Paint at the Black Lake

Avery Taylor Pure like the Black Lake. It was one of the only spots where she could freely go to draw or paint art without being met by anyone,, particularly another Slytherin. Avery would hate if someone discovered her passion for art. She had kept it a secret, even from her family, for so long.

Avery Pure was painting on the cold, February afternoon. The picture was of four witches and wizards wading in the Black Lake, ready to dive down to the deep. One of them, the youngest (dressed in red and black), looked as if he were choking. It was exactly as she had remembered it. Potter looked like he was choking on something. And he had been. Air.

Avery ignored all sounds that she heard around her, as she painted. She had a gift for painting really, and hiding her paint supplies was always a huge burden on her. Sometimes she thought about telling her friends all about her passion, but then at the thought of how they might react when they found out, decided against the idea of it. Imagine what they would say when you tell them, she thought, there is no way they would believe you.

Avery had always lied about where she went when she painted. She had always made up stuff when her friends saw her. She would never let anyone know about her art. Today, was different.