At dinner, Hermione asked the question that he was dreading.

''Are those sunglasses? Harry, why are you wearing sunglasses indoors?

''Well, I just like them.'' He said simply.

''It's just ridiculous. It's the evening, and quite cold.''

''Who cares?'' Ron asked, who had just finished eating. ''They're just some glasses.''

''Well, I suppose. Still. Sunglasses indoors?''

The sunglasses stayed on for the duration of dinner, and Harry barely ate. ''I'm just not that hungry.'' Was his answer. He never did have a big appetite, after all.

But it seemed dinner would go on just slightly longer than usual. Dumbledore rose to his feet, his voice enveloping the hall.

''It has been a long day, and I do know we all are ever so tired, but let me keep you back for just a moment. Professor Snape, if you will.''

As if on command, Professor Snape stood up from the teacher's table as well, his pitch-black eyes flickering across the hall, and for a moment, Harry could have sworn they stopped on him.

''One of you has been stealing from me, someone in this room has been creeping into the potions room, and stealing my potions. If you admit to it now, then you will only be serving detention for the next three months. If not, then the punishment will be far worse than you could possibly imagine.''

Whispers travelled throughout the entire hall, but he didn't partake in it.

''Stealing from Snape, are you mad?''

''Honestly, he deserves it,'' Ron said, joining the conversation. ''Did you see what he did to Nevile today?''

''Ron,'' Hermione said, giving Ron a pointed look. ''I know this is Professor Snape, but he is still a teacher, and stealing isn't right.''

''Hermione's right,'' Harry said. ''It's Professor Snape, but I don't see why anyone would want to steal from a teacher.''

Later on, when everyone was asleep and the only sound that filled the castle was the clock ticking, Harry sat on a bed, no longer smiling and his face like stone. He put on a cloak and did the buttons up, but that did nothing to hide his eyes.

They were golden. An inhuman gold. One of the first things people spoke about Voldemort was his eyes.

''There's no way he was human. I heard he had red eyes.''

So what did that make him?

Harry put something else on, his invisibility cloak.

With it draped around his body, Harry ventured through the halls of Hogwarts. A mouse hidden beneath the cracks would be found before him.

An unlocking charm later, he slipped into the Potions room and could take absolutely anything, but his eyes flicked towards a dusty cupboard, just by a window, that oversaw the courtyard.

He reached out through his cloak, to dig through the cupboard, and thankfully it was easy to find. The potion held a rotten stench, with liquid that a Muggle could easily confuse with blood.

Harry could recall reading that it was for vampires who wanted to hide their slitted eyes for a time. Vampires, not humans. That didn't stop him from gulping it down, but he was not able to finish it before the door flung open.

''You will come on out. I set an alert that would inform me if anyone foolish enough would dare enter. If you do not show yourself, then you will be expelled, immediately and this will not be overturned.''

The potion fell, broken shards of glass shattered across the floor, now painted in crimson. The cold eyes of Professor Snape turned to him.

''I will not repeat myself. Show yourself, or else.''

Harry did not come out of hiding. If he did, Professor Snape would see his eyes. No, that simply couldn't happen. Maybe if he stayed still, he would leave. Maybe that would work on a muggle, but a Wizard?

Knowing there was little choice, Harry began to make his way to the door. Otherwise, Snape would find him, and a fate worse than expulsion would greet him. Everyone would know the truth.

His steps were short and measured, muffled as he had no shoes on. Once he reached the door he ran. He ran faster than he had in his life, faster than he thought was possible, only stopping when the Gryffindor Tower was in sight.

Harry hurled his cloak off and threw it away in a chest, before dropping onto his bed, though he did not lay down. It was not time to rest.

''Harry, that you?'' Ron mumbled, who was still laying down. ''What're you even doing?''

''Nothing,'' Harry said quickly. He turned his face away, so that all the other boy could see was his back.

''Why are you even up? It's like, midnight.''

''I just woke up now.'' He said pleasantly, with the way his face was screwed up into a scowl in the darkness.

