I don't own Harry Potter

Thanks for all the reviews, favs and followers! Here is the second chapter...

Chapter 2

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Harry drifted in and out of consciousness for several hours. Each time he woke up, he would try to get up from the cold and hard surface he was lying on, but then the pain would increase and his hands would slip away. Briefly, he wondered what the wet, slimy substance he seemed to be lying on was. At some point, Harry started to shiver as the fluid had drenched his clothes. He tried to call for help, as surely someone would hear him, but no one came.

It was an odd state of mind Harry was in.

Some times, he remembered the Mirror that was the reason why he wasn't in his bed in his cosy dormitory in the Gryffindor tower. And the flat and sharp pieces that were all over the place led him to the conclusion that something must have destroyed the Mirror, and likely hurt him, too, in the process. What he didn't get his mind around was what force could have possible smashed such a huge and magnificent Mirror to pieces.

Then, however, Harry was suddenly back in his cupboard, the darkness closing him in and making it difficult to breathe. Though this might also be due to the pain in his entire body. Desperately, he tried to prevent any sound of distress from escaping his mouth. If Uncle Vernon heard him, the man would be furious. Harry didn't remember what he had done this time, but he was sure that it must have been something freakish. His Uncle wouldn't have trashed him the way he obviously had for any of his normal misdeeds.

And again and again, there was the blinding green light, accompanied by cold, high laughter. And his mum. Harry saw his mum, he tried to move, tried to reach out for her, but the harder he tried, the farther she seemed to be away. Why didn't she stay? Didn't she see that Harry needed her? She was his mum, she couldn't just leave him alone!

Harry saw her mouth moving, heard her soft voice speaking to him soothingly, though he couldn't make out the actual words. And the green light was surrounding her, she practically glowed, she looked so beautiful but her expression was terrified -

"HARRY!"

A loud voice woke Harry up. He groaned when he noticed that the pain was still there. Hopefully, it wasn't bad enough to prevent him from cooking breakfast. The fact that Aunt Petunia was screaming for him to get up was a clear indication that he was allowed to leave his cupboard, despite whatever had happened yesterday.

"Yes, 'nt Petunia, 'm up," Harry croaked.

"Harry, child, what happened?"

This time, Harry noticed that this wasn't his Aunt's voice, nor any female voice at all. But it wasn't his Uncle either, so who - He gave a startled cry (which sounded more like a whimper, as for some reason he was quite hoarse) when suddenly, two strong arms lifted him up. He tried to fight whoever had taken him, but the pain that shot through his head and arms quickly thwarted his efforts.

"Ssh, it's all right, child, don't move or you'll hurt you further. Madame Pomfrey will fix you up again." the voice, that obviously belonged to the arms that were carrying Harry, said.

Madame Pomfrey. That name was ringing a bell...Hogwarts! How could he have forgotten something like this? He wasn't with the Dursley's any more but in a magical school. Though to be honest, it wasn't such a rare occurrence for Harry to wake up and taking a few moments until he remembered that he had left his relatives several months ago.

But if he wasn't with his relatives any longer, why was he hurting? Not even Snape would beat him hard enough to make Harry feel like he had done the morning after he had freed the Boa Constrictor, wouldn't he?

Albus Dumbledore had just settled down for breakfast when the youngest Weasley came careering into the Great Hall. Now, this was unusual. Normally, the boy (like all Weasleys except for Percy, really) was one of the last to appear for breakfast.

Rather than sitting down at the Gryffindor table, however, Ron ran straight to the staff table. His eyes scanned the row of teachers that were already there and his expression fell when he realized that his head of house had yet to arrive. For a few moments, the boy stood there indecisively. Finally, however, he seemed to come to the conclusion that whatever was bothering him was too urgent to wait for Professor McGonagall to make an appearance and he approached the centre of the table where the headmaster had just added four sugar cubes into his cup of tea.

"Uhm, Professor Dumbledore, Sir?" Ron mumbled uncertainly.

"Yes, Ronald? What can I do for you this fine morning?" the headmaster inquired pleasantly.

"Uhm, I don't mean to bother you, but Harry... ehm, he wasn't in our dorm this morning, and his bed didn't look as if he had slept in it at all. I asked my brothers, but they haven't seen him either..." he trailed off.

"Have you thought about the possibility that he left the dorm early, perhaps in order to visit Hagrid or to fly for a bit?"

"Well, yeah, but I have already checked and he wasn't on the pitch and Hagrid was still sleeping. And well," Ron shifted uncomfortably and cast a quick glance at the other teachers who were already present. "His invisibility cloak is missing, Sir," he whispered.

This had Dumbledore frowning. The thought that Harry might use the cloak to leave the dorm after curfew hadn't occurred to him when he had decided that Christmas was a good opportunity to return the invisibility cloak to its rightful owner. If this had been James Potter, it would have been a different matter, but Harry? He refused to believe that the child was anything like his father (except for his hair, of course), no matter what Severus kept telling him.
No, surely Harry was much more like Lily, and Lily Evans wouldn't have broken the rules like this. Except for a very good reason, of course...

But even if Harry had taken a stroll through the castle, surely he would have had the sense to return to Gryffindor tower before dawn? What was the reason for sneaking around under the cloak if he was perfectly entitled to roam the corridors after curfew had ended at 6 o'clock?

"Very well, Ronald, thank you for bringing the matter to my attention so quickly. I don't think you need to worry, though, but if Harry hasn't turned up by lunch I will send a few people looking for him. The castle can be quite overwhelming for someone who has only spend a few months living here. But I think we should grant your friend the opportunity to find his way back on his own, it would be a shame to have to assign him a detention only because he has gotten lost while exploring Hogwarts at an unusual time of the day." Dumbledore winked at the anxious looking boy in front of him.

