Disclaimer: I obviously don't own the idea of Harry Potter or any of the money making forms of it.
As you can see, this is the longest part so far, enjoy :)
Book 1 – Part 8: Erised
Harry returned to the Common Room sometime later, to the relief of his friends, and told them most of what had happened, excluding the part of Voldemort's memories being the reason why he knew the spell, but he did include some parts about the stone.
At first, he wasn't going to tell them about the stone, but after some thought, he decided they deserved to know why Fluffy was there, and he knew they would keep this secret. Besides, Hagrid seemed to be implying that he and his friends would have figured it anyways, so didn't that mean Hagrid assumed Harry would tell his friends?
Harry also felt that he needed his friends 'in the know', at least to some degree, if anything were to happen. He didn't know why he felt so strongly about this, but he knew he needed his friends on the same page with him on this. He just hoped Hagrid would understand this when he told him that he had included his friends in on this secret.
Harry then hesitantly told them of being an Occlumens, but he knew they should know 'someone' was picking at him. He didn't tell who he thought it was, because at this point it was just speculation, and he didn't want Mr. I-stutter-and-smell-like-I-swam-in-garlic-but-can-poke-in-your-head Quirrell to somehow realize Harry was onto him.
He then told them Dumbledore's warning. That had resulted in Neville's voice cracking and Ron's face losing pigment. Hermione just looked serious. And before they went to bed, they had a moment of serious discussion, mainly about how they would keep an eye out for anything odd.
The next day, rumors and discussion were going among their peers as to what exactly happened with the troll, only knowing that Harry and his friends had stopped it.
"When do you want to go visit Draco?" Neville asked, after taking a few bites.
"After breakfast, I think," Harry said.
"Alright, but let's go in cautiously, we have no clue how he's going to be: grateful or murderous," Ron said.
- - -
Draco hated the taste of these potions, they tasted worse than spoiled milk.
Crabbe and Goyle hadn't visited, not that he cared. After Flint had said those things, they went to the power…just like Potter said.
He sighed, confused, angry, and bewildered.
What was he going to do now? Could he somehow regain the authority he once had in Slytherin?
Probably not, he reasoned. I got saved by none other than Potter and three other Gryffindors, I'll be lucky if I don't get laughed out of Slytherin…
What is my dad going to do? They've had to have told him…
"Mr. Malfoy, you have visitors," Madam Pomfrey said.
She stepped aside, and in came Harry and his three companions. Pomfrey then left to her office, giving the children a nod before going.
Harry and the others approached the bed, Draco just staring.
"Draco, you doin' better?" Harry asked.
Draco grunted.
"Good. Well, we just came to see how you were doing," Harry said simply, taking a step back to leave.
"Potter," Draco said quickly, but then looked away.
"Yeah?" Harry asked, his side to him.
Draco seemed to be thinking, either that or collecting himself enough to speak, probably both.
After a moment, he held out his hand for a shake.
Harry took it, inwardly surprised and pleased, as Draco gave a solid, respectful nod.
Harry returned it before releasing Draco's hand and beginning to leave, but came to a sudden halt a few paces from the bed.
Harry turned slightly.
"Draco?" Harry said, a little uncertainly.
"Potter?"
Harry paused, making up his mind.
"Is it true that you kept the troll at bay with a mirror and a fire spell?" Harry asked, giving a meaningful look. "No? Well, I'm sure the 'truth' is far more interesting than that…if you catch my meaning…"
A mischievous half smile crossed Malfoy's face as the four Gryffindors left the room.
- - -
Draco's story of how he held off the troll, until the four Gryffindors came to finish it, had grown into an epic by dinner time.
Harry gave a nod and a sly smile as he walked past a now healed Draco in the Great Hall. Crabbe and Goyle were once again beside him, listening intently to how he had levitated a broken toilet seat over the troll's head and crowned it before the troll lost its temper and swung its club. Draco continued his story, saying that he had to jump over the club, but that because of the size of the club, it had clipped his leg, hence why he had been in the hospital wing.
"Harry, did Draco really do those things?" Fred asked as he finished his roast beef.
"I don't know, I wasn't there till later, but I did see part of a broken toilet seat on the troll's head before it moved and fell off," he said.
