Title: Shattering Mirrors

Originally By: Hades' Phoenix

Redone By: Crysania Fay

Summary: Professor Xavier and his X-Men find a young, broken boy, with a type of power that has always been regarded a mere fairy tale. Literally. Thus the legacy of Harry Potter, powerful and hardened, is brought into a world where wizards and witches don't exist and mankind is poised on the brink of a devastating war between human and mutant.

Pairings: Past Harry/Draco; Scott/Jean

Rating/Warnings: R. Major angst. Tortured!Harry, as well as Powerful! and Dark!Harry. Also, I never saw the full series of X-Men: Evolution, so I'll have to create my own endings for Magneto and whatnot. There will also be aspects of the movies and the actual comics thrown in as well. Mentions of non-con and gratuitous violence.

Disclaimer: Nope, nothing's mine. Except for the people, places, and things you don't recognize.

Note From Crysania: Hades' Phoenix gave her permission for anyone to continue this story, so I am. Though I will be going through the whole story and changing certain things that I never liked or won't work with the way that I want to have this story go. I have to thank Hades' for coming up with this idea. I read this faithfully, and when chapter 11 came up, I was VERY mad to find that she had stopped. I ranted and raved. Then I read that she was allowing others to continue, and I was like, YAY!Plot PlotSo here is the new version of Shattering Mirrors. I hope you enjoy.

words in italics without proper capitalization--past memories.

Words in bold--mental speech between Harry and Chatoyant.

Other phrases in Italics--Harry's thoughts.

I don't know what's worth fighting for, or why I have to scream...

I don't know why I instigate, and say what I don't mean...

I don't know how I got this way; I'll never be alright...

So I'm breaking the habit

I'm breaking the habit tonight

I'll paint it on the walls

Cuz I'm the one at fault

I'll never fight again

And this is how it ends...

Linkin Park, Breaking the Habit

"I so totally cannot wait for the dance."

Scott mentally groaned as Kitty happily chattered on in the backseat of his sports car about Bayville High's winter dance coming up next Friday night, just over a week and a half away.

"So who's your date?" Jean Grey asked curiously with a sly grin, the redhead twisting around in her front seat to look at the preppy sophomore. Scott prepared himself for another bout of 'Girl Gossip' as Kurt called it, pulling to a stop at a snowy intersection a few miles from the Xavier Institute for Gifted Children.

"Is it Lance?" Kurt Vaugner wheedled in his heavily accented tenor, batting his eyelashes dramatically and dodging a swipe from Kitty.

"Like, gross! And like what's up with Amanda?"

"She already knows about everyone, it's okay."

"You so know that's not what I meant!"

Scott, Jean, Kitty, and Kurt, among many others, were mutants, humans that possessed an extra gene called the 'X gene'. This gene granted them abilities most humans did not possess, making them a target for many cruel criticisms and discriminations. Ever since the rest of mankind had found out about this strange strain of DNA, paranoia, fear, and hatred were common traits people showed towards mutants. Were they evil demons? God's vengeance? Results from an experiment gone wrong? Or just a bunch of freaks?

Scott Summers managed to tune out the gossiping girls in his car as he drove steadily between the rising snow banks on either side of the road towards the place he called home. Professor Charles Xavier had mentioned something that morning about feeling something different, like something big was going to happen. It wasn't this announcement itself that was really bothering him; it was the matter of whether this 'something big' would prove to be beneficial-or disastrous.

After Magneto had been defeated, the rest of his Brotherhood had been disbanded and hidden themselves in various places around the world. Fortunately, with the help of Cerebro, Xavier was able to keep track of each mutant's abilities to ensure that they weren't used against humans any longer. Scott mused thoughtfully. Perhaps one of them was attacking humans? It was possible, though unlikely. Sabretooth was dead; Pyro probably didn't have the guts to do something like that; Mystique wasn't stupid and knew enough not to go against Xavier without a cause; the local Brotherhood were limited to basic vandalisms and fights with the mutants of the Institute; Gambit had converted and was slowly adjusting to life at the Institute, so it wasn't him. Dear God, hopefully Juggernaut hadn't gotten free again.

As he pulled up the long drive in front of the large white manor, Kurt yelping and bamfing out of the car to avoid Kitty's angry attack dragged the older boy away from his thoughts, reappearing a few yards away in the branches of a tree.

"Aw, come on Kitty, I was just teasing!"

