She sat cross legged on the cool grass, trying not to feel too awkward. It was early, and Hermione had joined Harry and Neville for their morning exercise, both to avoid being left behind and because Harry picked today to start trying to teach them how to use magic the way that he did. Harry sat beside her, and Neville sat on his other side as they waited for Harry to put his thoughts together. She tried not to think too hard about holding his warm hand in hers, Neville doing the same on Harry's other side. She hoped that her hand wasn't sweating too much.
Harry opened his brilliant green eyes and began to speak, his voice low but confident.
"Magic is far more than the effect that most witches and wizards perceive. Magic is not the outcome of a spell or enchantment, nor is it the energy source that powers it. It is not wand movements or runes or specific sets of vibrations in the air. Magic simply is. It is an intrinsic part of reality the same way that strong and weak nuclear forces are. It is in everything because it is everything. Underneath what most people perceive is the truth of reality. We are not flesh and blood and bone, and the world around us is not wood and water and air. When you look deep enough, there is nothing. Reality is an empty void, with nothing but Magic and forces pushing against each other. If we had the ability to perceive the truth of things rather than just photons striking the correct particles and vibrations moving the right atoms, we would be surrounded by endless, peaceful Dark. And Magic."
Hermione stared, enraptured as her best friend's voice swelled, filling the clearing as his eyes began to glow and she felt the air grow heavy and hot with his power.
"Magic is the Truth of things. You can think of it as a soul, an identity, but it is both more and less than that. It is a fundamental part of all things, a property rather than a force. Witches and wizards are able to sense and interact with this property of things, both through their own Magic and the Magic of the world around them. Most do so with the help of a wand, but the wand is just a means to an end. It pulls and shapes a mage's magic without requiring them to truly understand or perceive it. The wand is a shortcut that has resulted in generations of mages that do not understand Magic's true nature."
Harry's eyes shone with brilliant green light now, his scar also shedding emerald light and his messy, shoulder-length hair rippling in an invisible wind despite the air in the clearing being thick and still. Hermione felt the same glorious sense of safety, of calm and warmth and home that she always felt when he let his magic free like this. Her heartbeat pounded in her ears as the atmosphere in the clearing snapped and crackled with sparks of green power and she caught a faint whiff of burning ozone. She unconsciously gripped his hand tighter.
"Souls are real. A person is far more than a brain within a skull. A witch or wizard is far more than their prison, their vehicle of flesh. With the ability to perceive and manipulate Magic, what we truly accomplish is nothing less than touching the Soul of reality. This is what I will try to teach you. I do not know if I will succeed. I do not know if my ability to understand the truth can be taught without my circumstances or years of practice and study. The only other mages that I have sensed that understand Magic like this are Dumbledore and Quirrell. To begin, I will attempt to awaken your minds to the truth by infusing your body and soul with my magic, hopefully drawing your own sparks of power out of the dark as mine has. Together, we will go down a rabbit hole of which I cannot know the bottom."
The air continued to warp and twist further and everything outside the clearing appeared distant, a heat haze surrounding them as the dust and debris in the air hung still and silent. She could hear Neville's quick, gasping breaths from across the clearing and realized that she was also breathing heavily, while Harry sat perfectly still except for gentle, smooth breaths while he spoke. His words rippled through the clearing, rebounding and echoing with power.
"Let us begin."
...
Harry leaned his head back against the tree and basked in the May sunshine. Exams were finally over, and he could relax without Hermione stressing or Neville worrying. Unlike the others, he wasn't looking forward to the end of term. He had become comfortable with his routine at Hogwarts and didn't want to return to the outside world of monsters and restrictions. He really wasn't sure what the ministry would classify as "underage magic", so he would have to be careful outside of the school grounds.
Hermione and Neville leaned against the tree on either side of him. They had done well and worked hard at understanding the lessons that he tried to teach them, even if neither of them could feel their magic the way that he could yet. Harry hoped that it was just a matter of time and practice, and he hoped that he was correct that being able to perceive and feel one's magic was the first step to wielding it directly as he did. He still wasn't sure what made him different from most witches and wizards, what about him caused his magic to awaken when he was about to be eaten by that first monster, back on his first day of school.
He shook off the melancholy and focused on enjoying the warm afternoon. He leaned sideways slightly and let his shoulder touch Hermione's as she read, the end of exams certainly not enough incentive to stop her from continuing to learn. He smiled as she leaned into him, and he let his magic sing quietly to her as they relaxed. He was going to miss her terribly over the summer. The two weeks at Christmas had felt like a long time.
