Harry Potter sat alone in the Room of Requirement.
In front of him was an easel, holding up a pure white canvas. Beside it was a tray filled with paint, with many empty places to mix the colors.
Harry himself was sitting on a stool, holding a paintbrush in his right hand.
He closed his eyes.
A soft glow encased his body, then traveled to his hand, which slowly dipped into the black paint.
And Harry, his eyes still closed, created art.
Over an hour later, he reopened his eyes, now moistened with unshed tears.
The canvas was no longer white, but a swirl of blacks, greys, blues, and greens. In the center was his cupboard under the stairs. Its door was shut, locked and bolted, but a small grate set in the top was open.
Through the slits in the grate, two bright green eyes peeped through. Red lines surrounded the green, giving the eyes a bloodshot appearance.
Around the edges on the canvas was color. Bright shades of yellow, pink, and orange danced in undefined patterns, just beyond reach. Around the cupboard, was black. Grey. Sharp spikes, ragged edges, and choking thickness.
In the darkness, deep grey chains were barely visible, circling the cupboard, as if to keep the eyes imprisoned.
The very center of the eyes, the deep black pupils, reflected the bright pastel colors, and at the same time, the colors swirled towards the center, as if being pulled into the eyes, an imprint of hope, in the land of despair.
Harry picked up the magically dried canvas, and turned it over. He bent over the back, writing something in the corner in black paint.
He dried the message, and carried the finished painting over to his portfolio.
All his life showed in his paintings and sketches. He would never show these to another soul.
As he left the room, and it returned to its normal state, his painting's message was read by Hogwarts herself. As Harry returned to the Gryffindor common room, he did not notice that all the stairways aligned themselves to make the trip easier. Nor did he notice when he went through a secret passage he had never noticed before. He did not see Hogwarts trying to lighten his pain in the only way She could.
"Artist: Harry J. Potter
Date:
October 16th
Title: Color Blind"
A/N: Wow…this popped out of nowhere. What can I say? I love Artist!Harry. Hey, if you review, and you know a good Artist!Harry fic (not a "Harry is a blind painter in NY" type, but a "Harry releases his emotions by drawing" type), can you leave the name of it in your review? Thanks.