Ron really didn't want to tell. But what else could he do if the headmaster didn't grasp the urgency of the situation? Ron wasn't stupid – he had noticed that Harry hadn't slept much ever since they had had that stupid row because of the stupid mirror, that Harry had left their dormitory every single night. He had noticed that each day, Harry was looking more and more exhausted and just plainly sad.

A few times, he had been about to tell Harry that he should stop going to the mirror as it clearly wasn't good for him, but then he had remembered that he and Harry weren't on speaking terms any more and he just couldn't bring himself to apologize for his outburst the other night. Rationally, Ron knew that it had been wrong to shout at Harry like this and he even admitted (if only to himself) that family might be more important than being Quiddich-captain, but still... Harry had hurt him, too, by implying that Ron's wishes weren't important! So why should he, Ron, be the one who made the first move towards reconciliation? It wasn't fair!

Now, however, it seemed that Harry was in trouble. And he, Ron, was the only one who knew were the other boy had likely gone. If he had only paid more attention to where Harry was leading him when he had shown him the mirror! But even though he had spent half an hour searching for the room, almost getting lost himself twice, Ron hadn't been able to track down the abandoned classroom.

"Uhm Professor Dumbledore, I think I might perhaps know where Harry could have gone..." Ron murmured uncertainly and the headmaster had to strain his ears in order to understand the boy's words.

"You do, my boy?" Dumbledore asked surprised, "then why don't you go and retrieve your friend? I'm sure Harry would appreciate it if it was you who interrupt whatever adventure he has stumbled into rather than a teacher." he twinkled at the red-headed boy, though the troubled expression of said child worried him slightly.

"I tried to, I really tried, and I didn't mean to get Harry in trouble, Sir, but the thing is – well, I might have forgotten in which room exactly that weird mirror was." Ron confessed, feeling mortified.

"What mirror, child?" the headmaster, now somewhat alarmed, inquired.

"Well, ehm, it was huge and had a showy, flashy frame. Harry found it in an old and dusty classroom when he ran away from Filch after searching the restri- I mean," Ron hurriedly amended, "he stumbled across it while exploring the castle. It was an accident, honestly!"

By now, Dumbledore had risen from his seat. He raised a hand to stop Ron's stuttering. "I think I know where Harry is, Ronald. I will fetch him and see whether he his all right. That mirror..." he trailed off. He knew all too well what the Mirror of Erised could do to someone like Harry – someone who had lost loved ones. That was the reason he had refused to tell his potion master what the ultimate protection of the stone would be, even though the young man had been quite adamant about knowing whether there was any real, infallible safeguard that would prevent Voldemort from getting the stone.

Ron looked at his headmaster in confusion. Until a few moments ago, the man had seemed completely unconcerned about whatever fate might have befallen Harry and now his expression suggested that finding the strange mirror had been a really bad thing.

Then, however, Ron shrugged. As long as Professor Dumbledore made sure that Harry came back so that Ron could stop worrying about his maybe-ex-best-friend and go back to being sulky about the other boy's lack of empathy for Ron's sore points, he didn't care.

He was about to follow the headmaster out of the Great Hall when the man stopped and turned around. "I will make sure your friend is all right and returns safely, Ronald. There is no need for you to accompany me, please just have breakfast."

For a few moments, Ron looked between the still rather empty Gryffindor-table and the headmaster indecisively. Then, however, his belly gave a loud rumbling and the decision was made. He might even get a sweet roll now that he was this early! And if Dumbledore himself took care of Harry, there really was no need to worry, was there?

It took only five or so minutes for Dumbledore to reach the classroom where he had deposited the mirror until he could find the time to transfer it into the dungeons where the Philosopher's Stone was hidden away. These few minutes were enough for his concerns to increase enormously, though.

He could clearly remembered how the Mirror of Erised had affected him the first time he had come across the artefact. Seeing his sister, seeing Ariana for the first time in more than half a century and then realizing that it was only a mirror image, that she wasn't real and that she would never return had probably been the second-worst day of his life.

And now, it seemed, Harry, a boy who had lost both of his parents when he had only been a year old had found the mirror.

Preparing to see the images of Lily and James Potter smiling at their only child from the inside of a cold piece of glass, the headmaster rounded the last corner.

The door to the unused classroom stood open.

Dumbledore gasped. "HARRY!"

Splinters of broken glass were scattered across the room. The frame of the ancient device lay on the ground. And only inches away from it, the motionless form of a small child was sprawled on the cold stone-floor. A puddle of red had formed next Harry's head.

For a heart-stopping moment, Dumbledore believed that Harry was dead. Then, however, a slight shiver ran through the boy's body and he mumbled something unintelligible. Harry seemed to try to get up from the ground but his hands slid away on his own blood.

The headmaster might be in shock but he hadn't survived numerous battles with various dark wizards by panicking once a situation seemed to get out of hand.

A grim expression on his face, Dumbledore banished the shards of the mirror into a far corner. Then, he scooped Harry up into his arms. The boy whimpered at suddenly being lifted from the ground, but the blood-loss together with several hours lying on the cold floor with only a flimsy pyjama and a shredded robe to protect him from the frost of the Scottish winter had severely marred his ability to fight against the firm but gentle grip of an adult.

Mumbling words that would hopefully soothe the distressed child, the old wizard made his way to the hospital wing.