A/N: First up I didn't like this chapter. It took ages to write, and it didn't convey the emotions or anything well, the words fought me every step of the way, which is why it may seem a little disjointed. >
I'm trying to bring all these different aspects I've mentioned in the previous chapters into this, but it doesn't seem to want to work for me.
Hope its not too disappointing (I really really don't like this chpater)
Warnings/Disclaimer: I don't own, so please don't sue,
Don't read if mention of death and rape bother you.
Continue...
HP
Harry grit his teeth as he turned a corner at a run, his shoulder slamming into the stone wall before he had time to catch his balance. The passage beneath his feet was shaking as he raced down the corridor lit eerily with pure green flames.
"Professor Snape?" His voice though deeper, coming from the older man's body, still held a hitch of fear in it. Harry had only ever lost control this badly in a safe environment when he had destroyed the headmasters office, after he believed Sirius to have fallen behind the veil, never to return. That room had numerous charms and wards to safe guard it against childish outbursts of magic, but down here…
The man didn't know what he did, didn't know the possibilities, the consequences.
He could almost feel the magic crackling in the air around him. He was close.
He just hoped the rest of the school wasn't being effected by this magic overdoes. He had felt it because the potions labs were so close to the maze of corridors which Snape had obviously disappeared into. He prayed silently to whatever god was listening that the magic hadn't reached the upper levels of the school were professors or students could be caught unaware. Trying to push his body faster he broke into a sprint.
"Professor?" Harry tried not to sound too panicked, but his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth and his ears pounded with his quickened heartbeat. What if he accidentally ran by the potions master? Merlin, if he didn't find the man in time…
A torch next to him burst simultaneously with a collapsing statue. Yelping Harry had only time to throw his hands up, scorching them before tripping over the stone rubble that had once stood proudly as a former headmaster. Scrambling, his hands stinging as he pulled himself up, his knees burning from where he had landed awkwardly on the broken stones, he tried to hurry on a little more cautiously.
Past this point the torches seemed to burn brighter, their luminous greens fed by the surrounding magic. Only the occasional statue had survived the magic that had flowed down the corridor and Harry found himself stumbling over the remains of poorly constructed statues, ducking into old rooms that had their doors hanging off hinges at awkward angles he continued his search.
He was definitely close.
And then he saw the painful reflection.
SS
Severus could feel the tears burning in the back of his eyes, the sobs caught in his throat. He knew if he kept them caged any longer they'd only tear at their constraints, crawling up to release themselves as howls.
He'd never allowed himself to remember his brother.
He had tried to forget the man had existed, that the hatred between himself and Black was one of his own making, that there was no link to the aforementioned.
That the failure, the absolute collapse of his whole being could not be connected to the smiling eyes and always waiting open arms. He had joined the Dark Lord not out of spite, revenge, anger, pain, but for knowledge. But knowledge was hollow and he had learned that lesson well, it could never hide his true intentions.
The mirror that sat before him showed a young untainted boy, no scar marred his forehead, the reflection was not of the boy who lived. It was of himself as a young child, hiding behind long dark hair, while an older man draped himself over him, arms around his waist, and his chin on the shorter boys shoulder.
Severus could remember their smiles even when he closed his eyes.
That was true happiness.
But he couldn't stop the tears.
HP
Harry stumbled backwards, wrenching his eyes from the mirror. He didn't notice the form of the young man kneeling before the glass as he staggered back into a wall just outside the room that housed the mirror. Fighting to keep himself balanced, he stepped forward again, struggling against his trembling knees as he moved slowly back into what he realised was a crypt.
Low stone walls fed off the light of the corridor, shadowed greens and pallid yellows cast eerie patterns as the torches outside danced with magic. But Harry could only see the pale curve of silver that encircled the flat pane of his reflected heart.
"It can't…" His voice broke through the thick silence that had gathered around the room like the eye of a storm while everything raged just beyond the stone doorway.
"What are you doing here Potter?" A snarl and a quick movement caught Harry's attention before his head snapped back, colliding with cold stone, a hand pressed to his chest, a wand to his throat.
Harry swallowed, he needed to do this carefully, he knew how easy it could be to set off the already unstable magic. He also knew that once the magic coursed through him he knew he was volatile, it didn't matter if Snape was a master of Occlumency or not, the fact he had reached this stage at all meant he was set on the very edge of a precipe, he had no control and one wrong word could not only push Snape over the edge but also bring the whole mountain down with him.
He was dangerous.
"I came to see if you were alright."
A snort as the wand was pushed a little harder into his throat.
"A likely story. You not only ruin my life but have the nerve to come and find me to twist the knife in a little deeper."
"Ruined your life sir?" Harry knew he had to tread carefully, try and draw the man back from the dangerous grounds he was walking on.
"You are not pleased with your perfect family life so you must go and ruin anothers."
Harry could only blink owlishly at the statement, as he tried not to breath too hard, holding himself hard against the stone wall. With the dangerous sliver of wood still held hard against his throat Harry tried not to think of the other man's past and his extensive knowledge of spells and hexes.
"Draco is my Godson."
Harry nodded confused.
"I know that sir."
The shorter boy hissed.
"Do not play games with me Potter. Do you feel accomplished now that you have succeeded in doing something the whole of Britain's wizarding population could not do?"
