Harry Moffer 4 (Photo credit: claireviolet82)
“After realizing that it was all a fantasy and that his life still sucked, he was not a legendary hero, there was no magical academy where he would have friends and fans, and his parents’ death was really just an ordinary car accident, Harry reached up one last time to find he also didn’t really have a scar.”
What just happened? Harry Potter woke up back in his room. It wasn’t really much of a room; just a bed and a chest of drawers in a group home setting. In fact, there were several more beds in the place, which were surrounded by grey walls and no windows. How did I get to this place, he wondered to himself.
Little did he realize that his uncle and aunt had secretly sent him to the home when he began talking about magic and wizards and refusing to act like a normal boy. Harry also didn’t know what a group home was; he just pretended that the home was a magical school where he had friends, he was a legendary hero, and had millions of fans. He had gone on with this fantasy…at least until someone slapped him across his face.
“What gives?” Harry cried out.
“You,” said a girl (who was not Hermione Granger) who was standing over him. “You act so crazy, they’re about five seconds from sending you to the crazy house. That’s why your relatives got rid of you; they can’t handle your crazy. Can’t you be like everyone else?”
“You mean, there is no Hogwarts?” Harry cried out.
“No,” said a boy (who was not Ron Weasley) who stood next to the girl. “There’s no such thing as Hogwarts. In fact, there’s no such thing as magic at all. Now stop being crazy and grow up.”
The children walked away and slammed the door to Harry’s room shut, leaving Harry to wallow in the filth of his shame. He couldn’t believe that the greatest adventures of his life was nothing more than a fantasy that he made up in his head. He wasn’t famous, he had no friends, he had no fans, he wasn’t a wizard, and he certainly couldn’t do magic, as there was no such thing as magic. He stared into a mirror (or what appeared to be a mirror) and discovered that he did not have a scar.
My whole life is a lie, Harry thought to himself as his dream quickly evaporated, leaving him cold and alone. No one wanted to speak to him because of his fantasies and those who did smacked him around. Harry needed to grow up immediately. Perhaps he really needed to see a doctor about his delusions.