Reflection: Chapter 6

Not Beta-Read

Future - 1995

Harry had an attack on his mind again. New memories played out in front of his mind's eye. They flashed in and out of excistance too fast for him to disconcert and just as quickly as they came, they were gone, burried somewhere deep in his concience, leaving only one important thought: he had to go to the mirror!

He just knew that Voldemort was near the mirror. Near the very breakable mirror that was his only link with his diseased dad. He didn't know how he knew it, nor did he really understand. But it didn't matter. He had to get to the mirror. Now!

How was it even possible? Voldemort was supposed to be dead, right? James and his friends killed him when Harry was still a baby! He'd heard the tales of Voldemort's demise; nothing had been left of him but a heap of smoldering ashes.

He swiped a hand over his forehead to get the long locks of hair out of his face and noticed surprised and slightly happy that he had his scar back again.

As soon as he noticed it, the blemish started to broadcast it's presence persistently. The pain increased with every step he took in the direction of the room, and when he finally reached the door, the pain was nearly unbearable and making his concentration waver.

Oddly enough, the nagging pain disappeared as soon as his hand touched the cold knob of the door. Caught in surprise, he simply stood there for a long moment, but then he took a deep steadying breath and turned the knob.

The door didn't budge.

He frowned and tried an 'Alohomora', which didn't work and neither did any other stronger spells. He was finally so desperate and annoyed that he took a few steps away, casting a permeable shielding charm around himself and proceeded to blast the door in.

After only a few steps into the room, he stumbled against a form lying on the floor. It was the lifeless body of a man and the purple turban gave a good indication about who it once could have been. Harry's eyes shot up as a short twinge of pain went through his head and then he caught sight of him.

In front of the body-length mirror stood Voldemort. He was tall and thin as a skeleton, but with a full head of black hair and a maniacally smirk on his face. His robes hung elegantly over his frame and seemed to shine darkly with every small move he made. His red eyes looks appraisingly at Harry.

"Hello Harry Potter..."

Past 1980

"What kind of spells did you use?" Poppy Pomfrey asked as she cleaned the baby's head. The scar was already starting to close and it seemed that the baby had lost very little blood. It was now sucking on one of his small fingers and seemed quite happy and comfortable where he was in Lily's arms.

"Lightening based, I think," Sirius muttered as he glanced at Remus who nodded in confirmation.

"You wouldn't say," Poppy said with a small smile. "Little Harry's body worked as a lightening rod. How fortunate."

'Fortunate?' mouthed Sirius to Remus, who shrugged.

She quickly checked on Albus Dumbledore's status again and made sure that the Marauders kept an eye on him. He was in a critical condition and if things worsened she would have to react immidiately, or he'd probably wouldn't survive the night.

Later that night, James found himself alone beside Dumbledore's bed. He held the old man's hand and marvled at how fragile the Headmaster's hand seemed in his own. It was odd to see him in this light, it always had seemed as if nothing could touch the old man, yet tonight...

"I'm sorry, were weren't in time," he apologized. "Lily's okay, probably thanks to you. Harry too, though he's going to have a large scar on his forehead. Perhaps he'll be lucky and the girls will like it, think it's rogishly handsome or something." he sighed.

"I didn't have the time to ask my son from the future. I wonder how he is, did we change the future again, you think? Will he be okay?"

He was startled out of his loud musing when Dumbledore started to talk and he felt a soft squeeze in his hand. "Don't worry too much James." The old man said, his blue eyes didn't hold the old twinkle, but did have more life in them then any other man in his position would have. Hell, another man would have been dead right now.

"I shall wait with dying for now." Dumbledore man said with a small smile and James chuckled softly. He stayed by the man's side for a bit longer, but then he let go of his hand. "I need to to see Harry," he finally said.

Dumbledore immediately knew which version James meant and grabbed his wrist to keep him from leaving. "Perhaps it will be better if you didn't go to that mirror again, James," he forewarned, but James shook his head.

"We need to tell Harry that Voldemort is dead."

"Don't you think he already knows that? By now, he is living in the future with you and Lily by his side; I'm certain."

"Well, I'm not!" James argued. "Just one last time, just to make sure he is okay."

"No James. I am going to destroy that mirror. It has caused too much trouble already."

"Then please, let me be there when you do it!"

Dumbledore sighed and yielded. "Alright."

James didn't know how the man did it, but only an hour later, he and Dumbledore were in the room again. It was a mystery how Dumbledore could have made madam Pomfrey release him from the hospital wing in his state, but he'd done it. He even only had needed James' arm for support while walking there.

But in the room, when James had practically run to the mirror, he was in for a nasty surprise. James stared shocked at the appalling skeleton-like figure on the other side of the mirror.

