Chapter 2 - Magic Mirrors


Two weeks later, Harry sighed, staring into the silent mirror. The mirrors in the bathrooms were the only ones in the school that did not speak, and Harry was grateful. Whenever he looked into the magical mirrors, they all shrieked that he was too thin, too pale, too tired and too ill. Harry now avoided all such mirrors at any cost, because he didn't want to eat, sleep, take medicine or get a suntan just to satisfy them.


The other boys ignored him as he stared morbidly at his reflection. His messy dark hair, that was so convenient in hiding his scar, made his face seem even paler than it was, and yet his eyes didn't shine like they used to against the ebony of his hair. His lips weren't nearly as coloured as before, and the hollows of his cheeks were very deep. The only puffiness on his face at all, he noted, were the huge purple bags under his eyes, testifying to his lack of sleep.


The Ministry had sent Harry a warning about using magic outside school, but he reasoned he had a good enough excuse: the train would have left without him, even though he had tried his very best to be on time. Whenever Harry thought of this event, he felt a funny jolt in his stomach. The jolt came more and more often, whenever he thought of something he did wrong, and he always felt inexplicably depressed after experiencing it. Originally a little voice in his head would reason with the jolt of guilt, giving excuses for accidents Harry had caused. But the little voice had grown weaker over the summer, and he could barely hear it anymore.


Ron's cubicle flushed, and the lock was drawn back. Harry ignored it, leaning nearer to the mirror to inspect his features. As he leaned closer, images began to flicker on the glass surface. He squinted, making out blurred bodies that moved as if in a dual, and flashes of green light that seemed oddly familiar. Harry leaned still closer to the mirror, so that his nose was nearly touching it.


Out of nowhere a white round face with blood red eyes loomed out at him, and Harry yelped in shock, stumbling backwards and falling on his behind. The other boys laughed at him, shaking their heads in amusement. Harry just sat there on the cold floor, shaking and staring at the innocent-looking mirror, his face devoid of any colour.


Harry! Harry! Ron said, yanking Harry's arm to get his attention. Harry snapped his wide eyes onto Ron, and then back to the mirror. Sighing harshly, Ron dragged Harry to his feet. Harry dared a glance at the mirror, but the only thing that looked back at him was the thin teenager with round glass that was himself. Taking deep, calming breaths, Harry stood stoically by Ron while he washed his hands, and then hurried him out.


There you two are! I've been waiting! Hermione scolded, coming up to them from the girl's bathroom. Ron sighed, glaring at Harry.


Mr. I-Have-An-Evil-Wizard-After-Me-So-I-Must-Act-Weird here spooked at the mirror. Harry, I know you aren't the most gorgeous guy in school but your reflection isn't that bad, Ron said with a grin. Harry forced a painful smile onto his face, which convinced Ron but not Hermione.


Harry, are you okay? she asked, taking in his shaking body and clammy-looking skin. Harry nodded jerkily.


I'll be fine, he murmured, I'll be fine.


*


The apparition had scared him so much it took all of dinner before Harry finally stopped shaking visibly. Ron, Dean and Seamus had great fun laughing at Harry about it, but Hermione, and strangely enough Neville, told them to shut up, and kept glancing worriedly at Harry while he picked at his dinner silently. Harry went up to bed early while everyone was in the common room discussing Quidditch or homework.


Upstairs, as Harry passed it, the mirror clucked disapprovingly but before it could berate him he efficiently cast a Silencing Charm on it, making a mental note to break the charm in the morning. He climbed into his four-poster bed and sank into the soft mattress, praying for a calm, quiet night.


His prayers were ignored, because, as always, his sleep was wracked with nightmare upon horrid nightmare, of his mother's sacrifice and Cedric's death, and then of new images that his mind conjured: of Sirius being kissed by the Dementors, of Death Eaters torturing Ron, of Hermione falling lifeless at his feet, hit by Avada Kedavra, and all the while Voldemort's evil cackle rang in his head.


Harry woke after every nightmare, but his exhaustion was so deep that he fell asleep again almost immediately. He did not see four pairs of worried eyes focused on the drawn curtains of his bed. These eyes glanced at each other, and four simultaneous sighs could be heard.


When Harry woke from his worst nightmare of the night, he found it to be only four in the morning. Not wishing to sleep any longer, he dragged himself out of bed and was confronted by his roommates.


What are you doing up? he whispered. Though no one else could hear them, the silence in the castle was oppressive and Harry was loathe to break it.


You were having terrible nightmares, Neville said timidly. Seamus yawned suddenly.


he muttered at Ron's glare. Harry gulped.


Y-You can hear me? he asked. They nodded gravely. Feeling a ridiculous amount of guilt at keeping his roommates awake, especially when they had Potions first thing in the morning, Harry cast a Muffling Charm on his bed. You won't hear me anymore, he told his friends reassuringly as he headed to the door. Just as he passed the mirror he remembered his mental note, and broke the charm on it. It huffed indignantly but said nothing to him as he passed, and made his way silently to the common room, leaving four worried people behind him.


*