"You furry little elf, come back here! Oh my God, it's totally freezing out here!"

Jean laughed at the antics of the two young mutants, slipping an arm around Scott's waist for warmth.

"I'm glad Kurt got over his Kitty crush long ago," she said as they stepped past the twin doors and into the large and, most importantly, warm entrance hall. Scott whole-heartedly agreed, saying that the two were so much like bickering siblings a romantic relationship between them would have been very, very strange.

"Scott, Jean, there you are."

The two college students stopped and turned simultaneously, meeting an older man seated in a wheelchair.

"Hey Professor," Scott greeted amiably.

"It would appear that the X-men are needed," Professor Xavier said solemnly in return. "As I told you this morning, Cerebro was picking up strange psychic patterns, but just a few moments ago the readings spiked dramatically."

"A new mutant, or has Magneto somehow come back?"

"I believe it is a new mutant, though I can't be sure. I've never seen such readings; if it is a mutant, it is either an extremely powerful one, or...it is possible that the X gene may have...mutated somehow."

"Is that even possible?" Jean wondered aloud, concerned.

"I don't know. Since the X gene is specific to every person that carries it-which is why there are so many different kinds of mutants-it's impossible to say."

"Did you manage to track down the source?"

"I believe so. What was strange, though, was that I had trouble reaching past the source's barriers, meaning they are either a psychic or have dealt with them before. I wasn't able to pick up much because of the distance and the source's resistance, but from what I could...I would suggest that all of you take extra precaution."

The tall college student cursed silently to himself. If Professor Xavier, the most powerful telepath that currently lived, had trouble reaching into this person's mind, just what kind of person would they prove to be?

And what could Professor X have gotten from this person to warn them to be careful?

Scott hated having so many questions, though at least his previous worries were no longer in existence.

"I'll go tell the others," he volunteered, gently disentangling himself from his girlfriend's waist and moving towards the doors.

Kitty and Kurt were having a snowball fight along with several of the younger students at the Institute, all screaming and laughing and messing around, with the valley girl Kitty complaining loudly about her new jacket being ruined.

"God, you guys, I like just bought this!"

"Lighten up, Kitty, you're tense," Kurt grinned at her, his blue fur matted to his skinny frame by the wet snow. His three-fingered hands were each holding snowballs ready to fly, and his forked tail brandished another threateningly. The golden almond eyes glittered in mischievous happiness.

Though other matters pressed him, Scott couldn't help but be glad that Kurt was acting his old self once again. When his true appearance had been made public, he possibly suffered the worst attacks from people who thought he was a real demon. He had withdrawn into himself, becoming sullen and moody and self-deprecating, as the fire in his soul had been beaten down almost to extinction. His store of trust had been worn down, and it had taken a long time for the elf to trust and open up once again. And while he may have looked like a furry, blue evil creature, the brilliant golden eyes were too kind and the heart too soft and caring to ever really enable those who truly knew him to think of him as the bloodthirsty creature he was often painted out to be.

Scott shook his head; he was becoming as bad as Jean, spacing off at odd times to think.

"Kitty, Kurt, Spike! Come on, X-Men business!"

A bit reluctantly the three mentioned teens pulled themselves away from the others and jogged up to Scott.

"What's up with the prof?" Spike asked curiously, the skateboarder brushing snow off the shoulder of his bomber jacket.

Scott motioned for them to follow him back inside the Institute. "Apparently, there's a new mutant, but the professor isn't sure exactly who or what they are."

Kurt grinned and waved cheerily. "See all you slowpokes inside!"

And he teleported away.

"We have to be careful. Professor X seems a bit worried," Scott said, giving them a pointed look.

"Like when have we NOT been careful?" Kitty asked nonchalantly, putting her arms behind her head and walking with a purposeful saunter.

"Do you really want me to answer that?" Scott retorted dryly.

"No," Spike answered quickly.

"Just, this time, no fooling around. We don't know what we're up against."

"Here?" Rogue asked incredulously in her heavy Southern accent, peering out into the thick lining of trees not far from where the so-named 'X-Jet' had landed. Her gloved hands were buried deep within the folds of her long black trench coat, and she didn't relish the prospect of having to trek through a snow-covered forest in zero-degree weather, even more so during a full moon.

"According to the professor," Scott said, though his confident voice was slightly tinged with doubt.