''You don't look like you just got up now. You're always moody and stuff when you get up.''

''I told you I just woke up.'' He said coldly, all pleasantries gone. ''Why would I lie? That's stupid.''

''I dunno. It's-''

''Then stop questioning me. I just woke up.''

Ron started to sit up. ''What's up, why are you are so prissy?''

His scowl deepened. Prissy, huh? But as if a switch had been flipped, it vanished. He flashed Ron a smile and explained.

''I'm sorry, Ron, I just had a nightmare and couldn't sleep.''

''Oh,'' Ron said quietly. ''My bad. You wanna talk about it?''

'It's fine, I'm probably going to sleep soon.''

But sleep was not on his mind. Harry lay in his bed, wide awake and stone-faced, and it wasn't until Ron's snoring filled the room did he get his mirror.

His eyes were green again.

He fell back into his bed, smiling away. The thought, How did I slip up? You know better, Harry. Nobody likes a prissy. Was the last thing that would cross his mind, before he was pulled into a deep sleep.

But how long would it last?

''Crucio.''

Harry screamed louder than he had in his life. Pain pulsed through him. It felt like daggers were piercing through his body at all angles before boiling hot water was poured all over him, that melted to the bone.

''How's that?'' Professor Quirrell asked, his eyes wide and mad. ''How's that? Lord Voldemort will reward me for not only killing you but reviving him. I've wanted to do this all year, but now I can, and nobody will stop me!''

''Stop it!'' He stared at his reflection in the mirror; his eyes were horribly damp and dull. ''Just stop it, and do what you're going to do.''

''Not another word, Crucio!''

Harry screamed and writhed across the floor, a pool of saliva under him.

''But do you want me to stop it? Very well. I'll stop. I'm going to have to finish things eventually.'' Professor Quirrel said before a low, demonic voice rang out. ''No. He is mine. The boy is mine.''

In the matter of moments, Professor Quirrell went rather pale. ''Yes, master. Of course, I'm sorry. But aren't you-''

''Silence.'' The voice hissed. ''I am your master, and you shall do as I say. Now, take the Turban off and let me see the boy's face.''

''Yes, Master.'' Quirrel obeyed, and the quivering returned. He slowly unveiled his Turban, and in the mirror, Harry saw the most terrible face imaginable.

A deformed face had materialised at the back of Quirrels's head. It had to be a demon, with its red eyes and chalk-white skin.

''Harry Potter... I finally see the boy who had vanquished me all those years ago. I have the stone, and I shall be revived to how I was ten years ago. But first, I shall kill the very boy responsible.''

''No — you can't!'' Bravery flooded through his veins and Harry was able to stand, even if his wand was halfway across the room. ''I can't let you. You killed my parents, I'm not going to let you go!''

The face stayed the same, but his eyes. His scarlet eyes turned ever so cruel.

''Albus never told you the truth, did he not?''

''What?'' He asked, no longer looking at his wand ''What do you mean?''

Voldemort waved Quirrell's wand, and the world seemed to spin. Harry kneeled over, his hands pressing against the cold floor.

''Do not speak over me. I will not allow that to happen a second time.'' Voldemort hissed. ''But I shall tell you. There was once a prophecy, that a boy from another world would appear, to cause problems for I.''

''What? But that can-''

''Did I tell you not to utter another word?''

Harry flew into the air, the back of his head bouncing off the wall. He was frozen there as if an invisible net of chains had seized him in place.

''James and Lily Potter are not your parents, they were simply the ones whom found you.''

''Liar!'' Harry was able to yell. He squinted, but the room still spun. ''You're lying!''

''What reason would I have to lie?'' Voldemort slithered closely. ''You are not from this world, for what child has natural golden eyes?''

''How do you-'' He stopped, and tried to cover his eyes, but his arms were stiff as a board. ''Why are you even telling me this, I don't get it, why are you even telling me this!''

''Why would I not? To learn that your life is a lie is knowledge that I have rewarded you with, and the very last thing that shall cross your mind.''