The twins still looked skeptical before getting up to do 'homework'.
Ron rolled his eyes, knowing they were doing anything but.
Rumors continued to run rampant about what had really happened to the troll. After a few days of talk and whispered theories, a 'true account' came into being, boiling down to this:
Draco had fended off the troll, even crowning it with a toilet seat, but was unluckily whacked with the club. Harry and his friends came in and they shot some spells, causing the troll to move back so they could get to Draco. Troll then got angry. Harry stepped into the troll's path, blocking it from his friends and Draco. He then shouted out a powerful mysterious spell, perhaps accidental magic, and killed the troll.
This was no doubt a birth of a legend to be placed in a book, like Hogwarts, a History.
Harry and his friends received amazed looks from many of the other students for days after everything had all passed; and even weeks afterwards, there was a hushed awe people emitted when Potter and the others came near.
Harry and the others were counting the days when this would all just blow over and be forgotten, or at least dimmed, but of course, it took weeks.
At first, after what 'happened' had been sorted out, many wondered why Potter and his friends had come to a Slytherin's aid, and not only that, to a Slytherin who was a thorn in most everyone's backsides.
Potter and his friends had been questioned about this, as well as what spell Potter had actually used (Draco had instinctively kept his mouth shut about that, blaming his lack of memory to the shock and pain he had been in during the time).
"Why did you guys help Draco?" Seamus asked in Transfiguration, a few days after the tale was out.
Harry tilted his head to the side slightly, as if perplexed by why someone was even asking this. Finally, after seeing that everyone within earshot was waiting for him to answer, he did.
"For the same reason why I would come to your or anyone else's aid, it's the right thing to do."
There was of course a little more to it than that, but even if there weren't other things involved, he would have gone to help, so the answer he had given sufficed. Why were his and his friends' actions so hard for others to understand?
A few hours after he had given Seamus his answer, he heard another question aimed at him, this time being in the Great Hall, during dinner.
"Potter."
Harry turned to find a large Ravenclaw Prefect standing behind him. This older boy was slightly intimidating to be honest, but Harry hid his uneasiness.
"Yes?" he asked.
"What spell did you cast? Me and my buddies have been arguing about what you used."
Harry blinked.
Is this really such a big deal that even upper classmen are talking about this, even arguing about it? Harry asked himself, slightly annoyed.
"Uh…" His mouth was suddenly dry.
"Come on now, we already know it wasn't a simple spell or curse," the Prefect prodded.
Should I lie? Harry wondered.
"Don't tell me it was accidental magic," the Prefect said, in disbelief.
"Well, if you want the honest truth, it did happen by accident," Harry admitted. That wasn't a lie.
Apparently this was so impressive that both tables (Gryffindor and Ravenclaw) had grown quiet and two more Prefects suddenly came over, one from Hufflepuff and the other from Slytherin.
"Your accidental magic killed a troll? A fully grown Mountain Troll?" the female Slytherin Prefect asked, the Hufflepuff Prefect coming to a stop beside the one from Ravenclaw to just stare.
Harry could feel his cheeks growing hot.
"It just sort of happened," Harry mumbled, hoping this interrogation would end soon.
"Unbelievable. So what other things have you done?" she continued, clearly taking over from where the Ravenclaw Prefect had left off, just as Percy stood up, went over, and entered the conversation.
"We are all impressed with the actions surrounding the troll incident, but I think that is enough questions," Percy stated, talking his fellow Prefects. "I think Mr. Potter would like to eat while his food is still warm."
Percy stood his ground, causing the other Prefects to nod and retreat to their own tables.
Percy turned his face to Harry, his eyes having paused upon Hermione, Neville, and Ron for a moment before focusing onto Harry.
"Looked like you had had enough and wanted a break from questions," he said.
"Yeah, thanks, uh, Mr. Weasley," Harry said, being formal since Percy had been earlier.
"Please, Mr. Weasley is my father," he said, before happily turning and going back to where he had come from.
Harry looked at Ron who had just managed to close his gaping mouth, surprised at Percy's actions.