Harry was just forcing himself not to slip back into his brooding when he shot upright. His scar burned, and more than that he got a distinct feeling of power and anticipation. He was going to do it. He was finally going to get a hold of the stone after months of impotent boredom riding around in the back of this incompetent meatsack's head and-
Harry stumbled and fell to his knees.
What the hell was that? He thought, breathing heavily and trying to force himself to focus.
"Harry? What's wrong? What's going on?" Hermione's voice pierced through his racing thoughts.
"Quirrell. Stone. Now." He grunted. Forcing himself to stand and finding Neville and Hermione also standing in front of him.
"He's going for the stone, but something's not right. It's not Quirrell, its-"
The pain exploded behind his scar once again and he groaned, almost falling over and only remaining upright when Hermione caught him.
"Harry!" She yelled. "Stay with us. We need to go to Dumbledore."
Harry didn't disagree and let her lead him up to the castle while he pushed back on the pain and tried to get a sense for what he was feeling through his scar.
Harry lost track of time for a moment before he refocused, recognizing the inside of McGonagall's office.
"-afraid the headmaster isn't here right now, he had urgent business at the ministry. Now I understand that you are concerned, and I don't know how you know about the stone, but I can assure you that it's perfectly safe-"
"Please Professor!" Hermione yelled, sounding angry and frustrated and desperate. "There's more to it than that. Quirrell is evil! He killed unicorns! Dumbledore is setting some kind of trap for him with the stone as bait, but something is going to go wrong. I don't know what is going on with Harry, but it's related somehow. You have to get him back here right-"
"Miss Granger, I am aware of Mr. Potter's unusual circumstances but at this time there is no need to panic. We will verify that the stone's protections remain in place, but it is not something that you need to be involved with-"
Harry pulled himself upright just as a brilliant silver phoenix flew through a wall and came to a stop next to Professor McGonagall. Before anyone could react, it spoke in Dumbledore's voice.
"Minerva, the protections surrounding the Philosopher's Stone have been breached. Please report to the third-floor corridor and guard the entrance to the protections. Do not allow anyone in or out. Do not enter the corridor. I will arrive shortly.
Everyone in the room remained frozen as the phoenix faded from view. Harry straightened and gently pulled himself free of Hermione's arms.
"I have to go." He said quietly to her.
"Mr. Potter-"
"You will come back to me Harry Potter, or I will find your stupid cloak and figure out how to get Death to cough you back up like a hairball, DO YOU UNDERSTAND?"
Harry laughed and a wide smile grew on his pale face as he stared into her brilliant golden eyes, narrowed but also shining with unshed tears.
"Yes ma'am!" He said with a mock solute.
With an explosion of green magic, he disappeared.
...
Harry rocketed through the school, invisible and intangible as he leapt through stone walls and floors with reckless speed. He let the Dark of the cloak sing as his magic guided him, flickering between reality and the Dark as he pushed off of ceilings and leapt over staircase railings as he raced towards the third floor. He let his magic free, permeating and echoing through the castle corridors as he got unerringly closer to his destination.
He threw open the door into the room where he found Fluffy, not sure what to expect this time. He certainly wasn't expecting-
Was that a harp?
Regardless, the beast was asleep and the trapdoor beneath it was open. Harry wasted no time diving through it.
He landed on a bed of plants that reeked of danger and malice to his magical senses. He faded into the Dark and fell through the vines even as they tried to clutch at him.
He arrived in a tall, vaulted room filled with flying keys. He sprinted towards the far door and faded into the Dark as he dove through it.
He sprinted past a powerfully magical chess set, jumping into the Dark to bypass both the magical wards and the swinging blades of the chess pieces.
He held his breath as he ran past the body of another troll.
He reinforced his body with his power and ran through the enchanted flames, ignoring the potions.
He skidded to a halt as he entered what he assumed was the final room. As he passed through the magical barriers at the door, he was finally able to sense the room's inhabitant. Quirrell stood in the center of the room, tall and confident in a way he never allowed the rest of the school to see. He wore no turban, and the back of his smooth bald head was visible as he peered into-
The Mirror.