He hung his head low, no longer speaking. Was this just a game for you?

''You have proven to be a thorn in my side. If it was not for you, then my plans would ought to have been a success. But I am merciful. I take no pleasure in killing children, so I shall grant you a quick death.''

''So they really aren't my parents?'' He asked, his head still lowered. ''That was just a lie?''

''Yes, that is right.'' Voldemort pressed his wand against Harry's forehead. ''Avada-''

Before Voldemort could finish the Incarnation, Harry finally looked up, his eyes a frighteningly dark gold. He spoke, his voice a demonic, inhuman growl. ''People have been lying to me my whole life, and I've had enough!''

The room trembled and shook. Everything from the surface flew to the ceiling, and everything from the ceiling flew to the surface, all apart from Harry, who was now freed from his chains. He stalked across the room, as Voldemort was pinned against the wall and the mirror of Erised shattered into a thousand pieces.

''Weren't you going to kill me, go ahead and try!''

With a simple glance, Quirrell's wand exploded, the wooden remains splattering across the room.

''It seems that the prophecy was accurate,'' Voldemort said, sounding more irritated than fearful. ''But I shall not allow myself to be bested by a mere child.''

Harry's own wand flew in the direction of Voldemort, but when his eyes fell into a darker gold, it changed course. He caught it but discarded it immediately.

''Leave!'' Harry commanded, ''I've had enough of you, just leave!''

Even if you are capable of banishing me twice, I shall ret-''

''No, you won't!''

Voldemort was lifted into the air, in the direction of where Harry's eyes went. The ceiling. He was nothing more than a fly on the wall, to be crushed under his foot. That is what he thought. But something strange occurred.

The body of Professor Quirrel went limp, though Harry knew this wasn't of his doing.

Voldemort's face slowly vanished, only for a wispy skull to appear. It dove down and went for his throat. It flew straight through his body, like a phantom, and the temperature dropped rapidly.

''You're body is mine.''

His fingers grew blue and horribly stiff. He could not move them. The world darkened, but he was still able to manage ''Get out! Get out of me, get out of me!''

''Your body, it's mine!''

A golden flash of light swept across the room.

''Get out, get out of me, get out of my head!''

The skull came out from the other side, screaming in agony.

''Leave! Leave! Leave!''

The skull gave one final shriek, before diving through the wall, and never returning.

But it was done. Harry staggered towards the edge of the destroyed room, as tears of blood began to stream from his eyes. But could not reach the door before toppling.

For several years a figure had been present in his life. Not a friend, or even a person. But a shadow that only appeared in his dreams.

A faceless shadow that lurked in the background, as the setting changed, to Little Whinging, at Hogwarts with Ron, or even when the world found out the truth and hunted him down.

Two dreams were never the same, but there was one thing that stayed true. The faceless shadow lurked, watching, but never speaking.

But this time the shadow walked into the light, its dull golden eyes piercing through him.

''You have awoken.'' The voice said, and it sounded strangely familiar. ''But how long will it last?''

Harry bolted up in his bed, that was not his. He looked around the hospital wing but did not see the face of Professor Dumbledore before he said.

''Good morning, Harry.''

''The stone.'' He croaked. ''The stone, where is-''

''Calm yourself. The stone is safe. You do not need to worry yourself.''

''It is?''

''Yes,'' Dumbledore said calmly. ''It is safe. You are safe, and so are your friends.''

''But what about Voldemort, where is he?''

''I am afraid, Harry. That he is still out there.'' Dumbledore said, his face unchanging. ''But at this time, he is gone.''

He grabbed a hold of his covers, the memories of last night washing over him.

''But may I ask what occurred? Voldemort is cunning as he is evil.''

''Nothing happened.'' He said, cooly.

''Harry?'' Dumbledore asked softly.

His eyes went down to his covers, but when they returned to Dumbledore, he managed to speak calmly.

''Maybe I shouldn't say nothing happened there, he did try to kill me. But I'm fine. I'm alive, and to be honest, that's all that matters.''