"What the hell is that?" he asked frightened, not recognizing the deformed creature.

Dumbledore came to stand beside him and grim look appeared on his face as he studied the man at the other side. The man turned slightly and then grinned mockingly at them, flashing them sharp, canine teeth and showing bright-red, slanted eyes.

"... and also a pleasure to see you again Albus and is that James Potter?" he gave a small mocking nod towards them and Dumbledore stared resentful back at the creature.

"Tom Marvolo Riddle," Dumbledore spoke calmly back.

"Voldemort?" James shouted as he finally understood who the creature was, and he looked frantically back and forth between the creature in the mirror and Albus beside him.

"We killed him! He is dead! He must be dead!?" James stated slightly hysterical.

Voldemort laughed amused and reached out to the mirror. James and Dumbledore took startled a step back as the mirror started to shift. Apparently Voldemort in the future was turning it slightly and the mirror in the past shifted along.

The image now showed Harry standing frozen in shock behind an unmoving form on the ground.

"Harry! Oh Merlin, he has my son?!"

Voldemort stepped into the picture again. "I've lived all these years along with that man there, but now I truly am back again," he glanced over at Harry and smirked. "And I'll get my revenge."

James couldn't take it anymore and lunged at the mirror, his whole body slammed against the cold surface. "Stay away from Harry!" he yelled enraged. "Do you hear me?! Stay away from my son you hideous monster!"

Voldemort merely grinned and raised his wand right at the moment that the mirror couldn't hold James' weight anymore and toppled over. It fell to the ground with James on top of it and the mirror scattered into thousands of pieces.

One large shard imbedded itself into James' neck, but James sat back and stared horrified around at the shards around him, unaware of the blood which was now flowing freely down his throat.

"No…" he whispered aghast and reached out to the pieces of mirror. "NO!!!" he yelled louder and frantically tried to gather the pieces, not registering how they cut deep into his hands.

It took Dumbledore a long time to get the sobbing young man away from the useless remains of the mirror and into the hospital to let Pomfrey heal his hands. He had wanted the mirror to become un-usable, but not in this way. His heart went out to not only the distraught James, but also the poor Harry from the future who would surely not survive his encounter with Voldemort for a second time.

Future - 1995

The mirror scattered into thousands of little pieces, tumbling down to cover the ground as a shining blanket of shards. Harry tried to cover his eyes, to protect them from the blinding light reflecting a thousandfold in the shards, but the lights even penetrated his closed eyelids.

He wavered on his feet as his mind seemed to scatter in the same manner as the mirror had. His head was filled with a pounding pain and then it was all gone. Harry blinked and his eyesight started to adapt to his surroundings. As he tried to focus on the man standing where the mirror had stood, he realized that he was empty of thoughts.

He couldn't remember a thing.

His mind was blank; he could not remember how he had gotten there, if asked he would not be able to tell you about his past. He didn't know his favorite food, color, his best friends. The only thing he did remember was that he had to stop and kill the creature in front of him.

Voldemort had been equally distracted by the scattering of the mirror while he himself hadn't even touched it. So when it had started to tople over, he had used a shielding charm, instead of the curse he had wanted to throw at Harry Potter.

It took him some moments to focus on the boy again and was startled to see a change in him. Green eyes were fixated on him with pure, unadultred hate and seemed to promise him a painfull death. Voldemort smirked. As if a young child could intimidate him.

They raised their wands at the same time and shot their first spell at each other.

They soon found out that in the small room it was difficult to fight each other fully. Both conjured obstacles that littered the room so they had things to hide behind and use in the fight. Soon they both had random things being thrown at their head.

Voldemort seemed to prefer sharp objects, like knives, spikes and daggers. While Harry transfigured most objects in a way they would bluntly fall on the other and try to use that distraction to hit the man with a curse. This went on for a while, with both sides getting more and more frustrated.

Harry was hiding behind a large slab of stone, remicient of a thombstone, when Voldemort transfigured it into an iron maiden. Harry only had seconds to get away from it, before it fell over; nearly trapping him inside and piercing his body with the numerous spikes inside it.

Then before he knew it, his wand flew out of his hand and he slammed with his back against the wall making the air violently leave his lungs. His back ached from the hard stone behind him and he realized he couldn't move a musle. He was litterally glued against the wall and he glanced quickly at the ground where his wand was. He looked back at Voldemort.

The man, if you still could call him that, had conjured sharp, bonelike spikes which were hovering in front of him and just waiting to be thrown at Harry, who glared angry back at him.

"Any last words, Harry Potter?"

