He had always noticed it. A small presence in the back of his mind. Small, but not easily ignored. But with the Dark Lord's return, it has become more demanding, pushing at his sanity. He will not surrender to its whispers, its promises of fulfilled desires. But in the end, he may not want to fight anymore. After all, we all go a little mad sometimes. Except that when the Boy Who Lived does, the consequences are significantly huger.
**** Chapter 2 ****
"It is sometimes an appropriate response to reality to go insane."
Darkness.
It swirled around him, but instead of fear, he felt comforted. This place had a familiar feel to it.
Out of the corner of his eye, he glimpsed a flash, light reflecting off glass.
He gingerly walked towards it, his pace slow and cautious.
Then he reached it.
In front of him, stood a mirror.
It was tall, polished and elegant.
Simple, yet tasteful.
As he peered into, his reflection began to form.
It was not what he expected.
His reflection was the same height, same stature. His skin was white as paper, hair as dark as a blackboard. But what made him pause was his reflection's face. It was a curious sight, particularly the slitted red eyes. His reflection grinned, revealing a mouth full of pointed teeth.
"So, we finally meet, face to face. Here, in the fractured landscape that is your tortured mind."
"Why am I looking at you through a mirror? What happened to the door theory?"
"How the hell should I know? It's your mind. I'm not responsible for anything here. Your subconscious created this as a refuge, a place for your sanity to flee to, should you become too damaged."
"So, Uncle Vernon beating us to death was the cause of this."
"I imagine so. As for the 'door' idea, I imagine that once it opened, it never closed. I can only guess that the mirror originated from you brief obsession with the Mirror of Erised."
"I assume that this mirror is much more symbolic than that."
"You assume correctly. This mirror reflects your sanity, your mental stability. The fact that you see me, rather than your own reflection, is something to be concerned about."
Harry took a step back and looked peered at the polished glass. Even in the dark, he was able to see the numerous cracks that ran across the mirror's face.
"The cracks are the attacks on your mind. Any damage, be it physical, emotional or psychological, damages a person's sanity. Many of these cracks repair themselves over time, but some cannot ever be removed."
"So because of your presence as a part of Voldemort's soul, as well as my delightful childhood at the hands of the Dursleys, my mirror is cracked beyond repair."
"That is a fairly reasonable assumption to make. With that much strain on your mind, it's remarkable that the mirror didn't shatter entirely from a young age."
"But what about now? If anything, I feel even more weak and fragile. Wouldn't the mirror be even more likely to break?"
"I do not know. But you should know this. This mirror separates us. This mirror keeps me from taking control."
"Great. So my mental stability is the only thing keeping you at bay? That's reassuring."
"If it's any consolation, many other teenagers would have given up by now."
"I need to know this. I'm here now, and I don't know when I will regain consciousness. I need to know what my own mind is shielding me from. Tell me. What the hell are you?"
"I am you. With the flaws removed."
"So you keep saying. You were a part of Voldemort, yet you claim to be me. Explain."
The reflection appeared to sigh, his vivid red eyes, so unlike Harry's own, appeared almost sympathetic and weary.
"On the night that Lord Voldemort went to Godric's Hollow to kill you, and your mother cast herself between you, the curse rebounded. This you know, yes?"
Harry merely nodded and the reflection took a deep breath.
"As it did so, a part of Voldemort's soul latched itself onto the only living thing it could find. And that turned out to be you."
"Then surely you wouldn't an imitation of me. You would be Voldemort. You would have taken me over. Possessed me, or something."
"I imagine that was the original intent, but your mother's protection, along with your already powerful magical core, would have prevented possession."
"But how did you come to be? How did you come to be this copy of me, yet still retain Voldemort's memories, his knowledge, and his skill?"
"Your magic is something very unusual. From what I can only guess, your magic destroyed the Voldemort presence and absorbed the soul piece. Therefore obtaining a large amount of knowledge and power. From this, I was created."
"It still doesn't explain WHO you are."
"Most people in the wizarding world differentiate themselves between Light and Dark. You have the potential to be both. Your magic knows this, so it created me to provide a balance. I am Dark, you are Light."
"Yet we are the same."
"Yes. Now you understand. When I kept telling you that I was you, I was right."
"I don't believe you. You can't be me. You're Dark. You aren't even like me!"
"Really? You're going to argue that because I'm Dark, I'm evil, and the great Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, can't be evil? I expected this sort of prejudice from Weasley and Malfoy, but not from you."
"Shut up. You know nothing of me."
"Fool! I live in your head! I have seen all your memories, your secrets, your wishes. I should know who you are, because I am all your darkest wishes and emotions come to life."
"What?"