''I am happy to hear that you are in high spirits. I understand that this term has been difficult, but from now on, you will be safe. I promise you of that.''

''I know sir.'' He said. ''When can I leave? I feel better now.''

''I am afraid that choice is not up to me.''

It wasn't. Madame Pomfrey cast some spells on him, to make sure everything was okay.

Everything was.

Harry left the hospital wing, right as the clocks struck 7, and spotted two people sleeping outside. He went up to them but did nothing else. Not that there was any need in the end.

''Harry, that you?'' Ron said sluggishly, before tapping Hermione on the shoulder. ''Hermione, get up.''

''What.'' Hermione blinked and rubbed her eyes. ''Harry, is that you?'' She flung her arms around him tightly enough that it hurt. ''We were so worried. Ron was in bad enough shape, but you wouldn't even wake up!''

''Well, I'm fine now,'' Harry said, which wasn't a wholly lie. He was fine.

''We really were. It was freaky.'' Ron said, getting up from the floor. ''What happened though?''

There was a moment of hesitation for Harry. ''Well, it wasn't Snape. It was actually Professor Quirrel, believe it or not.''

''You gotta be kidding me,'' Ron muttered. ''Quirrel?''

'Yeah….'' He whispered. ''It's weird, but it was him.''

''It does make sense,'' Hermione said. ''We did just see Professor Snape not long ago. But what happened?''

''What do you mean what happened? I already told you.''

''She means what happened,'' Ron repeated for her. ''Mate, did you really take on a teacher by yourself?''

Harry racked his brain. He could say he did, but what happened to Professor Quirrel in the end? ''Professor Dumbledore beat him, not me.'' Was another option, but who even came first? His friends, Dumbledore, or even someone else?

Then there was the option to tell the truth, all of it.

''Well, I thought Professor Dumbledore already told you two.''

''He wouldn't tell us anything,'' Hermione said, shaking her head. ''We didn't even see him enter before he was carrying you out!''

''I'm not going to lie. I don't really remember what happened. I know a spell hit me, and everything went dark.''

''Harry.' Hermione said and gnawed on her bottom lip. ''Are you really okay? You aren't still hurt, are you?''

''I said I'm fine, and I am. Really.''

He was fine. That is what Harry thought to himself. And he was.

''About the castle,'' Ron said frowning. ''It was Quirrel, right?''

''What about the castle?'' He asked. ''And what do you mean if it was Quirrel?''

Hermione answered first.

''It flew into the air. I remember losing balance, it was awful. I couldn't stand.''

''Then when we got out people started talking.'' Ron went on for her. ''People were saying stuff like the castle literally flew into the air.''

''What?' He asked, astonished, but quickly regained his cool. ''I don't remember Professor Quirrel doing anything like that, but probably. I was unconscious for a while.''

It took some convincing, but Harry split from Ron and Hermione. Missing breakfast was worth it for some silence.

Food was at the bottom of his concerns. He went to the boy's dorms and sat in silence, something that was all too rare in Hogwarts.

Flying Castles. Golden eyes. Lies. Lies. And more lies.

Harry cupped his face, fingers like ice against his skin.

But his silence wouldn't last. Ron came in not long after.

''There you. What are you even doing?''

He lifted his pillow. ''I'm just looking for something, but I can't find it.''

''Oh, okay.'' Ron shot him a look. ''So, er. You know what happened?''

He frowned and dropped his pillow. ''What happened?''

''Well, it's about Quirrell.''

He got up from his bed, doing everything to keep a straight face. ''Did something happen?''

Ron hesitated. ''Well..it's like this: the Headmaster just said, well, that Quirrell was killed. He actually just said he passed away, but you know.''

The world slowed, but he was still able to manage. ''What?''

''Yeah,'' Ron said. ''That got me too.''

''He probably didn't have a choice.'' He said. ''Professor Quirrell was going to kill me otherwise.''