Harry froze at the sight of the artifact, unable to help himself as he looked into it. Instead of the cursed vision of his winged form, he met Quirrell's eyes in the reflection. The man's eyes glowed blood red with evil malice and his face broke into a sadistic smile.
"You're late for the party, Harry Potter."
Harry's scar burned and he suddenly knew who he was speaking to.
"Voldemort."
"Indeed." The man turned, facing Harry. His crimson eyes glittered with interest as he stared through Harry. "You have my attention, Harry Potter. So young, yet so powerful. It is only right that my prophesied vanquisher be great in his own right."
Harry tried to contain his fear and anger to think through the Dark Lord's words. "What do you mean, prophesied vanquisher?" He said, keeping a level tone.
Voldemort's grin widened. "The old man hasn't told you. Isn't that just... delicious. Dumbledore is playing games with you, Harry Potter. Please allow me to champion the Truth where he will not." Voldemort started to circle casually, and Harry matched him step for step. "Before you were born, I was made aware of a True Prophecy that spoke of my downfall. It spoke of a child that would have the power to vanquish me. I set out to remove this threat and found… you."
Harry narrowed his eyes and kept a firm grip on his magic, but he let the Dark Lord continue.
"Unfortunately, I made a terrible mistake. I was under the impression that the ritual sacrifice of a prophesied child would be sufficient to accomplish my goals. I was wrong. As a consequence, my soul was ripped from my body, and you survived with that Mark on your forehead. If not for the extent of my power I would have perished, but I cannot be destroyed by something as trivial as the destruction of my body."
Harry tensed at the memory of the endless sea of Dark and Voldemort's eyes shone with ruby light as the air became thick with magic between the two of them.
"You know of what I speak, Harry Potter. You have tasted Death and yet here you stand. I was but the meanest ghost, able to perceive the world only through the senses of others. But still, I lived. I clawed my way back here, recruiting and possessing Quirinus when he crossed my path. He kept our body from failing by drinking unicorn's blood, allowing me to observe and ponder both you and the stone this year."
Voldemort stopped smiling and stared at Harry with a frightening intensity. The magic in the room peaked, the smell of burning ozone growing stronger as green and crimson sparks jumped through the air around the pair.
"You are powerful and unique, Harry Potter. But only with my knowledge will you survive. I know what hunts you, and I know why. Together, we can overcome the demons and claim their power for ourselves. Without me, you will one day fade into the Dark without your precious answers. You will never earn your wings." Voldemort's eyes flooded with bloody light as he finished, his twisted power bearing down on Harry's with enormous strength. For a moment, Harry saw the future as Voldemort did. The Dark Lord and himself, aloft on black and crimson wings, the world burning beneath them as they claimed their rightful divinity.
Harry pushed back, wrenching his power to the surface and escalating in kind, his eyes and mark blazing with green light as he matched the Dark Lord's power, his magic clashing wildly with Voldemort's. He gritted his teeth and focused on the instinctive wrongness of the vision in the mirror, no matter how tempting. He focused on Hermione's smiling face and knew that he could not abide a future where she did not fly with him.
"I will end you. And then I will earn my wings for myself," Harry hissed, clenching his fists and preparing for the toughest enemy he would ever face.
Voldemort smiled again, wide and sadistic.
"So be it."
...
Harry channeled more magic than ever before. He forced it into his body and the air and stone around him, holding back Voldemort's own oppressive power by inches as he moved. Time slowed to a crawl around him as the dust motes hung frozen in the heavy air. He moved faster than should be possible, faster than normal eyes could perceive and yet-
Voldemort's eyes tracked him, the wizard's body already moving even to Harry's enhanced perception. The Dark Lord threw himself sideways as Harry launched an impossibly powerful blast of emerald magic right where he previously stood. Even as Harry charged, Voldemort floated backwards with casual grace, raising his wand to fire a rapid barrage of crimson light at Harry. He tried to weave through it, but even at his top speed several of the magical bolts struck him, shearing and gouging portions of his flesh and bones from his body as he felt himself disintegrate under the onslaught of pure magic.
Harry made it into range and swung his fist towards the Dark Lord, imbuing it with as much power as he could. His hand crackled with emerald magic, his blood burning and singing with the strength of his will and-
Voldemort reached up and caught his wrist.