Harry had no doubt earned the respect of most everyone in all of the Houses, people who he didn't even know would just come up and talk to him, even a few seventh years.
The Slytherins gave him a large birth of space, some doing it as a sign of respect, while others seemed to be intimidated by him. Whatever the reason, it was hard not to notice how certain tensions between Gryffindor and Slytherin had changed. For the most part they had improved, at least where and when Harry was concerned, but there was a certain group within Slytherin that had seemed to grow more ominous, the head being Marcus Flint.
Draco and his two pals had distanced themselves somewhat from Flint and that group, even though the troll story had reinstated Malfoy into the winner's circle.
Lucius Malfoy had not paid a visit to his son, but, through rumor, had sent him a letter.
No one knew the contents, but Harry was now really glad he had allowed Draco to stretch the truth. After seeing certain things in his memories, he was sure Lucius would not want the main focus to be that his pureblood son had been saved by the boy who had killed his master, a mudblood, the son of two tortured Aurors whose minds were lost, and a son of his sworn enemy at work, not to mention the fact that they were all from Gryffindor.
It was much better to focus on how his son had been keeping his own for a time before reinforcements, of sorts, had arrived, no matter who they had happened to be.
Through the memories Harry had seen that involved Lucius, he knew he was not forgiving, patient, merciful, or tolerant. Knowing this, he understood Draco a little better, understanding that to Draco, he had to prove himself to his father, and had to keep an image that was worthy of a Malfoy.
The Professors looked at Harry and his friends a little differently now. For the most part it was subtle, like a few quick curious glances when they thought they weren't looking, but Flitwick was anything but subtle.
Not even two days after Halloween, he commented in Charms that Draco and Ron had both used Wingardium Leviousa in the fight against the troll, saying that even first year spells are important to truly learn.
Of course, Harry and the others knew that Draco hadn't used Wingardium Leviousa, and Malfoy knew they knew, but how else was the tale of Draco putting that toilet seat on the troll's head supposed to make sense without that little detail?
And later, when passing them in the hall, Flitwick told Hermione how impressed he was that she had used the Pain Relief Charm on Draco, and that she should perhaps look into becoming a Healer.
He had then turned to Harry, looking up at him with approval, before smiling at them all, and heading off. Flitwick was an interesting Professor.
- - -
Harry and the other Gryffindor Quidditch players had been practicing hard; the cold November weather picking up as much as they improved.
Homework was manageable, thanks to Harry and his friends' support system. They were actually a little surprised at how well they were doing, and how easy most of the material was to them.
The first chance Harry got, he told Hagrid that he had told his friends a little about the stone. He was so afraid Hagrid would be mad, but was surprised with Hagrid's response.
"Blimey, Harry, when I said 'don't tell anyone 'bout the stone', I meant outsiders. Yer friends aren't outsiders. If yuh trust 'em, I trust 'em. If I had meant not tuh tell them, I would o' said so, just like you said yuh didn't want anyone tuh know yer secret, not even yer friends. At dat, I knew not tuh tell Dumbledore certain things, because if yeh didn't want yer friends tuh know, Dumbledore would be no different."
"Thanks, Hagrid," Harry said, relief beyond description going through him. He was amazed at Hagrid's way of thought, it was so simple it was almost impossible to grasp, like how children can trust certain things, and adults just can't.
Hagrid, a child in a giant man's body; so simple, yet somehow wise. Harry was glad to count him as a mentor and a friend.
Harry's dreams came and went, and he had only once woken up Ron, who, after seeing he was alright and that it was only a 'little dream', went back to sleep. After these dreams, Harry usually went back to sleep as well, but when he found that he couldn't, he went down into the Common Room and read a spell book or his Potions book.
He would rather have Tom's memories over Voldemort's any day.
Quirrell didn't look his way that often anymore, to Harry's great relief, and the intrusive feelings he got were few and far between, but when they came, he rose his defenses which quickly exceeded those of Fort Knox.
Finally, the day to his first Quidditch game came.
Harry stared at his food.
"You've got to eat some breakfast," Ron said.
"I don't want to eat anything," Harry said.
"Just a bit of toast," Hermione prodded.
"Is there something wrong, Harry?" Neville asked.
