Author's note: Characters, ideas, and the Harry Potter series do not belong to me, but to the brilliant J.K. Rowling.

Chapter one—Through the Mirror

It was a usual summer at number four Privet Drive; warm, musky, and depressing. All three members of the Dursley family had completely ignored Harry for weeks, leaving him to sulk in him own misery. Harry, however, unlike last year, was being told what was happening. Members of the Order of the Phoenix had remainedconstant contacted with Harry through owls.Hedwigwas always out delivering and recieving messages from Hermione and Ron, that shewould fly and hunt for hours, despite Harry's disgrunted comments when she returned. Hebelieved that she had gone bloody mad.

And the Daily Prophet was…well…telling the people what they wanted to hear. That everything in the Ministry's power was being done to find He-who-must-not-be-named. Harry, snorting every time he saw this was written, stopped abruptly in the middle, remembering Sirius's face before he went through the veil. How the Daily Prophet and Ministry searched relentlessly for his godfather, confining him to the gloom of the Black house. Harry grinded his teeth in anger.

But the only one who is responsible is Bellatrix Lestrange. He argued with himself, each time promising to himself that she would pay. The he would make her pay. Hedwig let out a low hoot as she soared through the window, holding a field mouse in her beak.

"Thanks," Harry said sarcastically, sitting on his bed. Hedwig's amber eyes narrowed on him then focused on his half-unpacked truck. Even though he had arrived at the Dursley's four weeks ago, he hadn't had the energy to unpack. Without so much as a warning she sprung down on it, attacking his socks.

"ARG!" shouted Harry, "What are you doing?" he was at his feet, attempting to catch the owl. He howled once more in pain and withdrew his hand; the wallet Hagrid had given him last Christmas clamped firmly on his hand. With his free hand, Harry pried its teeth from his flesh and threw it at the opposite wall. It hit with a yelp, and fell silent. Harry grabbed Hedwig and returned her to her cage, tenderly rubbing his right hand.

Something reflecting light caught his eye, and Harry turned slowly to his trunk. The mirror his godfather had given him had surfaced in the struggle, now casting the light of the moon onto Harry's face. Harry walked briskly over to his and knelt down as he picked it up. For a moment, he gazed at it and traced the outline on the mirror with his finger, missing Sirius.

A brief but significant yawn escaped his lips, and Harry stumbled over to his bed. He tipped the mirror carefully onto his bedside table, changed and layed his glasses and wand next to it. After tossing and turning for an approximate half hour, Harry dozed off to sleep.

Bright red, catlike eyes stretched as far as his vision would allow. He couldn't get away from them. He ran. That was all he could do. Just keep running! A domineering voice yelled desperately. He recognized it as Sirius. "Sirius?" called Harry, stopping. I told you to run. RUN. Harry didn't listen; he was trying to pinpoint his godfather. BANG.

Harry awoke with a start. Sweat was trickling down his back, and he suddenly felt extremely urked. What had made that noise? Why hadn't he listened to Sirius? Harry, stopping being stu-… but his thought was cut short. Something was wrong. A thin stream of silver light interrupted the night. But I wasn't using my wand…unless…Harry grappled for his glasses, and upon applying them to his eyes realized that the light was not coming from his wand, but from the mirror…

Harry sprung to his feet and lashed out his hand to grap his wand. The silver light was thinning.

"Why hasn't this happened before?" Harry muttered out loud. He took a few tender steps towards the glow and looked straight down into it. He gasped. His face was not staring back up at him, but a storm of whirling cloud and lightning engulfed the black-rimmed mirror. The clouds were clearing however. Harry looked on in curiosity. Wondering, hoping. He could make out his face through the clouds. He squinted his eyes, trying to make out the figure. Sirius's face came into full view. He smiled, and beckoned Harry with his finger. Harry reached out to Sirius, but his face disappeared.

At the moment, Harry felt his legs being jerked off the ground, stumbling head first into the mirror. It was like traveling through a portkey, he felt dizzy and lightheaded. The pain did not recede, as a portkey would have eventually. Unable to handle the spinning lights and colors, Harry uttered a moan and fell unconscious.