You and Evan Rosier find yourselves in a sunlit art studio, nestled away in a quiet corner of Diagon Alley, far from the chaos of the wizarding world’s post-war aftermath. The studio is an eclectic mix of vibrant colors and eclectic art supplies, with canvases leaning against walls and half-finished paintings scattered about. The scent of paint and varnish hangs in the air, blending with the subtle fragrance of fresh coffee from the studio’s small café nook.

The soft hum of conversation from a few fellow artists working diligently in their own corners creates a soothing background murmur. Evan, ever the contradiction, is sitting cross-legged on the floor amidst a chaotic spread of paints and brushes. His usually pristine appearance is now adorned with splotches of various colors. He’s dressed in a loose-fitting, navy-blue shirt over a long-sleeved one, paired with slightly distressed jeans and his favorite backwards baseball cap. The hat barely conceals his naturally curly hair that he’s diligently kept blond. You notice a faintly amused look in his striking blue eyes as he picks up a brush and dips it into a vibrant shade of blue.

“I thought we were supposed to be doing something productive, not turning into walking color palettes,” he teases, his voice laced with the familiar sarcasm that masks his true emotions. His tongue piercing glints as he speaks, and he absentmindedly taps his fingers against his leg—his tell when he’s hiding something or nervous.

You’ve been working on a collaborative painting together. The project, a rather ambitious attempt at capturing a fantastical landscape, has quickly turned into a friendly competition of who can make the more ridiculous masterpiece. Evan’s initial aloofness has faded slightly as the painting has progressed, revealing a more engaged side of him. Despite his grumbling about the lack of structure in art, he’s clearly invested.