Opening the door, Dean smiled.  "Good morning!  Please, come in."  As Hannah made her way through the door, Dean said, "I have to admit that I've been looking forward to this all week.  Now, would you like something to drink, or would you rather we just get started?"

 

"If I put anything in my belly, you'll only see it again."

 

"Fair enough."

 

Hannah followed as Dean led her to where they would be doing this. She set her bag down and kicked off her shoes. She was shaking a bit. Hannah slipped out of her skirt and took her time folding it. She started taking off her cardigan but only managed to get it off her shoulders before sort of folding her arms across her chest. She was shaking like crazy.

 

"I... I... don't know if I can do this. I thought I could, but... I feel n-nervous."

Dean laid his hand on her shoulder lightly.  "Relax, Hannah."  Pulling her gently to the pallet he'd set up earlier, he murmured, "Here we are.  Why don't we sit down for a moment."   He gave her a moment to gather herself before continuing.  "Hannah,  we won't do anything here that you don't want to do.  What I mean to say is that if you aren't comfortable being this undressed, we can try something el..."   Dean trailed off, suddenly looking at her intently.

He was staring at her. He'd cut himself off mid-word. "What? What is it? What's wrong?"

"Perfect.  Absolutely perfect..." he breathed.  Shaking himself, Dean realized what he'd done.  "I'm sorry, Hannah.  I didn't mean to be so rude.  It's just that you look absolutely lovely right now.  Actually, do you think that you could sit there, just like that, for a bit?"

 

Hannah blinked. She looked down. She didn't see anything extraordinary. It was just her. "I suppose."

 

He'd said she looked lovely. Hannah smiled to herself for a bit before letting her mind wander. She wondered if she should talk to him or something. She didn't know the etiquette for sitting for a portrait when most of your clothes were off.

Poor thing, Dean thought.  She looks so unsure.  There was an innocent purity to her that called to him.  "So, what made you decide to have a portrait done, Hannah?", he asked as his pencil began moving furiously.

 

Words just started pouring out of Hannah.

 

"I was supposed to get married a few weeks ago. My fiance was cheating on me. He'd never approve of this." Blaise would though. She'd never given much thought to where this portrait would actually go when finished. Perhaps she would give it to him... even though they were supposed to be friends. Well, it wasn't like he hadn't seen it already.

 

"I don't know if you remember Wayne Hopkins. But I was supposed to marry him. Things sure worked out differently."

Thinking back to recent events with a certain Ms. Spinnet, he replied, "They surely do." 

Mentally shaking himself, he continued sketching.  "All I can say is that Hopkins must be both blind and stupid.  How any man with two good eyes and half a brain could even look at another woman when they had someone like you is beyond me."  He shook his head.  "Sometimes I think that abject stupidity is part and parcel of being male."

 

Hannah was still thinking of Blaise. "I would have to agree. About the abject stupidity... no offense, your being male and all. No one ever looks at me like that though. You'd think I'd be used to that by now. Hannah Abbott... relegated to best girl mate for all time."

"Uh, oh," Dean grinned, "Sounds like boy problems.  For what it's worth,  I think you're lovely.  If I weren't the consummate professional that I am," he continued in a playfully pompous tone, "I would be horribly turned on right now."  Seeing her disbelieving look, he said, "I mean it - you're dead sexy, Han.  Seriously."

 

"I bet you say that to all the girls who you paint in their various states of undress." His talking and joking was making her less nervous. She was starting to forget she was sitting here in mostly just her bra and knickers. "So... besides becoming a master artisan, what have you been doing with yourself since school, Dean?"

"Not much, to be honest.  Aside from my apprenticeship, I got a muggle degree in graphic design.  After that, I worked as a cartoonist for a muggle paper.  I got my Mastership and quit my muggle job last week, and moved in with Gin on Tuesday.  That's pretty much it."  Putting away his pencils, Dean started loading his palette with paint.  "How about you?  What have you been up to... besides dealing with rampant male stupidity, that is?"

 

"That's pretty much the whole of it with the exception of my getting a job at Madam Puddifoot's in the bakery. I had an interview at the Ministry, but that went dreadful, and one with Professor Snape for his apothecary that was terrifying. He was pleasant enough, for Snape, but I honestly thought he was going to hex me and bury me out back."

"You actually interviewed with Snape?"  Dean shivered.  "I can't even imagine."  With a twinkle in his eye he added, "Did you see his coffin, then?"

Dean had finished roughing in the background, and now began mixing the paints for her skin.  "Of course, I have a bit of a phobia about Madam Puddifoot's as well, but then again that's not uncommon for boys who went to Hogwarts, I suppose"  Choosing a round brush, he began framing her face.  "How do you like it there?"

 

"Love it," Hannah said with a bit of sarcasm. "It's the perfect place for a girl who just rushed out of her wedding and got drunk in her wedding dress then burned it in the fireplace before moving in with Harry Potter."

 

She made him stop painting for a moment with all that.

