I don't own Harry Potter.

AN: A reviewer told me that he/she was confused by a few things. For one, the dream scene that Harry had. I'm going to bring that in at the end. The diary... Lucius still has it, and won't use it until he needs to. Her father... It'll come up. And finally, why didn't Molly neglect her own kids? Well, she did, just not to the extend that she neglected Harry. She felt more strongly about her own children so she subconsciously fought harder.

Harry Potter and the Mirror, Darkly

Chapter Ten: All Hail the Conquering Empire

INV Enterprise, Main Bridge

Captain Cyrilla Kelvin shifted her uniform slightly as she sat on the hot leather cushion of her command chair. Oh how she hated the revealing uniforms with their bared midriffs and their short shorts. It was degrading to stand in front of her bridge officers (all male, of course) wearing such an atrocity. Nevertheless, it was the price she had to pay for serving in the Imperial Navy.

"Helm, report," Cyrilla barked out. The officer swirled around, saluting.

"Our ETA to intercept the British Fleet is," he twisted to check his console, "One hour and twenty seven minutes." At the Captain's expectant look, he mockingly added a 'sir'.

"Very well," Cyrilla nodded. "I'll be interrogating the prisoner. Commander Lovegood, you have the Bridge."

Captain Kelvin strode to the elevator, entering it soundlessly. "Brig," she intoned without emotion.

The captain entered a small, dark room and immediately the smell of decaying flesh hit her nostrils like a sledgehammer. A technician was regulating vital signs from some terminal, and a ragged looking man leaned against a glass booth with shrieks of pain reverberating inside.

Blood stained his dirty-brown locks of hair as he twisted and pulled large tufts from his head. From behind the glass, Captain Kelvin ordered the level to be increased. The man's eyes twirled in agony, and he screamed with renewed vigor.

"Fifty percent, sir," the technician announced. Cyrilla's head shook in disgust.

"Just tell us the command codes, Colonel," the captain pleaded with a cold look in her eyes. "I don't want to watch your body be dissolved by the hydrochloric acid, but I will if I have to."

"I'll never join you!" he screamed hoarsely, as the acid began to eat away at his esophagus.

"If you tell us the codes, there needn't be any loss of life," Cyrilla tried to reason with him.

Indecision wavered in his eyes, before the pain forced his hand. "I'll tell you the codes, just let me out!"

MUGGLE BRITAIN CONQUERED

by Marissa Colton

Late last night, the Terran Empire began a calculated military strike against the British Empire, engaging our Muggle's Navy outside the Isles of Sicily. According to reputable sources, the Terran Empire's Navy sent nine-hundred-forty-eight Devastator-class warships to fight our much smaller fleet of two-hundred-eleven. Their vessels, lead by the flagship 'INV Enterprise' , utterly decimated Her Majesty's fleet by overriding their computer control with stolen command codes.

Only one vessel escaped, for one reason only; they had reset their computer. (For those who don't know, a computer is a sort of artificial ghost built by muggles, which performs various actions such as plays games and controls their ships.) The captain of the vessel (the HMS Victory) reported that none of the other vessels had anyone left alive on board when the Victory escaped.

Four hours after that, the British Empire unconditionally surrendered.

The Ministry of Magic has issued recommendations to all witches and wizards living in Empire-controlled areas.

1- Do not, under any circumstances, reveal the existence of Magic to Imperial officials or sympathizers.

2- Avoid Imperial troops at all costs.

3- Avoid entering Muggle London unless absolutely necessary.

4- If the Empire discovers our existence, find shelter. Magically reinforce it if necessary. Protection shelters will be set up in every city.

Harry threw the paper down in disgust. "How could the Tutshill Tornados lose? And to the Cannons, no less!"

Hermione gaped. "Harry, the entire muggle world is under the rule of a tyrant, and the only thing you can think of is Quidditch?"

Harry nodded absently. "Hey Ron!" Ron looked at him quizzically from across the Great Hall. "You still like the Chudley Cannons, right?"

"Yeah!" Ron's face cleared of all confusion.

"The Cannons just won their first victory in twenty-five years!" Harry told him.

Ron stood shocked, then his face broke out into a grin. "HAH!" he screamed at the world. "I TOLD YOU SO!"

At that moment, Luna came in screaming with happiness. "YOU GOT IT!" she cried, holding a small gray rock with a pink bow attached. "How did you do it?"

Hermione stared in shock, much like Ron had mere moments earlier.

"I shrunk myself to the size of an electron and launched myself out of a particle accelerator. Before I collided with the surface, I cast a ridiculously overpowered cushioning charm at the moon and landed painlessly. Then I undid my shrinking charm, cast a bubble-head charm, picked up a rock, and Portkeyed back to the gates of Hogwarts."

Hermione's eyes widened before she began shoving her extremely sharp nails into Harry's sensitive arm. "What," she started, "were you thinking."

Harry leaned in and whispered. "I didn't actually do that. I just transfigured an ordinary rock."

Satisfied, she let go of his arm. Shaking his head, Harry whispered to Tom. "What an overreaction. I had to tell her I transfigured it."

In the Infirmary, Professor Dumbledore was interrogating the recently awakened Robert. He wasn't having very much luck.

"Are you sure that Mister Potter had nothing to do with your accident?" Dumbledore inquired for the fifth time.

Robert rolled his eyes. "Yes, I'm sure. I was playing with a muggle lighter my father gave me. It exploded."

Dumbledore wrestled with his conscience. He knew that he needed to know the truth. Robert could have been threatened by his brother, and is simply afraid for his life. Or his memory could have been tampered with. He needed to know.

"Legilimens," Dumbledore whispered. Immediately he was assaulted by intense hatred and arrogance. This boy truly believed that he was entitled to the world. True royalty, Dumbledore thought bitterly. Returning to his task, he began inspecting the memories of the so-called accident. After careful inspection, he reluctantly admitted that it was probably a real memory. But there was a small feeling of familiarity in this memory, one not easily explained by the fact that Dumbledore had heard the story before.

In a flash of horrified inspiration, Dumbledore put the pieces together. The memory had the distinctive feeling of the mind of Tom Riddle. The new boy in the school, who's genius was nearly exact to that of Riddle, had chosen a name which was a synonym of Riddle; Limerick. There were two boys who witnessed the death of Voldemort, one of whom exhibited an impressive amount of magical power and knowledge.

Harry Potter was being possessed by Tom Riddle.