Sighing, Rogue unbuckled her seatbelt and stood near the exit of the jet, waiting for Logan, alias Wolverine, to release the catch.

"Don't worry, sis, I'll keep you warm," Kurt piped, slinging an arm around the punk with a wink. "Sure makes you wish you had fur like me, huh?"

"Not particularly," she muttered, though her purple-colored lips curved slightly at the corners in a faint smile. Kurt pretended to look wounded, giving her large puppy eyes that, though she would never admit it, made her heart feel softer towards her adopted brother.

"That's enough Kurt," Scott sternly admonished. "Remember the professor's warning to be cautious?"

Rogue hid her smile at Kurt's faked innocence.

"Okay, now we aren't sure where exactly this mutant is," he continued speaking to the rest of the group, the lens of his eyepiece reflecting ruby in the rising moonlight. "So that means we're going to have to split up."

"Storm, I would like you to stay here with the jet," Xavier began. "Then you will be able to keep our vision clear without interruption. Rogue, Kurt, go with Jean."

Rogue mentally groaned; Jean was great and all, but quite honestly the older mutant got on her nerves a bit too easily for her to be comfortable with.

"Kitty and Spike please go with Scott."

By now, everyone had learned that Logan preferred being able to 'hunt' alone.

"What about you, Professor?" Kitty inquired.

"I will be going with your group."

"Oh."

"Jean, keep your mind open in case anything goes wrong."

"Of course."

There was brief moment of silence.

"If that's all," Rogue drawled, finally punching the release on the hatch, "then what are we waiting for? Let's get this over with."

She strode confidently down the ramp, Kurt moving just behind her.

"Well, c'mon!" he called out. "Last one is a Blob!"

The small group of X-Men finally set off into different directions. Rogue watched Logan lope off straight into the thickest part of the trees.

"Think he'll be able to smell anything in this weather?" Rogue wondered aloud. Kurt shrugged. Jean didn't answer; she was too busy opening her mind to the surrounding areas to try and detect a stirring, unfamiliar human mind.

The fresh snow crunched beneath her heavy black boots, and the atmosphere was warmer inside the trees by a fraction of a degree. She guessed it was because the chilling wind's probing fingers was being blocked by the huge megaliths of ancient life stretching out from the cold ground towards the dark moon-filled sky. She had always had rather excellent night vision; her hazel eyes picked apart the space between tree trunks and beneath every bush to try and find some clue to the person's whereabouts, the moonlight adding a surreal glow to her surroundings.

"Have you found him yet?" Kurt asked Jean quietly, and the telekinetic telepath shook her head.

"No, only the other X-Men and a few larger animals."

"I wonder where he could be?"

"How do you know it's a guy?" Rogue demanded, her voice slightly testy.

Kurt looked taken aback. "I don't, but I thought it would just be easier to call him a 'he' instead of 'that person' or 'it'."

Rogue had to admit he had a point, just before she cursed softly. A low whippy branch had snagged the hem of her long coat.

"Shh," Jean said sharply, suddenly stopping in her tracks and concentrating. Rogue snorted, crossing her arms and leaning against a tree. Her curiosity was beginning to get peaked. Had Jean or the prof found the new mutant yet? Should prove to be interesting.

The thought of a roaring fire and hot chocolate with little marshmallows swimming freely as they melted made her wish that the search would hurry itself up.

She was cold.

Mississippi was never this cold.

"I found something." Jean's voice cut into her thoughts abruptly. Pointing in a northerly direction, Jean murmured, "That way. I already let the professor know, he'll meet us over there."

"Let's go then," Rogue snapped out, irritated, as she pushed herself away from the tree and resolutely moved in the direction the redhead had indicated.

Kurt teleported out of sight, returning a moment later a few yards in front of the two girls' path. "I checked out the area from a bird's view," he reported, pulling a twig from his long indigo hair. "I don't see anything unusual, other than a big open space with a rather small lake."

"Thanks, Kurt," Jean answered, smiling tightly. Rogue watched her carefully with one eye, the other making sure that she wouldn't trip over a stray root. Their esteemed leader was tense about something, as her lips were thinner than usual and her jade green eyes narrowed slightly; apparently whatever she had sensed had her worried.

Kurt saluted smartly and bounded forward on all fours, running lightly over the frigid earth like a young deer. His tail whipped back and forth, his pointed ears finely tuned for any outside movement.

