A young mind is a wonderful thing. Still filled with imagination. Full of laughter and songs that take place in wonderfully colorful fields of flowers. Unknowing of the dangers of the world. However, that is not the case for young Harry Potter. The boy who would sit in front of the typewriter for hours, his fingers dancing gracefully across the keys. Telling stories of adventure and loss. Of dreams and many wonderful beings. Stories of fear and darkness that creeps into the mind, sending men into insanity. Harry Potter didn't have an innocent mind.
Harry was seven when he found the typewriter. It had been sitting in the Dursley's attic for many years, its keys collecting dust. He had tripped over one of Dudley's old video games and fallen just before it. Harry had examined it, wondering why the Dursleys had stuck it up in the attic. He pulled it out and pressed a few keys. Harry couldn't stop. He sat in the attic for hours, creating a world where secrets were around every corner. When men could be more than just that. Where dangers paved every path.
Harry wrote what he saw. Different versions of his own reality. His writing was his way to escape his own life. His neighbor Mrs. Figg? In his stories she was the old woman who would always give travelers a place to stay. She had lived a life of hardship and wanted none other to feel how she had. His maths teacher was the hunter. He was swift in his thinking. Always up for a challenge. However, he was easily angered. Dudley Dursley was the Mayor's son. He received what he wanted when he asked. There was no alternative as he knew none else, no better. He was raised spoiled. And Mr. and Mrs. Dursley? They were Kings and Queens. They had the public twisted around their fingers, no one dared oppose their opinions for fear of rejection. They opposed anything out of the ordinary and went to extreme lengths to get what they wanted.
Harry saw no black and white. He saw the many shades of gray that twisted and turned reality. He could see no evil nor good. The line between the two was well beyond blurred for Harry. Perhaps that's what lead to the experiments. What led the sweet charming lad down what many would call the
wrong road. What caused him to walk right where that line used to be.