Chapter 1 – Entering the Gallery

AN:

Oni: Hello my darling readers, I have adopted this story from the wonderful Lindsey6500 who can sadly not continue the story, so I am picking it up and attempting to see it through the end. To all those who are reading my Soul Eater fic Redemption, do not worry, I will still be updating it and hopefully at more frequent intervals!

Garry: Hopefully…

Oni: ANYWAYS, Ib and Harry Potter belong to their respective creators and most of this chapter and story up to chapter 10 is still credited to Lindsey6500, I will just be adding some minor details here and there and then continue full speed ahead with this thing!

Harry was ecstatic.

He and his relatives were going to an art gallery.

Normally a young teen wouldn't be so excited to go to an art gallery, but Harry wasn't like many teens his age.

After all, not many teens are orphans who lost their parents to a Dark Lord who tried to kill that child but somehow failed resulting in that child becoming famous. Not many teens were locked in a cupboard, starved, forced to work as a slave for that child's relatives, and physically and verbally abused because that child is a wizard.

No, Harry definitely wasn't like many children his age.

Harry walked behind his oversized relatives-Vernon, Petunia, and Dudley Dursley- fingering a lace handkerchief that had his name sewed into the corner with golden stitching, Harry had gotten this handkerchief from an anonymous sender who told him that the handkerchief he was given was made by his parents before their untimely death.

Harry walked into the art gallery that was made up of the paintings and sculptures that an artist named Weiss Guertena had painted. Harry's relatives walked up to the front desk to pick up pamphlets.

"Aunt Petunia, may I go further into the gallery?" Harry asked politely hoping he could go off on his own to look at the paintings.

Petunia glanced at her nephew, loathing in her eyes.

"Go boy, just be back here at 4 o'clock or we'll leave you here in America."

Harry knew she was only saying things generally kind to him because they were in public, if they had not been in a public place she would have slapped him and told him that freaks like him were not allowed to ask questions.

"I will," Harry told her trying to be as polite as possible.

"Go then."

Harry nodded nonchalantly before walking into the next area.

Harry took notice to the gathered people all staring at what looked to be some sort of lake or ocean that had a gigantic fish-like monster in its depths. This huge floor painting was titled "Abyss of the Deep", the main painting in the gallery.

Harry walked around the bottom floor gazing at each painting and studying the ones he took the most interest in, which weren't a lot of paintings just the "Abyss of the Deep" and a sculpture of a red rose titled "Embodiment of Spirit".

Seeing no more interesting artwork, Harry walked out of the main area and walked into the next section of the gallery; the upstairs area.

Immediately upon getting atop the next floor, Harry could already tell that he would find more interesting paintings.

Harry glanced at the far wall, observing the unique paintings that others had found captivating for one reason or another. One strange purple haired teen, Harry took notice of, was gazing intently at a painting.

Harry turned down to his right to see a series of what looked to be three headless mannequin ladies, all identical except for their dresses, which were all colored differently in the colors red, blue, and yellow. Harry walked down the hall to look at the title. "Death of the Individual" it was titled.

"In my opinion, what Guertena is saying here is that 'the individual' lies in one's expression. Which is why these figures don't have heads, see?"

Harry blinked upon hearing a sudden statement from a man who had been studying the mannequins, but after taking time to think about what the man had said, Harry couldn't help but find the man's theory quite logical.

"I guess so," Harry responded.

The man exclaimed with surprise, "Oho, I'm glad you understand! Yes, I'm sure that's it." The man turned back to the mannequin ladies.

Harry continued his way down glancing at the random sculptures and painting, yet strangely Harry could not shake the feeling of fear he received when he looked at the mannequin ladies and the painting of a women in a red dress with brown hair and red eyes titled "The Lady in Red". Harry found that the painting seemed to glare at him.

Harry continued his trip on the upstairs area for what seemed like hours until he came across a large painting that spanned across an entire wall. The painting was of a black background with other objects painted within, some of which seemed to be of a few other art pieces that were in the gallery as well as a red rose in the corner. The title of the painting was "Fabricated World".

Harry stared at the painting and felt a strange feeling within him, compelling him to reach out to the painting, to touch the painting. Slowly, Harry reached out with his hand to the strange painting.

Just as Harry's outstretched hand made contact with the painting, the lights flickered.

Harry looked around in surprise before realizing something.

"My relatives are going to blame me." Harry stated to himself, after all, if something strange happens Harry is always the one blamed, even if it was something or someone else who caused it.

"I better go find them."

Harry just turned the corner when he noticed something.

"Why is it so quiet?"

The sound of classical music that had been playing before in the background was gone as was the sound of conversations and the sound of shoes scraping against the floor. Everything was quiet.

Curiosity filled Harry as he hurried to the reception desk.

'Everyone's probably down there,' he thought, going down the steps and into the lobby.

No one was there.

The lights began to flicker around him before shutting off completely.

Harry, terrified, ran to the front doors of the gallery and reached out to the doorknob. Harry's hand clenched the doorknob and turned.

The doors were locked.

Backing up, Harry looked around and spotted a window. Immediately, he ran to it and glanced outside. Seeing only darkness, he backed away from the window just as a blood red liquid poured down the glass.

Footsteps rang around from what seemed like everywhere.

Harry truly realized his situation at that moment. He was trapped in the gallery by himself.

Harry ran up the stairs and turned to the window across from him to see a shadow of a person walk past the window from outside. Harry crossed the short distance and glanced out only to see the same darkness as before.

Sighing, he turned away from the window and began walking down the hallway.

BANG BANG

Harry jumped at the sudden noise and turned to its source, the window.

Harry walked over and looked at the glass to see small cracks against it. That was when Harry realized a startling fact.

He was on the second floor. It would have been impossible for someone to have walked past the window.

Harry ran from the window and down the hall not even caring about all the noise he was making.

As he ran Harry passed a picture with a piece of fruit drawn within its canvas. The fruit... fell from the painting and splattered against the floor. Harry heart sped up seeing this, after all he was in an art gallery made up of muggle paintings, nothing here was a moving picture from the magical world and even if it was, how could a piece of fruit fall out of its own canvas? Was it even possible in the magical world?

Harry shook himself out of his thoughts and turned down the corner and past a painting of a cat.

"MEOW!"

'Did...that cat just meow at me?' Harry thought as he quickly passed the painting.

Harry came to the hall that held the large "Fabricated World" painting. However, something had changed about it. Some blue paint had begun dripping out from underneath it. As Harry observed it, he heard a strange dripping sound come from behind him. Harry turned to the around to find a series of letters spelled across the floor in blue paint.

COME HARRY

Harry was just able to read them out when he heard a strange sound from behind him, turning around quickly he saw a message written in blue paint.

come down below harry ill show you someplace secret

Harry blinked at the sudden message and he felt literally terrified but at the same time relieved. After all, it could be a trap but he had no place to go or anything to do at that moment, plus, if it was someone else from the gallery then at least he would have company, right?

Harry continued down the hallway and was just about to turn the next corner when he heard a sudden sound, a cough.

'Is someone else here?'

Harry turned to face the spot where he had heard the cough only to see a painting; "The Coughing Man".

"W-what's going on?" Harry stuttered as he came to the staircase.

Harry walked on and came to the room that held the giant floor painting titled "Abyss of the Deep". At first the painting of the giant fish seemed to be the same as it was before, however, Harry noticed a set of blue painted footsteps that came to what used to be a part of rope that was now missing, opening the painting up.

Harry stepped over to the painting and glanced down to see the water of the painting rippling like real water.

"Well I got nothing else to do so I might as well get this over with."

Harry jumped into the painting.