For what Rogue guessed to be between ten or fifteen minutes, the trio walked as quietly as they could, searching, seeking for any signs of the anomalous mutant. The trees seemed only to thicken, and she gradually became aware of a thin breeze slipping fluidly between the wide-girthed giants of trees, before they quite suddenly became spaced out and stopped altogether. Rogue cautiously peered forward past the last tree, her breath catching.

Moonlight poured in endless streams across the night sky-darkened water's surface, glittering and flowing softly, seeming to wrap every blade of grass in a pale gentle grip. The snowfall had obviously ceased some time before, as there were now only faint swirls of powder occasionally caught on a chilled yet playful breeze.

A fairly tall person stood near the edge of the small lake with the back turned to the forest, the frayed hem of the long, faded black coat moved silently by the same breezes that swirled the powder and tugged lightly upon the dark hair pulled into a small ponytail at the nape of the neck. Torn baggy jeans, scuffed black boots, and a loose black shirt made it anyone's guess as to the person's build, though Rogue guessed him to be male from what she could see. A porcelain-colored owl with bars of brown on her wings perched serenely on one of his hands, while the other stroked her with a belied gentleness.

"I'll handle it," Jean whispered, though Rogue caught a note of hesitation. She and Kurt stepped back slightly to indicate they understood, and the goth's heart skipped slightly as the telepath stepped boldly into the clearing and approached the mutant, stopping a few yards away.

"Hello," she began in her kindest, most understanding voice.

The stranger didn't answer.

The owl turned slightly, watching her with unsettlingly knowing eyes.

Rogue guessed that Jean had decided on the direct approach.

"I know you may a bit confused and afraid. I was too, when my powers began to manifest."

The stranger's shoulders tensed slightly.

"We can help you. You don't have to run away."

Silence.

"Everyone needs help sometimes, but you can't be afraid of asking. Or trusting."

A movement from the stranger made Rogue squint to try and see it better.

Something was crawling down his leg.

Something long and sinuous, scaled and predatory.

The serpent hissed upon finally reaching the ground and weaving towards Jean. The redhead stepped back, unsure.

"Th-that's a beautiful snake," Jean began, attempting to continue to talk to the stranger.

The said snake stopped its progress and reared upwards in the stance usually taken by serpents about to strike, it's entirety of three-foot length apparently ready for an attack. Ivory fangs shimmered wetly. It hissed.

"We wish only to help you."

Rogue whirled around to see Professor Xavier in his wheelchair moving forwards to stand beside Jean. He seemed unconcerned by the viper-thing.

"We are mutants. Every one of us has gone through exactly what you are now; we can help you learn control and how to manage your powers, whatever they may be."

The snowy owl suddenly screeched and spread her wings, flying upwards towards the open night sky. The stranger's murmuring grew above a whisper, enabling the rest to hear.

"No one can help me."

Rogue expected the voice to be hysterical, or enraged, or fearful, or desperate.

But the tenor voice was as calm as though they had gathered here to discuss nothing more than the weather possibilities of the next day.

"Learn to overcome whatever fear you may have; please, allow us to help you," Xavier tried again.

"What should we do?" Rogue whispered to Kurt. The elf seemed oddly pensive, and it took him a moment to answer.

"I think we should leave him be," he whispered back, uncharacteristically serious. "Someone like him will ask for our help only if he truly needs it, and not before. Pressuring him may only have serious results."

She stared at the stranger in her adopted brother's skin.

"Er..."

"Please, let us help you," Jean implored.

The stranger remained silent, staring across the water. He had yet to turn and look at the X-Men. Instead, moments of silence stretched on for a brief eternity.

"Stay out of my mind."

The short statement was obviously directed at the professor, and the calm had dissolved into a coldness Rogue had never before heard. The stranger turned around, for the first time revealing what he truly looked like.

His skin was pale, ever so pale, unmarred except for the thin scar that traced across his right cheekbone, and another that danced brutally across the expanse of his slender throat and down beneath the collar of the shirt. His face was narrow and had high cheekbones, making him appear almost gaunt; but it was his eyes that sent the shiver down her spine. They were so lost, so haunted and distant in their intensity they seemed to gaze into one's soul, picking apart every memory and each emotion, pulling apart your essence to scrutinize the most intimate of moments and feelings. They were of the jaded kind, where the inner flame of the soul that lived behind them had been scattered to the winds. The full, blood red lips were the only sign of emotion; they had tightened in anger, as those intense, frightening eyes gazed at Professor Xavier as they delivered their verbal warning at the psychic probing Rogue was positive the professor had tried to do.