"You heard me. I am your anger, your rage, your hatred. I am your fear, your cruelty, your malice. I am your lust, your pride, your blackest aspirations. Without me, you would be a shell, an empty husk. A boy who lost everything at the hands of his relatives. Without me, you wouldn't have survived those years before Hogwarts. I saved you! You survived because of me!"
"No, it's not true."
"That whole crap with the Philosopher's Stone? That was me. Quirrel would have killed you. I revived your mother's protection! It was because of me that he burnt to death, not you!"
"No, it was my magic!"
"Who do you think can access such power? Me. Chamber of Secrets? I stabbed the Basilisk. I destroyed the diary."
"Stop it."
"Do you really think a thirteen year old boy could have driven off hundreds of Dementors? No, I gave you more magic."
"Stop it!"
"Triwizard Tournament? All me. You may have done the flying, but it was I who Summoned the Firebolt. I kept us alive in the Black Lake. I fought off all the enchantments, curses and traps in the godforsaken maze! You may think you did it by yourself, but you could not. I was there, every step of the way."
"ENOUGH!"
There was a loud crack as the mirror in front of him split gruesomely. Both Harry and the reflection were stunned into silence, Harry horrified, the reflection wary.
"You know it's all true. If it wasn't, the mirror wouldn't have been affected. You pretend that your just Harry, and most of your experiences were just luck, but you know there was something more."
"It's not true. I can't be evil."
"Whoever said that you were?"
"You did! You said that you were me and that you were Dark!"
"Being Dark isn't evil, you imbecile. That's Dumbledore talk. And I will have none of it."
"I will never be Dark."
"But you were Dark. You went Dark to save yourself from Voldemort that night in the graveyard. And that is nothing to be ashamed of."
"I don't want to hear this anymore. I want to wake up."
"Are you really that dim-witted? If you wake in up in the state that your body is in now, you'll die."
"I'd rather die than listen to you."
"Don't be so dramatic. I have a very calm and soothing voice."
"I hate you."
"No, you don't. You just don't want to admit that I'm right."
There was a long, uncomfortable silence, which involved Harry glaring into the mirror and the reflection looking broodingly back. Harry suddenly stiffened and the mirror cracked once again.
"Have you been posing as me? Do my friends even know who I am?'
"I have never posed as you Harry. You made friends on your own. However, I really think you should get some more though."
"But everything else was a lie. You did it all. I deluded myself to thinking I was special, that I was capable of doing something good. But it seems like I was just as worthless as the Dursleys said."
While Harry was speaking, the mirror suddenly began to shake violently. He didn't notice, but the reflection's eyes flashed with worry.
"Harry, just calm down for a second."
"They were right, I am worthless. A boy tricked into thinking he was something good. I should never have come to Hogwarts. Maybe things would be different."
The mirror was rattling in its frame by now; the existing cracks were splitting even further.
"Harry, listen to me."
"I should have died that night in Godric's Hollow."
"Harry, don't say it."
"I should have let Voldemort kill me."
"Please, don't say what you're thinking."
It was if the universe itself stopped. The mirror had stopped vibrating, but the reflection was looking at Harry with a mixture overwhelming fear and a wretched pity.
"I am a freak."
And the mirror shattered. It exploded outwards and Harry was thrown back by an invisible force, yelling in shock and pain. Climbing to his feet, he saw the shattered glass lying on the ground. He gently picked one up and flinched as it turned to sand in his hands. One at a time, he picked up each broken piece, watching helplessly as each faded in front of him. There was only one piece that didn't break and as Harry looked into it, he could see the red eyes of the reflection.
The eyes flashed suddenly and Harry dropped the glass piece as though burned. He stepped back, terrified, as the glass melted into a puddle of liquid. From the depths, Harry watched as a hand breached the surface and the body of his reflection began to emerge.
The reflection stood motionless, his head bowed. Harry treaded forwards cautiously, but at the sound, the reflection looked up and looked at him sorrowfully.
"You know what this means, don't you?"
Harry shook his head, his insides clenching in fear and anticipation.
"You broke your own sanity and allowed me through. You truly are extraordinary Harry Potter. Any lesser man, wizard or Muggle, would have died."
"What happens now then?"
"We take Voldemort and burn him to the ground. We will avenge your parents, Cedric and countless others that have fallen at his hand."
"But that's what was going to happen anyway, wasn't it?"
"No. This time, we do it our way. This time we will show him what it is like to lose everything that matters to him. We will let him know, that as his regime burns and his Death Eaters brought to ashes and his own miserable life ends, that Harry Potter is the one who is doing this to him."
"No more mercy."
The reflection grinned, pointed teeth gleaming.
"Harry, I think this is going to be the start of a beautiful partnership."
