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My Heart Burns

Chapter II: Inner Demons

SsSsS

There is no good and evil, only power and those too weak to seek it.

SsSsS

"The stage is set, my lord. But, I do not understand. I thought you meant to retrieve the stone?"

"The stone is the prime objective, but the boy has become important as well. You will not question me as to why."

Quirrell stopped suddenly. He had just come from the third floor, the only entrance he currently knew to the underground chamber that housed the Philosopher's Stone. He meant to steal the stone, as it had amazing power. The stone, a feat of alchemical genius, would prove a fair deterrent to death, a cure to his master's ailment. Quirrell now knew the way in, how to get to the stone, and that was more than he imagined could have happened. He was so far ahead of schedule, everything had gone so well.

For some reason he did not hope to understand, his master wanted Harry Potter.

His lord, who resided with him now, had taken an interest in the boy-who-lived, much to Quirrell's jealousy. Lord Voldemort was with him, not some little mudblood child. But when the dark lord gave an order, you followed it. Quirrell yearned to know why. If only he knew, he could help. He lived for Lord Voldemort, the greatest being upon the earth. As much as the host hated Harry Potter for gaining the attention of the parasite attached to it, Quirrell would still commit any act, any crime, to please the dark lord.

If his master wanted Harry Potter, Quirrell would hand him the boy's head on a silver platter.

sSsSs

Apart from Malfoy and Zabini's playful bickering and Parkinson's incessant nagging, the common room was relatively quiet. Harry sat with Nott, trying to focus on the relative theory of transformation and its subtle difference to transfiguration. It was a slight difference, one easily misunderstood. The properties of the target meant to be changed played the largest factor in determining the proper procedure, the entire equation. Not many could grasp the true art of transfiguration.

Harry wondered if transmutation would be this interesting.

Marcus Flint, an elder Slytherin, disturbed the study session and shoved Harry's thoughts away.

"Potter. Snape's looking for you."

Harry nodded his understanding and made the trek to the potions classroom. Snape called for him to enter the moment Harry knocked on the door.

"Potter. Professor Quirrell has been speaking with you, am I correct?"

"Yes, sir."

"Why?"

Harry, startled by the rare bluntness, blurted out the first thing to come to mind.

"Pardon?"

"I asked you why, Potter. What does Quirrell want with you?"

"I have yet to figure that out, sir. He has asked me to seek him out if I were to have any trouble with my past. He claims to offer comfort."

Snape actually snorted.

"Does he? And what do you think, Mister Potter?"

"What I think, sir, is that he's a liar."

sSsSs

Another day of the same. Quirrell droning on and on about ghouls. "Highly resistant to most magic… blah blah blah… very fast and hard to hit… blah blah blah… usually harmless… blah blah blah."

The subconscious mind can be an amazing tool. It can open up entirely new worlds for the ones who know themselves so fully. On the other hand, your own mind will betray you. There is a piece of your inner thoughts that seemingly no man can control. Like a face inside, it whispers encouragements and hurls insults in one breath. It would not be surprising to Harry if everyone had the same hidden voice he did.

Harry's thoughts wondered into this new ground when he'd tuned out the professor's boring lecture about a creature he'd already read about. Quirrell's words were just a repeat, and so Harry had started ignoring him, preferring to watch the shadows cast by candles dance across the stone walls. It was then that Harry was struck with an odd realization: he was relaxed in an environment where he should be alert.

And his entire body was completely, utterly still.

Less than a month before, Harry had sat pinned by this man's gaze, fearful of something he could not fathom. Now, he was in Quirrell's class, not bothering to even listen. Nor was Harry's arm shaking, though it would in any and every other situation. It was as if Quirrell was the reason for Harry's ease…

You're weak.

The thought was sudden and unexpected. Harry had no control, but knew it spoke the truth. Reliance on other people, for even the slightest thing, is weakness. Knowing now that this stuttering, nervous liar could help him in any way, made Harry angry, frustrated. The face inside called Harry weak, told him that he would never be strong, that he would never be free if he didn't learn everything, if he didn't know everything. The little voice in the back of Harry's mind was right, and becoming more and more persistent with every passing day.

sSsSs

One month, two months. In the third month, all was still quiet. Studying had increased, and so had reading. Harry spent every free moment in the library now, often forsaking food for his new regimen. Harry had listened to his insecurities and self-esteem when it called him stupid. When it said he wasn't good enough. He wanted to prove himself wrong, prove the whole world wrong.

On a crisp Sunday in February, that all came tumbling down. Quirrell, of course, was to blame.

Harry found himself in his Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, sitting quietly while Quirrell mumbled away about some magic mirror. It wasn't until the professor mentioned what the mirror reflected did Harry perk up and really hear what the man was saying. A mirror the showed the deepest desires of your heart? Yes, Harry was curious. He hadn't the slightest clue what his heart truly wanted, as he never felt the desire for anything but what the voice inside wanted. His mind wanted power, but what did his heart want? Harry wanted to look in this mirror more than anything, and when Quirrell offered to take him to see it, Harry ignored the previous warnings of Professor Snape and followed Quirrell.

It was a near fatal mistake.

The mirror showed Harry amazing things. Things he'd never even dreamed of. He was so engrossed in the beautiful fantasy of the Mirror of Erised that the curse from behind was completely unforeseen.

Harry knew pain. The lash of a belt swung so hard it would forever leave a jagged scar. Being thrown to his knees atop a cold, linoleum floor and hearing a resounding crack fill the large kitchen. Week after week of hunger. These things had all been very painful for Harry, especially when they had first been done. This curse was no different. It was a new experience, and it was painful. Perhaps the most painful thing Harry had ever felt. So far. That thought, that knowledge that this suffering would eventually end and that there are far worse events that would surely come to pass, gave Harry a sort of grounding as he lay writhing and screaming on the cold stone floor.

It saved his mind from crumbling in upon itself and breaking like a glass shard.

When Quirrell finally let up from the torture for the first time, Harry had barely noticed. For him, it seemed as if the curse had never left his body. Quirrell's hesitation to reapply the spell was unmistakable, and the second wave of pain was considerably less intense.

The spell only lasted a minute before Quirrell had started flailing around, screaming, in his own world of agony. Perhaps there was some kind of link between Harry and this man? Some bond that prevented Quirrell from hurting him, something that calmed Harry in turn? It was no matter now, as Quirrell was able to compose himself, and, with one last glare toward his former student, was gone.

Pain filled his every muscle, every bone was pressure that he could not endure. With a great effort, Harry was finally able to move himself, only to roll onto his side.

Where he once again faced the mirror of desire. Harry looked into his perfect world before him, staring into the depths of his heart's most beloved wish. Far into a world wreathed in an endless black inferno.

A/N: Finally got a new chapter up! Hope it's good. I know they are short, but this will probably be a short story anyway. Maybe 10-12 chapters in all, but that is just a guess. I honestly have no clue how long it will be. Let me know what you think, if you like it or not, and if there is anything you would do differently. Or just read and go on your way, I won't try to force anyone to review. I love reviews and all, but, hey, it's up to you! I'll just be happy to have hits!