Rogue felt a surge of protectiveness towards Xavier, the only father figure she had ever known, and for an inexplicable second she felt that this newcomer was dangerous, and lethally so. Impulsively, she stepped out from the cover of the trees. She was followed by Spike, Kitty, Logan, Scott, and finally Kurt, the six of them standing a short ways behind Jean and Xavier.

The snake, momentarily forgotten by the others, slithered back towards the stranger who bent to allow it to twist itself around his arm in a macabre imitation of jewelry.

"Do you think you have anywhere else to go?" Rogue snapped, ignoring the shocked gasps and glares sent to her from the rest of her comrades. "Do you think that normal people would accept you as who you are? They're afraid of mutants!" She didn't know why she felt so hostile towards this new mutant, but her instinct kept telling her either hightail it as fast as possible out of there, or snarl and bite, the latter of which she sensed may be the wrong course of action.

The not-quite-a-boy stared at her, and she saw a frighteningly inhuman blank look taking over the former shadows. It was as though he were a statue carved from white marble, with dulled emeralds placed in the eye sockets and ruby for the mouth.

Kurt loped forward, standing straight when he stood just in front of him. Rogue was distantly surprised that he wasn't wearing his image inducer.

"Kurt Vaugner. Nightcrawler," he murmured. The stranger looked at him searchingly for a long stretch, then answered in his soft, weary voice.

"Harry Potter."

XxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxX

Blood.

The sharp scent pierced his senses brutally.

It seemed he could always smell blood. Blood he had spilled; blood he was spilling; blood that he would spill inevitably in the future.

The ground was soaked in blood.

So were his clothes. It'll never come out, he mused. Good thing they're black.

The entire place was drenched in crimson.

Still forms slumped over every available surface. Silence ruled where once it had been noisy, chaotic, an absence that pounded at the skull to make itself heard, as absolute as its complete opposite. Death was not a silent killer, though that is what was left in its wake. No, death was represented by many sounds; a harsh, wracking cough, a scream of sheer agony, the cries of one left behind and wanting, a rattle as the last breath slipped out between two cracked, parched lips, fanning over the thick liquid red that dripped slowly to the flayed ribs of an unforgiving earth. Death was a murderer that could not be punished, a killer that stole life indiscriminately from all races and genders, young and old, wealthy or left on the streets.

He despised Death, yet would welcome it when it came.

The once proud structure stood, forsaken and forgotten, whole corridors demolished and staircases destroyed, stones crumbling to dust and walls groaning as they began to give in to the inevitable. Tapestries shredded, portraits slashed, the life and laughter that was once embodied within raped, gutted, and left to wither and die.

Faces, so many faces...why were they there, why didn't they run... faces of them all, all he'd ever known, ever loved, ever cherished...he knew them all. He knew each and every one, their name and birthday, or perhaps their favorite food, maybe their most difficult class, or the sound of their voice as they laughed at a shared joke, or maybe something else just as personal...

It was too much. The power, it was too much. It pounded relentlessly in his skull, screaming with the other voices, crackled and sparked along his skin. It surged through his veins, begging and demanding, afraid and courageous, silent yet roaring with the sound of a tempest at sea...

A soft shimmering, a flickering light...it was a blade, the blade gifted to him an eternity ago by the dead, that had been itself destroyed and then reincarnated...a blade that could slice, cut oh so deeply, bring a permanent darkness...he didn't want to see anymore, want to feel anymore...emotions could destroy you, be used against you...but he hadn't felt in so long, a long time...

...More blood...don't be upset, please...oh no, too much, too much, it's rushing, streaming, pouring...bleeding...it hurts, it hurts so much, it rages, it's not happy...help me, please, help me, save me, don't let me fall...Siri, Ron...Mum, Dad, I'll never see you...I'll never see anyone again, I'm too dark, too angry, too soaked...now I know what a fallen angel feels, my wings are shattered, broken, I'll never fly...but I'm not sad...

...So why do my tears fall?

Kurt's last name will be spelled Vaugner rather than Wagner.

AN: So… What do you think? I hope that you noticed some of the things that I changed. CoughSpellingCough Though I really didn't change anything here story line wise… But that will change in chapter 3 or so. Catch you on the flip side!

R&R Please!