Harry immediately called on the Dark and phased through the impossibly powerful wizard, stumbling through him and skidding to a stop on the other side. He spun and leapt backwards as the bloody barrage of magic continued, trying to increase his speed as he called more and more magic to him, phasing in and out of the Dark to avoid the majority of the crimson blasts as he tried to find an angle to fight the Dark Lord. He closed the distance between them again, feinting at another punch but fading into the Dark as Voldemort moved to block him. He returned to tangibility and reached towards the wizard's chest, plunging his hand through the Dark Lord's ribs with an explosion of gore frozen around them at their enhanced speed. He tried to close his fist around the monster's heart.
Voldemort's hand closed around his arm in a vice grip, and he pulled Harry closer until they were face to face, the Dark Lord's blazing red eyes inches away from Harry's own. Harry felt Voldemort's voice in his soul.
"You cannot win, Harry Potter."
Even as Harry's hand closed around his heart, the Dark Lord spoke the words.
"Avada Kedavra."
Harry's soul was torn from his body. He felt himself slipping away, felt the Dark calling to him as he watched his body crumple and-
No.
He would not go quietly into the Dark.
He and he alone would decide when his voice and his magic went silent.
"You will come back to me, Harry Potter."
He pulled mightily on the power of the cloak, anchoring his Soul in his magic and reeling himself back to his body.
Death would not find him today.
...
Harry returned to physical awareness just as Voldemort threw his limp body away across the room. He channeled his magic back into his dying flesh and gasped as his heart restarted, thundering in his chest after its brief respite. He called to his power and once again infused his body, flipping and landing in a crouch as the hole in the Dark Lord's chest healed.
Voldemort looked up with surprise, but a wide grin quickly split his face and he threw back his head with a mad laugh.
"You are a marvel, Harry Potter! I truly could not ask for more from my Enemy. Yes, my Nemesis, rise above such mundane concerns as destined Death, join me atop the pinnacle of Heaven!" Voldemort's cackling rose to a fever pitch as he screamed, "FIGHT ME, HARRY POTTER! BRING TO ME THE END THAT WAS FORETOLD!"
Harry was disturbingly reminded of his own words to Malfoy, feeling sick at the comparison as he clenched his fists and readied himself once again.
Before either of them could move, a great gong sounded, and the Mirror awoke. Its magic exploded forth and bound both Harry and Voldemort in gold and silver chains, pulling them both to their knees. Harry panicked as he tried to push against it, but the chains seemed to drag his magic away from him. He couldn't feel the cloak, couldn't feel his power, couldn't feel anything but burning cold as the Mirror drank in all that he was.
He pried his eyes open and saw that Voldemort was in a similar condition on the other side of the room.
"I have invoked the true purpose of the Mirror of Erised, Tom. You will not escape me this time."
Dumbledore's voice echoed through the chamber as the ancient wizard strode into the room. For a moment he looked coldly satisfied before he caught sight of Harry, also caught in the brilliant chains. His wizened blue eyes widened, and his mouth gaped at the sight of Harry's broken form. Harry stared back in confusion as his magic and life drained away.
Voldemort started to laugh again, but now it sounded weak and hollow. "You think that you're so clever, Dumbledore. Look upon your prophesied champion and see what you have wrought. I am not the only one who has looked through the Mirror. I am not the only one who has touched the Astral Plane. Will you truly allow my Soul to be ended at the cost of Harry Potter's? Will you condemn your golden child to the infinite Dark in order to be rid of me? You must choose quickly, old man, or we will Fade together!"
Dumbledore's expression was torn and horrified, twisted with more pain and sadness than Harry had ever seen on the ancient wizard's face. For a moment, he looked like only a tired old man rather than the towering soul of power and flame.
He closed his eyes and raised his hand, a gnarled and knotted wand in his fist. With a single decisive wave, the chains dissolved. Harry slumped forward onto the ground, his vision darkening as his body failed to heal without his magic. Before he could slip away into a mindless void, he heard Voldemort's hissing voice in his ear.
"Farewell, my Nemesis."
From his vantage point on the cold stone, he caught one last glimpse of a black spirit leaving Quirrell's body, the flesh and bone burning and dissolving as Voldemort's soul departed.
Everything went black.
Notes:
And that's the end of our first confrontation with Voldemort! Also a bit of background on the nature of magic. Dramatic Harry is dramatic. I hope that I did Voldemort justice in this escalated world. I hope that Dumbledore's trap makes sense. As always, feedback and criticism is appreciated. Don't let the Mirror eat your soul. I don't own Harry Potter. Toodles!
