Although she hadn't known that Starry Night was one of his favorites, it pleased her nonetheless. There was simply something timeless about it. "Lovely," she murmured, still a bit flushed.
"Oh yes! But first..." She trailed off, picking up her wand so that she could cast the stasis charms on the pumpkins they'd finished so that they wouldn't rot, allowing them to toss them into nature for the animals to eat or to compost them safely. That done, she picked up the pumpkin he'd created for her, holding it up in front of her to marvel at the intricacies, the level of detail he'd accomplished. It was gorgeous.
Jules stood up and led him up the stairs into the loft. It was a large, open space, shelves taking up the far wall around the window for extra storage of the supplies she used most often. Scattered around the room were about a dozen easels, and plenty of her art hung on the walls, some of which she would sell, some she would gift, and few she would keep for herself. When they reached the top of the stairs and turned into the loft, the painting she most wanted him to see, to see his reaction to, was hung in plain view, not blocked by anything else in the room. It was the closest she could get to a visual representation of the prism-like explosion of light and colors she'd seen when they'd touched hands in Diagon Alley that day. Jules stepped aside and turned to look at his face as his view of the painting was clear.