Harry sighed.
Actually, there was something wrong, he just didn't know what.
He was getting the feeling someone was gunning for him today, and that someone was going to try something.
"You're going to think I'm being paranoid," he muttered.
"No we won't," Ron said.
"Keep an eye on Quirrell, I don't trust him," he whispered finally, barely making it audible. "I think he's the one who has been…" Harry tapped his head.
Ron and Neville looked at him in surprise, whereas Hermione narrowed her eyes.
"Harry, are you sure?" Ron asked.
Harry nodded.
"You know, he could have let the troll in that night…" Hermione muttered. "We'll watch him, Harry," she stated, before waving some toast at him.
"Fine," Harry muttered, taking the slice of bread.
- - -
Everyone was around the Quidditch pitch for the game, Harry and the others ready.
Finally, when they heard Madam Hooch, they walked out onto the field to begin the game.
Harry took in the crowd and tried to banish the butterflies from his stomach just as the whistle blew, and the game started.
Harry stayed out of the way, keeping his eyes open for the Snitch. After a few plays in the game, he saw something gold…
He went after it, but as he shot forward, a green and silver uniform came out of nowhere, whamming into him, and forcing him off the path to the Snitch.
Marcus Flint.
The whistle blew, Hooch angrily spoke to Flint, Gryffindor was given a free shot, and just as quickly as they had stopped, they were back in the game.
After a few more plays, a dangerously close bludger whizzed past him, and that's when it happened…
He nearly fell as a sharp pain ripped through his scar, the feeling of pure hatred tearing through him, but even without that mental assault, staying on the broom was a job and a half.
The broom was like a bucking horse, only worse. It wasn't bound by gravity, and was capable of sharper turns.
- -
Hagrid stood up, looking with his binoculars at Harry.
"Dunno what Harry thinks he's doin'," Hagrid mumbled, "But if I didn' know better, I'd say he'd lost control of his broom…but he can't have…"
It didn't take long for more people to notice Harry's troubles, just as the broom did a jerk and suddenly flipped, swinging Harry off the broom, making him dangle from it, one hand gripping on the handle.
"Did something happen to it when Flint blocked him?" Seamus whispered.
"Can't have," Hagrid said, his voice shaking. "Can't nothin' interfere with a broomstick except powerful Dark Magic…"
At those words, Hermione snatched Hagrid's binoculars, and scanned the crowd.
"What are you doing?" Ron asked, Neville petrified beside him.
"Look!" Hermione gasped, "Quirrell—look."
"He's jinxing the broom," Ron said, flabbergasted.
"What should we do?" Neville asked, his voice going high.
"Leave it to me," Hermione stated.
- -
Harry was nearly in tears as his scar continued to pulse in pain, something trying to dig into his mind. He felt his fingers slipping when he suddenly had enough.
If this punk wants a piece of me, then he'll have one…Harry focused himself as hard as he could, before releasing one solid memory out—his own of that night…
The pain in his head disappeared at once, as if whoever had been digging had been slammed back, but the broom was still thrashing…
- -
Hermione ran as fast as she could, pulling out her wand as she came under the stands.
She would know that garlic smell anywhere, and knew who to make catch fire.
With a hushed voice, fire came forth, and caught Quirrell's robe.
She dashed out of there as fast as she dared, hearing the sighs of relief from the crowd just seconds afterwards.
- -
"Neville, you can look!" Ron said to Neville who had been peeking through his fingers the whole time.
They watched Harry clamor back onto his broom, before suddenly diving to the ground and leveling out.
They gasped as he put his hand over his mouth, as if he was about to lose his lunch, just before he landed, stumbled off his broom, and coughed—a golden sphere landing in his hand.
"I've got the Snitch!" he shouted, waving it over his head.
- - -
Right after the utterly confusing end of the game, Harry and his friends went to Hagrid's house for some strong tea.
"It was Quirrell," Ron explained, "We saw him. He was cursing your broomstick, muttering, he wouldn't take his eyes off you."
"Rubbish," said Hagrid, who hadn't heard them during the game, he was too concerned about Harry. "Why would Quirrell do somethin' like that?"
The others looked at each other.
