((My first try at a fanfic. Wasn't really intended to be... but anywho! Please leave comments on how I can improve ect. I know it's short, but if I get people enjoying it I'll make the next ones longer.))
Rawr: I do not own Harry, or any of the characters used in this story. I do not own any places or names ect. Those belong to J.K Rowling. I have written this on my own, so therefore that makes it my own. Don't steal, it's not fun No profit made from this blah blah.
//-//-Chapter 1 - The Mirror in the mist-//-//
He inhaled slowly, the icy air nipping his throat and engulfing his lungs. Where the hell was he? He couldn't really see much past the thick fog that seemed endless; he brushed back black tangled hair out of his eyes and stared up. There was no sky… not as such anyway. It was just black, dark and cold. Nothing was moving in the sky and there were most certainly no stars.
How did he get here? He asked himself this constantly upon awaking about twenty minutes ago, he didn't remember anything about where he'd been previously. He felt at his forehead and pain seared through his entire body forcing him to fall to his knees. He plunged his hand into the pocket of his ripped jeans. Nothing. The wooden stick he relied so much upon wasn't there. He shivered, half with cold and half with fear. He cautiously walked forward, his forehead still stinging painfully.
What was that…? Glass? A door perhaps? Maybe even a trick of his mind, the fog was too thick to really see anything, but the smooth surface he had just seen in the distance glinted invitingly. He ran towards it, his baggy red T-shirt flowing a little behind him as he ran. His thin legs carried him closer and closer towards the shining wall in the distance, heart racing.
Reaching the surface he panted and breathed heavily. He saw himself, his thin body and his red T-shirt, torn jeans and black scruffy hair. He also saw a small lightning shaped scar, etched on his forehead. It was glowing… a putrid shade of green, as if it was diseased. The boy stared at it, transfixed upon this strange sight. His scar had never done this before…
As he stared his reflection started to move without him. It… was transforming. His face became much longer, pale and cold. His eyes narrowed and turned an unforgiving shade of red, his nostrils became slits, his lips shrunk and lost all colour. He could see his hands growing too, turning white, and his shabby muggle clothes receded slightly and then long black robes flowed out of them.
The scar however, remained.
'Hello, Harry Potter.' The snakelike figure hissed, in a high and cold voice. His eyes fixed hungrily on the teenage boy.