Chapter One: In the Glass
Darkness. Pain. Passion. Pure evil, was the way I would describe him. All the hatred in the world, poured into one man, one creature.Yet, another side always seeped through. Gentle. Kind. Soft. Pure delight, was another of his many descriptions. It seems so long ago now, that I first met the man who had all the sadness in the world gathered within his soul. Every tear he shed a symbol, a figment of suffering, in his world that was the smallest fraction of our own.I stared across the room, the mirror clouded, dusty. A small crack ran from the top right hand corner in the glass, down the frame edge. I remember how that got there. That memory wiped the smile straight from my face. It was one I wished I could forget. But I've never forgotten, and I never will, the mysterious affair, the legend, the myth. That people heard, but never believed.
I believe, because I remember.
Slowly I reached up, brushing away some of the dust to look at my face.
I remember. Because I was there.
The dust lifted, sparks of gold burst from the mirror frame, a haunting melody ringing throughout the air. The mahogany polished to perfection, the sweet smell of wax as the candles were re lit. The whole house the way it was before, the way it was when there was no evil…
The way it was when there was no curse…
The way it was before the mystery…
Twelve years ago.
It was winter once again, in the cold streets of the house invisible to all. A seventeen year old Harry, sat precariously on the edge of the table, looking at the old photos, the old memories of the god father that once was.
The god father, that used to hug him when he was feeling low, the god father who would sit and help him do his homework, even though it never got done, together they always managed to created a diversion. Those were the good times, the good times before he left.
Remus always used to say, 'he's not gone, he's just slipped away into the next room' yet whenever Harry used open the door, the room was always empty.
His smile fading at the memories come to past, he placed the photo book Hagrid had gave him first year back under his pillow. Memories where nice. More accuartly they were nothing. Just pictures waiting to fade.
He arose from under the covers, lighting a candle in the darkness, as his hand reached out to the door handle in the shadows. The landing was quiet, and empty. Only a few things jotted here and there where Oliver left them.
Harry smiled fondly to himself. Oliver. That always made him feel better. Even if it were finding one of his old socks behind the sofa. He was the only good thing in Harry's life since Sirius had gone. Yet sometimes not even that was enough. It was at those times that he went to the attic.
Un locking the door, he began to clamber up the old stairs, trying his best not to make a noise, Oliver had never found out about his visits upstairs, and preferably Harry wanted to keep it that way.
Reaching the top he smiled, brushing away the cobwebs as he sat cross legged on the floor, in front of a towering object, casting shadows over his face.
"Time to see you again"
He whispered, and reached out, his hand closing around the velvet throw, pulling it away swiftly. The gold frame glistened, the glass un smudged, un touched. Only for a while did Harry see his own reflection in the mirror, until he saw that of his god father, and of his parents smiling back at him.
It was only shortly after Sirius' death that Harry discovered the Mirror of Erised, it was a joy to see it again, to know that he didn't have to cry anymore. That he could see his family anytime he wanted…
"Why am I never your desire? What have I done to your heart, Did you never know that I love you, and I cry when we're apart…"
Harry started, he'd jumped up at the first sound of the voice, the echo in the air. His green eyes were wide, the untameable hair thrown across his face.
"Who's there?! Who's voice is that!?"
He shouted, arising from his spot on the floor, the candle flickered out, surrounding him in darkness, and a deadly cold sending shivers down his spine.
"Sirius?"
"What are these tears if full of woe? Why my darling do you cry? I have hidden from you too long now, hidden from the worlds eye…"
He looked around, his hands reaching out for something, he didn't know what, just something. Part of him believed it was Sirius, his spirit, his ghost was there in the room even thought he knew it was impossible…
"Pitiful child I have found you, from the shadows in which I hide, look at yourself in the mirror, I am there inside…"
Harry let out a stifled scream as he look into the mirrors face, Sirius was standing there, his cloak swept behind him, his hair slicked back as Draco's always seemed to be, his dark eyes seeming to enchant, yet petrify the young Gryffindor.
"What is this!?"
He screamed, falling back, groping around his dressing gown for his wand. He knew the mirror only portrayed desire, and seeing Sirius was his desire certainly. But not like this, he wasn't cloudy and faded as he always looked, he looked real, alive, like he could just reach out to him. It must be a trick of the mind, he thought, some kind of bewitchment, some spell. He was thrilled to see him, but there was something different about him, something not right…
His eyes never left the mirror, why wouldn't this image fade away, stop taunting him with trickery, with belief, Sirius was dead, and he wasn't coming back…
"Harry?"
He screamed again and turned round, pushing the hand that had rested on his shoulder away, panting hurrendously.
"Whats the matter with you, why are you up here?"
Harry's eyes adjusted to the blurry vision before him, Oliver was standing above him, his face a portrayal of confusion and worry. No words could escape from Harry's mouth, he just threw his arms around his lover, burying his facw in the baggy tartan pyjamas, waiting for the nightmare that was once a dream to end…
"What was it what did you see?"
A single tear fell from Harry's eye…
"Nothing, I saw nothing…"
A/N: Hey its me again, im back with a new fic. I decided to write this new one when I realised my old ones were well, shit. They are the definition of bad writing.So im going to delete them all! Hoozah!Maybe apart from I Promise, because that's going somewhere, I just don't know where. I should really plan my stories before I write them…Anyways hope you enjoy the new fic. By the way, the little paragraph at the beginning is from Oliver Wood's point of view