"Yeah; go to-"

Harry didn't get the chance to finish his words as suddenly someone jumped through the scattered remains of the previously blown in door. The unknown man immidiately put a shielding charm around Harry and then threw an offensive curse at Voldemort.

Voldmort dodged the curse and send his spikes towards the newcomer, who conjured a wall in front of himself and made it long enough to cover them both from Voldemort. The man took off the hex that glued Harry onto the wall, while Voldemort tried to blast the wall away, and Harry immidiately snatched his wand from the ground.

He glanced at the man who had saved him and nearly dropped his wand again. "D-dad?" he stuttered shortly as he recognised him and a few stray memories came back to the surface. The man grinned at him.

"In the flesh, Junior!" the older man said.

They didn't have more time to exchange words as the wall disapeared and purple flashes shot at them. They both rolled to a different side, trying to make it more difficult for Voldemort as he now had two moving targets on different sides of the room. The man didn't seem to have a problem with it though as he kept the curses fly at the father and son.

Many times Harry found himself being protected by a shield of some sort from his father, as he himself was more into offense while his father did defense. But when Voldemort send a blasting curse at the stone wall above James' head, it was Harry who shielded his father from the rubble.

He received a cut, that nearly servered his left hand from his arm in trade, as Voldemort had used the distraction to his adventage. A quickly muttered healing charm made sure he wouldn't lose the appendage, but he would have to see the nurse for it to be healed correctly.

James caught Voldemort in a hex that made his head transform into that of a furred animal, probably in the hopes that it would make him unable to speak a spell, but Voldemort was able to manipulated it in time. The fur made way for scales and before he could do what he wished and transform in a giagantic basilisk, Harry threw a Sectumsempra at him.

It nearly took off Voldemort's snakehead, but he got out of it's way and had to let of of the transformation, making his head turn normal again. Well, normal for him. He hissed annoyed and at that moment Harry and James glanced at each other, and it was as if they had send each other a silent message.

They raised their wands at Voldemort, muttered the same spell and from their wands flew red and purple whirls that turned into a small vortex. The whirling, purple-and-red flamed vortex hovered in front of them for a long moment and started to absorb the spells that Voldemort threw at them.

Even spells aimed at other sides of the room were inevitably sucked into the vortex that kept growing larger and became nearly unmanagable. James as Harry had to use both their hands to keep their wands steady and still they could feel the power of the vortex pushing them slowly backwards to the wall.

Then Voldemort yelled in rage and it was as if that had been the sign they both had been waiting for. They took a heavy step forwards and pushed with all their might. The vortex shot through the air and slammed ruthlessly into Voldemort's stomach.

When it touched his body, it seemed to implode into itself, turning into a ball the size of a bludger that impaled Voldemort right through the guts. After that James and Harry had to summon a shield as the wall behind Voldemort exploded outwards.

When the dust cleared, they saw Voldemort still standing, though slightly slumped over. And not only did a hole go though his abdomen, it also went right though the wall behind him, showing the clear, blue sky outside of the castle.

Harry had to keep him self from gagging when he realized he was staring through Voldemort's stomach.

There wasn't even much blood, as the vortex seemed to have burned itself clearly through. Voldemort stumbled, but then rightened itself. He was still holding his wand and Harry tigtened his grip on his own wand. There was a bloody hole going through the creature's body, for Merlin's sake! Was there nothing that could kill him?

All around them, Voldemort's magic made the mirror shards fly up and hover in the air around them. Harry nad James immidiately stood back to back. The shards hung poised, their sharp points aimed at them and Harry almost gave up that moment.

But he was damned if he let that man take away his father again!

He gathered his last bit of strength and banished most of the shards straight towards Voldemort who had no time or power left to move away. The shards imbedded themselved deep into Voldemort's body. One of them went straight through his glowing left-eye and lodged itself in his brain.

Meanwhile James had conjured a shield around them that had deflected the few shards that Voldemort still had been able to send at them. He and Harry wached together how Voldemort screamed with insane agony and then fell backwards to lie crumbled in the opening of the outer wall.

He didn't move anymore.

Harry and James remained standing, their shoulders softly touching each other, with their wands held carelessly next to their side. Harry raised a hand to wipe the blood out of his eye, and from force of habit his fingers trailed over his forehead, over the cursed scar.

"Dad?"

James turned to face his son and his eyes traveled concerned over the freshly opened lightning-bolt scar marring Harry's forehead. "Yes Harry?"

"Don't leave me again... ever, please?"

"I won't! Your mother and I will always be here for you, always! Remember that."

Harry smiled weakly and then, in front of the worried eyes of his father, his exhausted body crumbled to the ground in a dead faint.

To Be Continued

Note from Jekyll: Only an Epilogue left.