"Quirrell's a Hogwarts teacher, he'd do nothin' of the sort."
"So why did he just try and kill Harry?" Hermione cried.
"Hagrid."
Hagrid turned to Harry, whose voice was dead serious.
"He's the one who's been trying to mess with my head," Harry stated.
That shut Hagrid right up.
"What I told you earlier, I got those… feelings, when I looked at him. He's bad news. And half the reason why I nearly fell off was because he was ramming me pretty hard, mentally. Well, I stopped that—I pushed back…"
Hermione, Ron, and Neville were now staring, wondering what he meant by 'pushed back.'
"'Pushed back'?" Hagrid asked.
"I showed him what it looks like getting hit with the killing curse," Harry muttered.
"Wow, that's awesome, Harry!" Ron said, receiving odd looks from the others. "Well, it is…" he muttered, shrinking a little.
"I think we should bring this to Professor Dumbledore," Hermione stated.
Neville nodded.
Harry's friends looked to Hagrid, who in turn looked at Harry, who nodded.
"Alright. I'll go talk to him, I'd like ter keep yeh all out of this as much as possible, I don' want Quirrell to see that yeh lot are going with me ter Dumbledore, he might s'pect somethin'."
"Alright, Hagrid."
- - -
They had gone to Gryffindor Tower after leaving Hagrid's. The Common Room was empty because of the amount of studying most were doing at the library.
"I think I should start teaching you guys Occlumency," Harry said suddenly, the four of them by the fireplace.
"You think you could?" Hermione asked.
"Well, I've got a good handle on it, especially now that I understand what I'm doing," Harry said.
"I think that's a good idea," Ron said.
"Yeah, I don't want Quirrell near my head," Neville agreed.
"I suppose I could just start by explaining what it feels like," Harry began.
Harry gave a good overview of how it feels once one has these 'borders' up, and how it feels when someone is poking at them. He also told them how to get rid of them if you feel like your mental wall is about to break.
"You think of your worst memory, remember as much detail about it, if you want, I think you could even add things to it. Make sure it is shown from your point of view, and build it up before lowering you shields for an instant, and pushing it out as hard as you can," Harry said.
"Your worst memory?" Neville asked.
"Yeah, a powerful one."
They were quiet for a moment, thinking about which memory they would choose if they were forced into that situation.
"So, now what? You just focus?" Hermione asked.
"I suppose. You center yourself, clearing your head before building a wall around you," Harry said.
"How do we know if we're doing it right?" Ron asked.
"I don't know, you think there'd be anything in the library about it?" Harry asked.
"Probably only in the Restricted Section…I've read most of the other books outside of that, and I haven't read anything like Occlumency before," Hermione said.
"Hmm," Harry sighed.
- - -
The next day, they went to Hagrid's place after their classes.
He was quiet.
"Hagrid, what did Professor Dumbledore say?" Harry asked.
"He said he already had his suspicions, and he'll keep a closer eye on him…" Hagrid muttered.
Neville looked as if his eyes were about to pop out.
Ron and Hermione gaped.
Harry was mad.
"What?! Why?! That man nearly killed me, and he's going to keep him around!?" Harry shouted, the tea cups and plates on the table beginning to rattle.
"Calm yourself, Harry," Ron said, startled like the others.
Harry noticed the shaking things and relaxed.
"Why doesn't he just sack him?" Harry asked, a little more quietly.
"Harry, he has his reasons," Hagrid said. "He told me that Snape had s'pected somethin' odd 'bout him at the beginnin' of the year—"
"My scar! Remember when I told you guys I had bitten myself?" Harry said, "I looked at Quirrell, and right before he looked away, my scar hurt."
"Snape probably noticed," Ron said.
"Well, he's on Dumbledore's radar now, now more than ever," Hermione said.
"You know, maybe he wants to keep a close eye on him, you know, keep your enemies close and all?" Neville suggested, looking at Harry.
"Yeah, maybe he's not too keen on the idea of not knowing where that guy is," Hermione continued.
Harry nodded, agreeing with them, but that still didn't make him feel any better.
After leaving Hagrid's, they finished their homework that was due the following day, before going into a lesson of Occlumency, though at the moment, it was probably more like simple meditation, but it was a start.
