour to be a smoky bluish-grey enchanted to sparkle, simulating moonlight. The weeks he spent as his father's home in Manchester were dedicated in part to perfecting the mixture, and Kirby was more than pleased with the result.

The boy didn't mind working in front of others, and this was mostly because once he started working, he was hardly aware of his surroundings. At school he would often work in the spacious Ravenclaw common room, oblivious to any small crowd that gathered behind him. Painting there also presented the opportunity to hear some music from his so-inclined housemates, which inspired him and encouraged him along as he created.

A thought crossed his mind after he made a couple more strokes: did she know what he was on about? He turned to look at Jazz, concerned he had left her in the dark and asked, "Did you ever hear the story of 'The Fountain of Fair Fortune'?"

Jazz hesitated before dipping the brush in the paint and following along with Kirby.  She kept her strokes consistent and well enough below Kirby's own, stopping only to marvel at the paint.  "Wow, Kirby, how did you know this is my favorite color?" she said breathlessly and continued painting.

She missed this, she really did.  It had been a while since she had a muse and gliding the brush just so was something that gave her peace.  Blocking everything else out, she didn't notice the ever-growing smile playing at her lips or the bustle of passersby.  For a glorious moment, Jazz was in her own little world.  A world free of the emotional baggage that had burdened her this last year or the inevitable breakdown yet to come.

Suddenly, just now realizing Kirby had spoken to her, she paused and looked at him sheepishly.  "I'm sorry, I was kind of off in my own world..." she apologized and licked her lips nervously before her mind registered what it was he asked.  "Oh, no, I haven't heard of The Fountain of Fair Fortune..." she answered hastily and looked at the wall as a distraction.

Jazz was a muggleborn, so she never heard of any wizard folktales or nursery rhymes.  Though she supposed she could have looked it up once at Hogwarts, she just didn't care to know.  Now, however, she was interested to learn about this, since it was something Kirby found inspirational enough to do a mural of.  "I assume that's what you're doing?" she added with a chuckle and looked back at him expectantly.

"I aim to please," he countered, his eyes lingering on the focused Jazz, watching as she got into a rhythm. He never noticed how pleasing it could be to watch someone else paint. But soon he realised what he was doing, and instantly looked away, a blush creeping onto his cheeks. That line was pretty smooth, he had to admit: it was almost like he was channeling Eddy in that moment. Though Kirby wasn't known to be a particularly nervous person, there was something about Jazz that made everything feel easy.

Oh, boy. Teenage kicks.

She had gone off onto another plane while she painted- something that Kirby understood exactly. "Don't worry, I know how that goes," he assured her. His eyebrows furrowed in concern when she turned her gaze to the wall, but continued, "Yeah, that's what my mural's based on. It was one of my favourite faerie tales as a kid. My parents hadn't heard of it before, but when they were expecting me, they went to a wizarding bookshop and found The Tales of Beedle the Bard... anyway, 'The Fountain of Fair Fortune' is about a magic fountain can only be reached once a year by someone unfortunate. If someone bathes in the fountain, they get what they need. So, three women were waiting in line: Asha, who was sick; Altheda, who was living in poverty; and Amata, who was deserted by her beloved. They became friends, and when the Creepers wrapped around Asha to pull her into the garden, she grabbed Altheda, who held onto Amata. Amata got tangled in the armour of a muggle knight, Sir Luckless- a knight who lived up to his name. The four journeyed toward the fountain, facing the challenges you saw before... but when they finally got there," he nodded toward the wall, "the three women realised they had what they needed all along. So, they let Sir Luckless bathe in the fountain, and when he emerged, he asked Amata to marry him."

Kirby look directly at Jazz and asked, "And you know what?" He desperately hoped he wasn't boring her, and that she wouldn't just stare at him like he was a loon and storm away.