Hi everyone!
This chapter is going to be the beginning of the story and I just want to lay down the groundwork for how I plan for it to go. Feel free to skip past the Author's note though!
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I haven't published anything here as opposed to a few other places where I did some short stuff for the heck of it and dropped it after my initial burst of inspiration died a flaming death. ;)
I hope this goes better, since I want to plan this out some and finally commit to a long-term project of my own that isn't a rushed project of a school assignment, haha...
I want to write something a bit longer, so I hope the mobile app lets me do it, otherwise I'll just have to write in notes and upload to google docs and copy and paste from there on AO3 or something.
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The idea for Harry becoming Springtrap was introduced in "My Body's Still Mending, You're in for a Sight" by DarkBlur2005. While it is no longer available to read, the idea stuck with me and inspired me to write my own take on it, since Springtrap is my favorite character.
I will most likely be listening to music while writing these, so It's not a songfic, but sometime lyrics just kinda stick and resonate with you, ya know?
But anyways! I hope you enjoy what I have so far! Favorite, follow, or leave a comment to let me know what kind of ideas I should incorporate into the story!
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Redesign Your Logo (Lemon Demon)
"Here we have a circle, smooth and inoffensive
This will be the basis, for your evolution"
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It was a cloudy afternoon in Surrey and a storm was on its way, which wasn't surprising for Harry; he could always feel the charge in the air during his early morning walk to school through the bone-thin rags his aunt made him wear.
"I wish I had a coat," Harry muttered, shivering. "Then it wouldn't be so bloody cold all the time."
Oh, sure, any witch or wizard could have magicked up a puffy-sleeved jacket, if those insular inbreds even knew what one looked like, with a wave of their wand and stopped the onslaught of wind from reaching their exposed skin, but Harry couldn't do that. You see, at this point in time, Harry Potter did not know he was a wizard.
For a boy fresh out of his fifth-grade class, the autumn air was most unwelcoming. Rubbing his hands together and then up and down his arms, he continued onwards, stopping every few minutes to puff hot air on his hands again before running them over his arms and sticking them in his oversized pockets once more.
"My Diddikins is having his birthday at that new pizza place downtown next week, and you're going to stay with Mrs. Figg until we come back, you hear me?" Petunia said in that horrid voice of hers, making him wince.
"Yes, Aunt Petunia," Harry intoned while scrubbing the kitchen floor, knowing there was no way his relatives would bring him with. Not to a place like that. To a place where Harry would be able to enjoy pizza and soda without being limited to only one slice and having to go to his cupboard hungry? As if.
"And while you're at it, dust the shelves in the sitting room," his aunt commanded, "and make it snappy! The ladies from the neighborhood are coming over tomorrow and I don't want them to see a speck of dirt while I'm serving tea!"
"Yes, Aunt Petunia," Harry droned. Today was going to be a long day.