"Sorry," Hannah said giggling. "I like the baking. I could bake anywhere though. If I had someplace other than where all the Hogwarts students wanted to take their dates, that'd be perfect."

"Then why don't you start one?"  Dean turned back to his easel. "There's definitely a market for a place like that.  Right now, Puddifoot's and the Sticks are the only options.  Puddifoot's is too rabidly girlie for any boy to be comfortable in, and the Sticks is... well, it's a pub.  Not exactly the most date-worthy environment on earth.   If you gave the kids the option of a happy medium, you could make a killing."

 

"It's a fabulous idea, Dean, but everything I own fits into a couple of boxes right now. I only have a roof over my head because Harry still can't resist a damsel in distress. I have no money really, but it is a good idea. I don't have a head for numbers, but perhaps I could look into finding someone who does. It's an idea. Thank you. It'll be something to occupy my time with besides who all of the male species doesn't want me."

"Just so you know, Wayne Hopkins is now officially on my 'gits to hexed on sight' list, along with Seamus Finnegan and Cormac McLaggen.  Anyone who treats a beautiful woman as poorly as he obviously has could do with a good hexing."  Smiling, he added, "And speaking of beautiful women... Would you mind too terribly much if we pushed back lunch by a couple of hours?  Things are going amazingly quickly, and if you can tough it out we might be done sometime this afternoon."

 

"All right," Hannah said, pleased that she wasn't a difficult subject. "Wayne's not worth your time though. Don't bother hexing him. You'd just have to get in line anyhow, and Harry's already hexed him once. Anyhow, he's not who I... um, so Seamus? I thought you and he were best mates? What happened or is it none of my affair?"

 

She didn't know if her chitchat was bothering him. Surely, he tell her to shush if it was.

 

"He's not?  Hannah... please don't tell me that you've fallen in with another idiot male that can't see what's right in front of his face?  We can't all be that stupid, can we?  Then again, I suppose we can"  Shaking his head, Dean sighed.  "Seamus and I were best mates, at least until the little bastard threw Luna Lovegood over for some Irish wench he'd been keeping on the side.  I'm not even sure that Luna knew about her before the wedding invitations went out.  I've not seen or spoken to him since.  Actually, the first anniversary of the Finnegan debacle would have been a couple of days ago, if I recall correctly."

 

Hannah tensed so much at the mention of Luna Lovegood that she thought her teeth might crack. But she couldn't really blame Luna. A couple of days ago? Wait.

 

"The fourteenth."

 

"Um... yeah actually. How did you-"

 

"Oh bother," Hannah put a hand to her forehead. Now she really couldn't be mad at Luna Lovegood. Goodness, what was she doing to herself to get Wayne out of her head, and she was beginning to suspect she had not even cared for him for some time. What if she'd like him? Like she obviously did Blaise. She was only smitten with him and had a one-sided crush, and she'd cried all over Harry and Dobby and blasted them with Celine and Air Supply. What if someone she'd been invested in romantically, emotionally, and practically had done something like that to her? No, Hannah couldn't be upset with Luna Lovegood. Not any longer.

 

Perhaps she should find Luna and... and what, Hannah? Well, she'd think of something. They had like circumstances, and now Hannah was feeling guilty for disliking her about Blaise.

 

"Sorry, I just realized I was upset with someone that I can not be upset with any longer. Wow, who knew Seamus would turn into such a horse's hind end?" Hannah sighed. "I do believe it is my lot in life to have terrible crushes on boys who don't fancy me. It's been so since my third year at Hogwarts. No one I fancy sees me. It's dreadful. Of course, I tend to aim a little high in my wanting."

She looked so utterly miserable just then that Dean couldn't help himself.  Standing, he walked over to Hannah and sat beside her on the pallet.  Draping an arm across her shoulders, he said. "Somehow, I doubt that.  You are a kind, caring, and utterly lovely woman.  Everything I've ever known of you tells me that you deserve much better than you've received of late, as far as men are concerned."  Giving her a little squeeze, he added, "Don't be afraid of aiming high.  I don't know who this new bloke of yours is, but I'd be willing to bet that he won't be able to resist you for long."

 

She felt like saying, Dean, I slept in his bed the other night in a barely-there nightie and he was a perfect gentleman. His resistance ability is JUST FINE.

 

"You're a dear, but I think I could do a naked sexy dance, and he'd insist we stay friends. It's a little maddening. Though it would be nice if you were right. Though another part of me says I shouldn't be making eyes at a bloke when just two weeks ago I was standing at the alter next to a different one. If I had any sense at all, I'd have a crush on Harry, but I'm pretty senseless these days. And don't tell Harry I think I should like him. You should have seen his face when I asked him if he had a girl of his own. I think he thought I was hitting on him and became panicked."

"Actually, I can't imagine a worse person to have a crush on than Harry.  Has more issues than the Quibbler, that one does."  Dean very deliberately looked Hannah over.  "And I think you're underestimating yourself.  Any man who could sit through a 'naked sexy dance' from you and still just want to be friends is either gay or dead." 

Dean paused for a moment, then said, "How about a friendly wager?"

