I didn't expect anyone to see this ngl, but I have so many thoughts on this lil au, many of which align with what y'all have added. maybe getting some details out into the world will help motivate me to write and post the actual story, so here are just a few more:
harry's mind cycles through horrible images every time he closes his eyes. his drawings are disconcerting because they're graphic, yes, but more than that it's because they're all from his own point of view: strange angles, distorted memories, his own hands or body visibly in frame. when you look at his art you're seeing his trauma through his own eyes. just something to keep in mind while you peruse this, a non-comprehensive list of things harry has drawn:
cedric diggory, smeared in mud, clothing torn, eyes blank.
amos diggory, sobbing over his son's body.
vernon dursley, face blotchy with ire, harry's leg in his grasp, standing behind broken bars.
the basilisk, eyes bloody, jaws gaping as it bears down.
arthur weasley, body convulsing, bathed in his own blood, venom running through his veins.
an army of dementors, floating over a great lake, darkness creeping in from all sides.
a pair of dementors, floating through a narrow alleyway, darkness creeping in from all sides.
albus dumbledore, agony written into every wrinkle, eyes and mouth begging for mercy.
a still lake, hands dipping into its water, bodies visible in its depths.
inferi, arms reaching, hands grabbing, trying to drag harry far below.
ginny weasley, face pale, eyes closed, hair splayed over ink-soaked tiles.
draco malfoy, face pale, eyes open, hair splayed over blood-soaked tiles.
a dying unicorn, silver blood shining, a shadowed figure hunched above it.
lord voldemort, rising from a cauldron, resurrected.
albus dumbledore, face slack, body tipping backward into the night.
sirius black, face slack, body tipping backward into the veil.
a werewolf, teeth bared, full moon glowing in the sky, a black-cloaked arm obscuring part of the view.
severus snape, tears shining, blood seeping through harry's fingers.
gilderoy lockhart, smirking, broken wand raised.
quirinus quirrell, skin melting under harry's hands, embers lighting, smoke rising.
splintered wooden bars, dark blurry shapes, the world tinted green.
the mirror of erised, a young and hopeful harry, james and lily standing proud beside him.
the mirror of erised, a young and fearful harry, lord voldemort standing furious beside him.
(and finally, a motley crew of gruesome images as seen through voldemort's and nagini's eyes, which I won't detail here for the sake of not spoiling certain plotlines.)
and harry doesn't just draw each of these things once. no, whatever scenes are featured in his nightmares, he spends his next waking hours drawing them, obsessively, over and over and over again, trying to get them out of his head by putting them on paper, until he finally passes out again from sheer exhaustion. and then, of course, the cycle continues. so yeah, his bedroom looks like a hurricane of ink- and pencil-coated paper. and yeah, he goes through sketchbooks like a heartbroken romcom lead goes through tissues. how could he not?