Harry found himself lost in the face of the other mans anger. How could he help if he didn't know what the man was talking about? What did Draco have to do with it? Was he angry he had saved the boy from the Dark Lord? Or maybe this was something else the other man had somehow come to a conclusion about, he being James Potters spawn after all. Although it could have been the potion's accident, Harry frowned, but hadn't they already gone over this?
"You have turned my Godson from me with a few choice words, and you tell me about it as if you wish to be rewarded."
"But-" Harry opened his mouth to protest. Now he had some idea of where this was going, but he'd have to set the man straight. If the man was consoled, if he wasn't distracted from the very dangerous path he was treading… Harry swallowed nervously feeling the first signs of fear creep through him. He should've gone for help, informed Dumbledore, asked for backup. How was he suppose to calm down Snape? This could all end badly.
"Don't you dare utter a pathetic, half-formed denial to excuse your behaviour." The hand pressed him harder against the wall, and Harry wandered why he didn't just push the smaller boy away. The pointed piece of wood at his throat reminded him. As did the green eyes that glowed with a rage and pain that Harry had only once seen when faced with his mentor Lupin, at a full moon, after Petigrew had escaped. It wasn't human.
This was going to end very badly.
"Professor, listen."
"Why should I brat? From what I've learned nothing that spills from your mouth holds anything but half truths."
Harry felt the words slice through him and the icy cold that they brought. He felt himself tense and had to fight the urge to push the other man away.
"No rebuttal? Where is the famed Gryffindor stupidity and sense of pride? Maybe I've wounded you with that last comment. Too close to home was it?"
Harry swallowed the sharp words that lined his tongue.
"You have to listen to me Professor. Draco still-" Harry paused, Draco still what? Cared for the bastard? Liked him? Loved him? Why was the man so willing to care for his blonde haired Godson but put up such a defence around himself against the rest of the world?
"I don't want to hear any lies of yours concerning Mr Malfoy. You've already wrought enough damage boy." The voice was sharp and snapping, icy compared to the magic flaring around the potions master. Harry could tell the magic had been drawn back from it's destructive wandering of the school corridors and had now found a target closer to home, he swallowed nervously.
SS
Severus could feel the tension running through the man he held up against the wall, his wand placed so carefully against one of the most sensitive places on the neck. His fingertips splayed on the chest that used to be his could feel the heart beat fluttering against the ribcage.
He couldn't help but let a small smirk draw his lips up. The power and control he had over this boy, the one who had been destroying his life from the inside out, flickered and snapped around him. He'd been sitting helpless in this body for too long.
He didn't notice the others eyes widen.
How dare the boy take his decision and privacy from him. This was his life he was messing with.
"But sir. He still loves you."
Severus felt the words stifle him, before the angry burst of magic flared around him. He could feel the magic pulsing through him, racing along his wand, crackling against the now frightened boys skin, before running back up the wand.
"How dare you mock me! Safe in you prefect family life, with people doting on you, worshipping the very ground you walk on. Perhaps some aren't lucky enough as you, but I love my Godson and will not have another such as you mock that."
HP
Harry felt the pain spread through him. Here was a man who had made himself unlovable to the world, who had flaunted the shadows that clung to him, hidden in his stone dungeons and had pushed away everyone, and yet he possessed something Harry would never have.
Someone who loved him. Nothing could ever change that.
And here Harry stood, a man who had been forced to love the world and have it love him back, who had fought shadows and been a poster boy for the light, stuck in the public light, wanting nothing more than a family, someone to love him and care for him, someone he could love back.
He would never have that. And he doubted that would ever change.
"I would never mock something so delicate and important. And he does still care for you, he cares for you to an even greater extent now he has some knowledge of what you have been through. He is willing to accept it and love you all the same, which makes him a stronger person than you believe him to be."
Harry couldn't hold the pain out of his voice. Was it so unfair that he had nobody? He was dangerous to be around. Hadn't he gotten others killed or almost killed just by having them near him? Hadn't he almost lost his only member left of his family because of his own stupidity?
The man holding him to the wall stepped back, and regarded him, the magic no longer flaring but simmering cautiously. Harry watched the magic, hoping he could calm the other man down. He didn't want Snape to die, didn't want anyone else hurt because of his stupidity.
"Tell me Potter what do you see in the mirror?" The question caught Harry off guard and before he could stop himself he'd looked to the other side of the room where the clear glass mocked him.
"It's just a mirror sir." He answered with false confusion, looking away quickly in case the man saw the truth in his eyes. The magic around the potion's master flared and Harry swallowed, that was probably not a good sign.
"You are so content with what you have Potter that you have no desires?" The voice was a low growl; dangerous. Harry had never used his voice like that and this unfamiliar quality scared him.
"I don't understand sir." He tried to back away from the man who still had a wand in his hand. He understood perfectly well, the mirror was one that haunted his dreams when the Dark Lord wasn't toying with him. He had had nightmares for weeks after he had sat in front of it, and again when he had been forced to look into it when faced with Quirrell.
The Mirror of Erised.
And what he saw tore at him.
The Mirror of Desire.
The reflection mocked him.
A/N: Thank you all for reading! Please review, dying for feedback on this chapter >
And a quick reminder, anyone read French? please drop me a line!
Love you all!
(update will be Wed next week, asI will be catching a 23 hour flight to Finland on the weekend, updates may be fragmented and inconsistent for the following weeks > sorry guys, but i will try and update every second weekend! I'm going to be there for 4 months.)