''Course I know that, mate. Quirrell was a dark wizard, still….can't really imagine the Headmaster killing anyone.''

''I can't either.'' He said. ''Ron, if you try and confront him….he'll probably get-''

''You think I'll do what?'' Ron cut him off. ''You think I'll ask the Headmaster if he killed someone? Are you mad?''

He shrugged. ''I don't know, Ron. It just seems like something you would do.''

''Well, no way I'm doing that.''

He nodded, and almost said, ''Good.'' But instead, he asked. ''Is breakfast over yet?''

''Yeah, it finished a while ago. Lessons gonna be starting soon.''

''It's Potions, right?'' He said. ''We should probably go. Snape is going give us detention if we're a minute late.''

''C'mon, don't tell me you're actually thinking of going?''

''Why wouldn't I?''

''I don't know, maybe because Hermione will nag you, and honestly, I agree with her. You just got out of the hospital.''

''I'm fine.'' He said easily. ''It could have gone worse.''

''You sure?''

''I'm sure.''

''Well, okay then. Hermione's gonna be nagging you all day though.''

''She's just overreacting like she always does.'' He said and sighed. ''Don't tell her I said that though.''

''I won't.''

The two of them made their way out of the dorms, into the halls full of students, who whispered about him more than usual.

''I won't be long,'' Harry said. ''I just need to go to the toilet.''

The other boy looked him up and down.

''You sure you're really just going to the toilet?''

''Why would I lie about going to the toilet?'' Harry asked, crooking an eyebrow. ''If you want, you can wait for me outside.''

Ron walked by, hands in pockets and his face full of laughter.'' I'll see you in a minute.''

Harry entered the bathroom, but even there it was impossible to get a moment of silence. Draco Malfoy washed and dried his hands, with a flick of his wand.

''Potter.'' The other boy said, face wrinkling as his eyes laid on Harry.

Harry didn't acknowledge the other boy and walked by him as if he were alone in the bathroom.

''Is it true?''

''Is what true?'' He asked, eyes narrowed.

''That you were sent to the Hospital wing. Flint even said that you were crying in your sleep like a baby.''

Draco is just trying to get you. He thought. He really needs to do better than that.

''You'll be crying in the hospital wing if you don't leave.''

''Oh, how scary, Potter.''

But Draco did leave, although only after barging by him.

Now alone, Harry walked along the bathroom, across the waterlogged floor which filled his shoes. He hunched over the sink and stared at the reflection in the mirror, and for a split second his green eyes faded into gold.

''Who are you, who even are you? Just tell me! You aren't Harry Potter, Just Tell Me, Who Are You!''

He cracked it. He hurled his fist back and glass splintered into his knuckles, leaving bloody, jagged imprints. But he didn't stop. He cursed and swore, not stopping the barrage against the mirror, until all that could be seen through his bleary vision, was a shattered reflection.

But as quickly as Harry started, he stopped. His hands went to his pockets and no anger could be seen in his face.

If he left now, maybe he would make it to class in time.

''You are late, Potter''

''I'm sorry, sir. It won't happen again.'' Harry said. He had his hands in his pockets.

''It will not. Hands out of your pocket, do try not to act like a common Muggle.''

''My hands are cold.''

''15 points from Gryffindor. Now, sit.''

He walked halfway across the classroom, to sit between Ron and Hermione.

''Your hands are cold?'' Ron said and snorted. ''Yeah, right.''

''What are you doing, Harry? You should be resting.''

''I told you I'm fine.'' He said. ''There's only a week left of school left anyway.''

''That doesn't matter. You just got out of the hospital wing!''

He huffed. ''If I should be resting, so should you two. We went through the same situation.''

''Yeah, but we didn't get sent to the hospital,'' Ron muttered.

''Ron is right. It really was scary. You weren't moving at all!'' She said. ''But I know we aren't going to convince you. You really are too stubborn.''

He just smiled, as his 'cold' hands burnt away in his pockets.

''I'm not stubborn. Hermione, I'm fine. You really don't need to worry so much.''