Word Count: 300
Easter Egg: Stripe Egg, Day: 28. Artist!AU
Paint On A Canvas
He couldn't believe that he'd finally made it here. He walked around the gallery slowly, his steps measured. He stopped to look at every piece hung on the walls, blending in with the crowds that had gathered there. He had a glass of champagne in his hand, just like many others, though he hadn't taken as much as a sip.
He wanted to remember every second of this.
When he'd left Hogwarts after the final battle, Harry hadn't intended to leave Wizarding Britain for good. He'd meant to take a break, travel a little, learn who he was.
He hadn't expected to fall in love with painting—the Muggle way specifically—and he hadn't expected to find enough to want to live in the Muggle world for.
But he had.
Gone were his aspirations of being an Auror. Gone was his want to return home to see if Ginny still wanted him. He could stay here and be unknown. Sell his paintings and live amongst people who didn't see his scar and immediately know who he was.
Proof, in fact, that he was an unknown here was that these paintings on the walls were his. Born of his grief, his love, his excitement, his nightmares and dreams, his life and even his death. Paintings he'd cried over. Paintings he'd spent weeks perfecting.
All his and not a single person here knew it. He could be just one of the crowd, even when that crowd were whispering excitedly about his work, and they'd never know.
This, he thought, was what he loved about being an artist.
The anonymity. He could be anyone. Everyone. Noone.
It didn't matter.
He was just paint on a canvas to these people and he loved it.
He loved it so much that he didn't think he'd ever leave.