- - -
Before they knew it, Christmas was near. Hermione was getting ready to return home, as was Neville. Ron and his brothers were staying with Harry since their parents were visiting Charlie.
"I'll try and find some things on Occlumency if I can," Hermione said, before going. "And I'll practice 'centering' myself," she added.
"I will too," Neville said, "Though, if I ask Gran about Occlumency, she'd probably think I was mental."
"Alright, well, have a Merry Christmas," Harry said.
- - -
Ron and Harry enjoyed the empty dormitory, and the nearly empty Common Room. Harry and Ron played wizard chess, Ron trying not to beat Harry too hard.
Finally, Christmas morning came. Harry was sure he wasn't going to get any presents, but was in for a surprise.
At the foot of his bed was a pile of presents.
"I've got presents!" Harry said, turning to Ron who was turning to his own pile.
"Yeah," Ron said, sort of surprised at how excited Harry was.
Harry got a large box of chocolate frogs from Hermione, and an enchanted Venus Fly Trap from Neville that changed colors depending how full it was.
Harry then came upon Hagrid's gift, a wooden flute.
"Nice," Ron said, before looking to the other gifts to Harry. "Oh, my Mom. I told her you didn't expect any presents…oh, she's made you a Weasley sweater," he said, not sounding excited. "Every year she makes us all sweaters."
"That's cool," Harry said, looking at his green sweater next to the box of homemade fudge.
Harry then came upon his last gift. Opening it, a silvery light cloth poured onto his hand and onto the bed.
"WHOA! I know what that is!" Ron gasped.
"What is it?" Harry asked, feeling it in his hands.
"It's an Invisibility Cloak, they're really rare. Put it on!" Ron said, turning towards him more.
Harry got off the bed and put it on.
"It is!" Ron said.
Harry looked down and found that his body was gone.
"Wow…"
"Look, there's a note," Ron said, pointing to a piece of paper on the floor.
Harry picked it up, and read it.
Your Father left this in my possession before
he died. It is time it was returned to you.
Use it well.
A very Merry Christmas to you.
Soon after, the twins came bounding in. Harry quickly put the cloak away, the words 'Use it well' echoing in his mind.
- - -
That night, after the amazing Christmas dinner and a few games of wizard chess, Harry got up, unable to sleep, and pulled out the invisibility cloak.
He had already decided how he would use this gift 'well'. He looked to Ron who was sleeping, and decided if he didn't wake him, Ron would be mad at him later.
"Ron…" Harry whispered, shaking him awake.
"Wha'?" he asked before jumping, seeing Harry's head floating in midair.
"Want to go to the Restricted Section?" Harry asked.
Ron smiled, getting up, both of them setting off to the library.
- -
The cloak easily covered them both, and they made it to the Restricted Section without a problem.
"What kind of book do you think it would be in?" Ron asked as they began scanning the titles.
"Maybe this?" Ron asked, pulling a book off the shelf and opening it.
"AHH—! "
He slammed it shut at just the start of the scream.
"That's a bad book…" Ron whispered.
They continued looking through the books, searching for anything on Occlumency.
"Maybe this," Harry whispered, pulling down a book titled: Occlumency and Legilimency, the Light and Dark of Mind Wars.
They cautiously opened it, and were relieved when it stayed silent.
"Look, there's an incantation to do Legilimency, Legilimens," Harry said, flipping through the book.
They flipped through it for a good hour, storing directions and quick tips for later in doing Occlumency and improving it. They stayed away from Legilimency for the most part, only skimming through the basics of how to do it; they were more focused on learning Occlumency.
Their study time was cut short, however, by a meow and footsteps.
"Filch!" Ron said in a rushed whisper.
They both got under the cloak, put the book back and went around the perimeter, all the while Filch saying, "I know someone's in here! Come out!"
Finally, they got out of the library, and were too concerned about just getting out that they didn't care where they went. Going down a narrow corridor, they went through a door and hoped they could wait there until the coast was clear.
Looking around the room, they found themselves in a kind of deserted classroom. Old desks and chairs were piled up against the walls, but the wall facing them was clear, all except for a large mirror.
