Reflection

---Part the First:---

----- Only an instant ------

Harry's head bounced lightly against the train window, waking him from his troubled sleep.

He frowned, seeing Neville and Luna sleeping soundly across from him. He rubbed his sore eyes and cleared his throat softly while straightening his askew glasses.

"Lucky…"he grumbled, not really aware that he had said it out loud, and he rose from the seat, stretching his arms and legs simultaneously as he yawned widely.

He shook his head groggily and slid open the compartment doors, tripping a bit as the train shook on its rails, throwing him off balance. He caught himself quickly, not caring if anyone saw his clumsiness. It didn't matter anymore.

Sirius was gone. Dumbledore was gone. No one wanted to talk to him. Even Hermione and Ron were reluctant to speak with him in his current foul, saddened mood.

'Why did I even wake up?' He thought glumly, leaning against the door of the compartment opposite the one he had just exited. It was then that his abdomen shot a familiar, ticklish muscle spasm out and he immediately tightened the space between his legs, 'Oh, yeah…'

He took off at a fast-walk down the shaky hall, ignoring other students that passed by him every now and then and the odd looks they gave him.

'I know it's around here some-ah!' He smiled emptily in relief, disappearing into the small bathroom to relieve himself.

As the soft echo of the rushing water faded, he found himself staring into jade-green eyes, warm water passing freely over his hands.

He looked horrible. His hair was a wreck-worse than normal, anyway, and his face pale and sickly looking. Even his eyes, his normally bright, glimmering eyes had lost their luster.

Just as he turned off the sink, he caught a shimmer of a familiar face in the mirror and he immediately spun around, falling back into the sink as a soft voice fell over his ears, 'Harry…'

He shook his head warily, "Must be losing my mind…" he said, rubbing his temples, "Not that I had much left to lose."

He slid his thumb and forefinger under his glasses and rubbed his eyes with one hand, simultaneously opening the door. Without really being aware of where he was going, his body thudded into that of another.

"What the—oh, Potter…"

Harry looked up and saw the familiar face of Crabbe staring down at him, well, you couldn't quite say familiar. The familiar, smug look on his face was twisted in a panic. He was looking at Harry as though he had just seen the Dark Lord himself—if Crabbe was as dumb as he looked then even he, with a Death Eater for a father, would be afraid to see that.

Harry frowned and glared at the thick-set boy with a cold disliking freezing over his eyes, "Crabbe." He spat bitterly.

Crabbe's eyes fell and he shuffled out of the way. Harry could tell be his stance that, did he not have to use the restroom, he would have fled this confrontation instead of simply standing aside.

An odd pulse swam through Harry's body just then, tickling his nerves in an oddly pleasing way. It felt good to have someone fear you.

'Make him wish he were never born!' A sharp voice pined into the back of his mind, clawing at the memories of the many times Crabbe and Goyle had so brutally followed the orders of the blond slimeball that they called their leader unto he and his friends. Harry ignored the voice of temptation, as he did almost every time it called to him—or, at least he tried to ignore it.

'Kill him! You remember what he did to you and your friends!' The voice grew stronger, more volatile and insistent, 'Do it! NOW!'

'Shut up!' Harry's own conscious bit at the clawing temptation fiercely, chasing the hissing creature back into the black pits of Harry's mind.

All while this happened, Crabbe had been watching Harry's facial movements go from annoyance to anger and back to a cool, calm standstill.

"Um…H-Harry?" Crabbe dared to speak softly, despite the gnarl of fear in his stomach.

"What?" Harry snapped at him, feeling a bit insulted by the brute having said his first name.

"Uh…are you d-done with the bathroom?" He asked squeakily, voice trembling.

"Well, I'm not in it you git, so I think I'm done." Harry snarled sarcastically, "Or maybe I'll go get a razor and shave…make you hold it awhile."

Crabbe flinched. That tone reminded him strongly of Malfoy, with the unpleasant snides and the sarcastic remarks he always gave he and Goyle.

Harry laughed dryly and walked away, hearing Crabbe crash into the bathroom just as he turned.

'What an idiot.' He mused boredly, a bit of a smirk peeking out in the corners of his mouth, 'I can understand why Malfoy hung out with him and Goyle…they'd make great servants. Dumb as rocks.'

He slid open the compartment door and saw Luna and Neville avidly talking about a potion that had been made by some young man with a sixth finger in The Quibbler.

They both looked up at him and were immediately quieted. Luna stared up at him with her wide, interested eyes. He'd always thought somehow (he had no idea why) she had been able to see him—not what everyone else saw—but what he really was.

He didn't even think he knew what or who exactly he really was—but she did. She seemed to see into and right on through him with bright, curious eyes…

"Hi, Harry." He snapped out of his thoughts and looked over to Neville, who was looking at him as though he'd been greeting him for twenty minutes already.

"Oh, uh—Hey, Neville." Harry muttered, returning to his seat—fully aware that their eyes followed his every step, "Umm…" he withdrew a bit from their bright, curious eyes, "I went to the bathroom."

They blinked, both dumbfounded, and some of their eagerness and interest seemed to fade.

"What?" Neville's face contorted with confusion, but Luna, on the other hand, smiled airily.

"Did it feel nice?" She asked absently, "I think I'll go to the bathroom, too."

Harry blinked, "Um…okay. You do that."

He shook his head as she walked foggily out the door, a smile on her face and a blank, dumbfounded glow to her eyes. He chose to ignore Neville after that and for the rest of the trip shut his eyes, letting sleep take over him once more.

Part the First, End