That night, Scott never put a brush to the painting.
He knew there was a better way to express what he wanted, but he couldn't think of it just then. The feeling bothered him.
So he woke up very early the next day.
After washing up and getting dressed, he sat in front of the blank canvas by the window for a long time.
Before he knew it, morning light had pierced the thin mist and shone through the window onto his face.
Scott came back to himself. Seeing that his roommates were still sleeping soundly, he left the dormitory alone.
He decided to go for a walk and clear his head.
When he reached the Common Room, he saw Luna again, sitting on the windowsill in her nightdress with her knees drawn up, gazing blankly out the window.
Scott walked over to greet her.
"Good morning, Luna."
Luna slowly turned her head. When she saw Scott, she smiled dreamily.
"Good morning, Scott." She gave a small wave.
"Whenever I see you in the Common Room, you're sitting here," Scott said.
He walked to the window and looked toward the place Luna had been watching. It was in the direction of the Forbidden Forest.
Curiously, he asked, "Is there something worth admiring out there?"
"I'm watching the Thestrals that live in the Forbidden Forest. They often fly up into the air." Luna was happy to share what she'd discovered.
"Really? It's a shame I can't see Thestrals," Scott said.
Thestrals were magical creatures that could only be seen by those who had witnessed death.
Scott wasn't one of them. Not yet.
"That's a pity," Luna said regretfully. "I think they're rather cute."
If someone else had said they regretted that Scott couldn't see Thestrals, he would have thought they were sorry he hadn't witnessed death.
But this odd little witch?
Scott didn't think she meant it that way.
Besides, he'd seen pictures of Thestrals in books, and he couldn't see anything cute about those gaunt magical creatures.
He only smiled, though, and didn't comment.
"I was thinking of going into the Forbidden Forest to look for Crumple-Horned Snorkacks, but my dad said you have to go to Sweden to find them." Luna's voice grew dreamier and dreamier. "I wonder if there are any Blibbering Humdingers in the Forbidden Forest."
"You could try looking."
Scott had never heard of either of those magical creatures, but he didn't dispel the little girl's fairy-tale-like fantasies.
He simply warned her, "But you're only a first-year. The Forbidden Forest could be dangerous."
"Thank you. I'll make sure I'm prepared before I go."
Luna took his advice, then suddenly sneezed loudly.
"Oh! It's a little cold. I should go change!"
She rubbed her nose, her bare feet peeking out from beneath her long nightdress.
"Goodbye, Scott."
With that, she jumped straight down from the windowsill, landed barefoot on the carpet, and scampered away.
Scott shook his head, then stood by the window and stretched languidly.
Just then, morning mist drifted past the window. Bathed in the warm sunlight, the swirling fog bloomed with gorgeous colors.
The distant Forbidden Forest and the nearby castle took shape within the colors, indistinct and layered, like an impressionistic splash of color.
I've got it!
Scott's eyes lit up.
A splash of color!
He immediately abandoned his plan to go for a walk and returned to the dormitory.
He diluted more paint with linseed oil, then used Transfiguration to conjure several small buckets to hold it.
To make the paint flow more freely, he added some water as well.
Scott picked up the largest oil paintbrush and loaded it with paint.
But just as he was about to begin, he tossed the brush aside and took up his wand again.
He decided to complete the painting with Transfiguration, to make it more magical.
He turned and leaned back in an armchair, repeatedly imagining the effect he wanted to create. He kept at it until the image in his mind grew clearer and clearer.
Then he waved his wand without hesitation.
The paint in the buckets on the floor immediately stirred. Different colors flew out and gathered in the air, blending together.
Then the paint swept onto the canvas, filling its blank surface.
As the paint flowed, the image gradually took shape, matching the one Scott had imagined.
It was done.
Scott stood and looked at the painting, which he had completed in what felt like an instant. He nodded in satisfaction.
Then applause behind him interrupted his thoughts.
It turned out that his roommates had woken up while he'd been absorbed in painting.
"That's amazing, Scott!"
Milton was so excited he nearly jumped. He hadn't even put on his slippers and ran over barefoot.
"That's amazing!" His eyes shone as he looked at Scott's work. "How lucky I am to have opened my eyes today and witnessed the birth of this painting! Oh, I don't know how to describe it. All I can say is that it's so much better than I imagined! Congratulations!"
Roger and Eddie came over too.
"Wow, Scott!" Roger praised him. "You've amazed us again."
Unlike last time, he could understand this painting, so his praise was sincere.
Eddie immediately offered his own thoughts. "I never imagined you could paint a portrait like this. It's really amazing, isn't it?"
He stepped closer and continued, "I saw the painting you gave Professor Flitwick too, but honestly, I couldn't make anything of it."
He shrugged.
"But when I saw this one, maybe because Professor McGonagall is clearly depicted in it, I suddenly got this feeling of, 'This is Professor McGonagall's magic!'"
"Thank you!" Scott said happily. "This may be my most satisfying painting yet—not just because of its unique style, but because I've found a new painting technique!"
His face lit up with genuine joy. Spreading his arms, he exclaimed, "We're wizards! Of course it's more exciting to use magic to create something like this!"
"You're absolutely right, Scott!"
Milton nodded in agreement.
"Using magic doesn't make your paintings any less artistic! For example, even if I had Transfiguration as good as yours, I still couldn't paint something like this."
He looked at the painting again, his eyes full of admiration.
"That's because I couldn't imagine a scene like this in my own mind."
Scott accepted the compliment, then smiled at him. "You'd better save that clever brain of yours for music, Milton."
"Music!"
Milton's green eyes lit up even more.
"I've got it!"
He hurried to the desk beside his bed, quickly pulled out a quill and a piece of parchment, and began writing as fast as he could.
"Looks like Milton's had a new inspiration too," Roger said to Eddie.
"Isn't that pretty common?"
Eddie, who was used to it by now, looked at him in confusion.
"Have you really not noticed, Eddie?" Roger said solemnly, patting him on the shoulder. "The two of us don't quite fit in around this dormitory."
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