"Wow, that's a big mirror," Ron whispered as they went forward, Harry stuffing the cloak inside his pajama shirt.
The mirror was big, going all the way up to the ceiling. It was fancy too, having a golden frame and clawed feet, and at the top it read: Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi.
They stepped before it, both of them leaning towards it.
They both gasped, leaping back.
"Are you seeing what I'm seeing?" Ron breathed, walking forward again, now that he knew it wasn't going to bite.
"I don't know. Are you seeing people?" Harry asked, stepping beside him, looking at the countless faces happily staring back at him.
"No, I see me—only I'm Head Boy, and I'm holding the Quidditch Cup!"
He paused, turning to look at Harry.
"What do you see?"
Harry walked closer, actually stretching his arm out and touching the glass with his hand.
"I think I see my family…"
Ron was quiet as they both looked back at the mirror.
"What is this?" Ron quietly asked. "It can't be showing the future, can it?"
"No, unless there's a way to bring people back," Harry muttered.
Ron looked down, sorry for his friend—seeing himself as Head Boy and as Quidditch Captain suddenly didn't seem that important anymore.
He had his family.
"I think we should go," Ron said finally.
"Just a moment, I want to have a good look at everyone, maybe I can find something about one of them in a book if I know what they look like," Harry said, his eyes looking all around on the mirror.
Ron gave a nod, waiting for Harry to memorize his past family's faces.
Harry looked from his parents, pushing aside the memory of Voldemort killing them as he looked beyond them. He found a strong man with green eyes behind his mother, an old man with messy black hair holding a cane, and countless others who looked so much like himself.
He wished he could just stand there all night, and that time would just stop.
It was when he let his eyes just glaze over, taking in the whole view of them, that something happened.
It was as if the image in the mirror shuddered, and a shade of darkness passed over it.
He unknowingly gasped and took a step back as a faded image came over his family.
Himself.
Just standing there.
"Harry, what are you seeing?" Ron asked suddenly, worried after Harry had gasped and had taken a step back.
Harry didn't like this, something wasn't right.
Harry was about to say he wanted to leave as a flash of green suddenly overtook the reflection in the mirror, causing Harry to jump back in horrified surprise.
"What?!" Ron asked as Harry stared wide eyed at the dim reflection before him.
"I'm dead…"
Harry turned and looked at Ron whose eyes were just as wide as his own. At that, Harry pulled his cloak out and they bolted to the door, both of them quickly getting under the protection of invisibility as they ran out of the room.
By the time they got to the Common Room they were huffing and puffing.
"I don't like that mirror," Harry got out as they entered their dormitory.
"Me neither. You think it's possessed?" Ron asked as Harry put his cloak away.
"I don't know, but I'm not going near that thing again," Harry stated.
"Good idea."
"Why do you think it was in there?" Harry asked, getting his breathing under control.
"I don't know, I mean, the three headed dog is at least guarding something. That, I have no idea why they would have it in an empty classroom, let alone in Hogwarts."
They both climbed into their beds.
"Why did you see that?" Ron asked, his voice low.
"I don't know, but it wasn't cool. It was weird, and it wasn't as clear as the image of my family. There was a green flash and then…" his voice trailed off. Ron guessed what he saw next.
"That mirror is cursed, no doubt about it. It's bewitched or something."
"Maybe it was a warning," Harry whispered.
"Kind of an abrupt way to warn someone, don't you think?"
"It got the message across," Harry muttered.
- - -
A/N: Harry's heart's desire is still the same as in the book because it is something he will never have but sees most everyone else having. I think the fact he has Voldemort's memories strengthens this choice. He knows how his family was taken, having seen it from Voldemort's eyes, seeing that night from the point where Voldemort entered the house to the rebound of the curse. He also understands his parents' killer more, further comprehending that he didn't just lose his family, they were taken from him, and in a manner he can see perfectly within his mind.
As for the second thing he saw in the mirror, I am sure many, if not all, of you noticed, is the heart's desire of Voldemort…(if you can say he has a heart that is)
Again, for those of you who review, -thanks- each of you help me type faster. :)
And if any of you have questions, feel free to ask.
Next part: Norbert
