Welcome readers to the revised version of Harry Through the Looking Glass. I will be taking down the original version in a few days time when I post the chapter one of this one.

Following the loss of the late great Alan Rickman I started going over my Harry Potter stories again and I noticed some issues with this one that really needed addressing. It's taken me this long to post because for once in my life I planned out my whole story before beginning to rewrite.

This story is dedicated to all of the readers that I have kept hanging on for so bloody long with this storyline, thank you guys I hope you'll like my altered version of this fic.

Disclaimer: Listen very carefully, I shall say this only once. I do not own Harry Potter, I'm just playing with JK Rowling's wonderful creation for a while, all I own are my OCs and any part of the plot that you don't recognize from book or movie.

Prologue

Harry Potter stared at the mirror in awe. It wasn't the mirror itself which captivated him so, but the image it held. Harry's reflection was surrounded by people: men and women of all ages, nearly all of whom bore some resemblance to him. Through this mirror Harry could see where he had got many of his own features- his nose, his chin… and if he wasn't much mistaken his own nobly knees. Tears stung his eyes as Harry realized just what it was that the mirror was showing him.

For the first time in his life he was looking at his family.

A hand on his shoulder startled him and Harry whipped around to find an empty room. Frowning Harry returned his attention to the mirror and saw a hand resting on his reflection's shoulder. Following the arm attached to that hand upwards Harry's eyes met a pair of hazel ones smiling at him from the face of a tall, thin, black haired man who looked just like he did.

"Dad?" he breathed.

The reflection of James Potter nodded, smiling at him with a crooked grin that was not his own. Next Harry looked into a pair of green eyes, the very same size and shape as his own shining out of the face of the beautiful red haired woman beside his father, smiling Harry's own smile.

"Mum?" he blinked furiously as the tears returned to his eyes.

Harry stiffened as he felt a hand ruffle his hair. In the mirror there was a girl standing right beside him. The girl, who looked like she could be in fourth year, was ruffling his already messy hair with her knuckles. The girl looked as much like his mother as he did his father but her eyes were the same hazel as James'. It occurred to him that this girl might well be a sister to him.

This was all he wanted- a family to love him for just being Harry.

He didn't want to be famous, especially not for something he didn't remember; especially since his rise to fame had taken his parents from him. Why must he be the 'Boy Who Lived'? Why couldn't he have what everyone else took for granted?

Harry took a step towards the mirror as if, if he wished hard enough, he could step through the glass and join this perfect family that Voldemort had taken from him ten years ago.

The glass was warm under his fingers, warm and oddly fluid.

Alarmed Harry tried to pull away but the glass came with him. The harder he pulled, the tighter the glass gripped his fingers- he was trapped.

All at once, as if sensing his surrender the mirror snapped back into a smooth surface, dragging Harry and the invisibility cloak in his hand through its surface and into the unknown.

~v~

Next time: Harry receives a less than stellar welcome to a whole new world.