 

"I already owe a favor to a Slytherin, now it's possible I might lose a bet to a Gryffindor? Wayne was opposed to gambling, so let's hear it."

 

Dean walked back to his easel and got back to work.  "All right.  You find your bloke and do your dance - sexy, naked and all - then sit in his lap and kiss him for all you're worth.  If he still 'just wants to be friends', then you get one wish from me.  Anything you want, I'll do or get it for you... and I do mean anything.  If he can't resist you, then I get you to sit for another portrait of my choice - anything I want."  It'll likely be her wedding portrait, he thought, but she doesn't need to know that.  "It's a win-win proposition, really."

 

Hannah blushed thinking about stripping naked in a sexy dance sort of way for Blaise. What if he could resist? She'd be so embarrassed.

 

"I... I... I don't know if... I'm not sure I could... that is to say... can I think about it and get back to you? I'll have to work up the nerve. Dean, he's already seen me mostly undressed and hasn't managed so much as an inappropriate glance that I know of. How awful would it be if he really did want to just be friends and here I am frolicking like a wood nymph in front of him?"

Finishing the last of her blond curls, Dean loaded his brush with black and began working on the lingerie itself.  "Well, the worst case scenario would be that he really does just want to be friends.  It might be painful, but at least you'd be sure of where you stand with him."  Dean paused for a moment, tapping his brush against his chin.  "Personally, I think it's more likely that he's just afraid."

 

"Afraid? Not Bl... er, um... him. Why would you say that? Afraid of me? I'm nothing so scary."

"There a lot of things that men are afraid of, and most of them have to do with women," Dean replied.  "He could be afraid that he'd be taking advantage of you during a time when you're vulnerable, or afraid of hurting you.  He could be afraid of losing control of his... baser urges.  He might think that you're simply too good for him, or be afraid of losing himself if he let himself fall for you.  Hell, he may just be afraid of commitment."

Dean looked up from his canvas.  "Yes, there are a lot of things that a man might find 'scary' about you, Hannah. None of them have anything to do with how attractive you are to him, though."

 

Hannah gave a very unladylike snort. Scary? Her? Right. She was about as scary as a cotton tail rabbit.

 

"What about you then? No special lady friends? If so, I find that rather sad. Talented and attractive. There's no hope for the regular blokes then."

Dean chuckled.  "No, I'm afraid not.  I think I've been relegated to the position of 'one of the girls'.  I don't think I'm anything special, but thank you for the compliment anyway."  Dean had just finished the lingerie, and was starting to work on the finishing touches.  "I guess my point is that if you don't press the issue, you'll never find out how this man thinks of you.  You'll just be drowning in a sea of 'what-ifs' for the rest of your life.  No one deserves that, least of all someone like you who deserves so much better."

 

Hannah cocked her head to the side and smiled. How was it that she knew such wonderful blokes and no women or men, if that's what they preferred, were snatching them up?

 

"You and Harry should start a gentleman's club together. I swear, you sounded just like him then." Hannah sighed. "I'm not very good at asserting myself, but I'm working on that. I'll take the bet into consideration, but I seriously don't know if I could do that without dying of mortification."

"Fair enough.  Just don't be afraid to fight for what you want, Hannah.  Sometimes, that makes all the difference."  Looking back at the canvas, Dean realized that he was finished.  "And... we're done!  Wow!  I don't think I've ever finished a portrait this quickly, or had such a pleasant time doing it."  He cast a specialized drying charm to dry the canvas without causing the paint to crack. "Would you like to see it before I put the charms on?"

 

Hannah was already scrambling to her feet before he even finished getting his question out. Of course she wanted to see.

 

Her mouth fell open. It wasn't her. Surely she didn't look like that. Hannah smiled slightly and resisted the urge to touch the canvas. It was no wonder he'd received his mastery. He'd worked wonders with what little he had to go on here.

 

"Dean Thomas... you are absolutely, positively the bee's knees."

 

She squealed and hopped up and down a bit before throwing herself at him, hugging him tightly.

 

"Thank you so much!"

Smiling widely as he returned her embrace, he replied, "It was my pleasure."  Turning her in his arms, he sat and pulled her into his lap.  Dean pointed at the painting.  "And yes, that's you.  That is what other people see when they see you - a beautiful woman who's brave enough to try something new, even if it scares her.  The next time you start feeling ugly or unattractive, I want you to look at this picture. I want you to look at it and remember that I don't paint what isn't there."  He hugged her again.  "Why don't you go ahead and get dressed while I finish up the charms, and then maybe we can rummage through the pantry for some lunch."

 

"Oh," Hannah shouted, jumping up and blushing furiously. She'd forgotten she was mostly undressed. "Th-thank you. Lunch would be nice. Thanks. Yes."

 

Dean chuckled as she scurried over to her clothes.  She is just too cute for words, sometimes.  I just hope her mystery man pulls his head out of his arse before he loses her. 

 

 

{SUMMARY} Dean captures one Hannah Abbott for all time on canvas.