Cloudy Mirrors

Cloudy Mirrors

The past year had changed Harry, not dramatically, but anyone that was close enough to him would notice it. He was quieter, he would stare off into nothing when he thought no one was looking, and his personality had been toned down. And after everything that happened to him, Harry longed to see his parents again. Even more than usual. There was always this void that was there inside him, but he could deal with it. Lately, though, it seemed as if this void had evolved into a black hole. The pictures that Hagrid had gotten him his first year were usually enough to calm his nerves and ease his mind....but now they just weren't cutting it. He needed to see his parents, really see them-he needed the Mirror of Erised.

Seeing his mom and dad during his duel with Voldemort last year had nearly broken Harry. Afterwards, Sirius had promised that he'd take him to see his parents graves, to maybe help him get the closure that he needed. But it only upset Harry more. He'd never...never seen his parents like he did that night. It un-nerved him so much that he shook just to think about it. And nobody seemed to understand. Oh, everyone pretended that they could relate with what he was going through...but they couldn't. Ron and Hermione had both of their parents...and Sirius? He never even got to see his own Godfather.

Over the summer, Uncle Vernon had finally snapped and threatened to shoot any "stray birds" that he saw flying around the house-thus, forcing Harry to send letters to his friends and Sirius to not write him for the sake of keeping the owl population up in numbers. Harry thought he'd die of the emotional torment over the summer. His only umbrella against the rain was the knowledge that it would all be over soon and that the first of September was drawing nearer.

As he passed through the barrier on the first day back, his friends had treated him with tentative smiles and cautious words. But soon, they all relaxed and their natural friendship fell back into place. It was easy to just be with Ron and Hermione when they weren't discussing the dismal events of Harry's past. They laughed, joked, and talked about their summers the entire ride to Hogwarts. The sorting was as entertaining as ever, and they had eight new Gryffindors to be proud of. The rest of the boys in Harry's dorm had fallen asleep almost immediately. Of course, they didn't have thoughts of dead parents to haunt their dreams. But Harry wasn't complaining, the sooner they all slept, the sooner he could search for the Mirror.

Harry grabbed his invisibility cloak and the Marauder's Map, and quietly crept out of the dorm room, and out through the portrait hole. After checking the map, he started down the darkened corridor. He had, or course, no idea where the Mirror was now located, he hadn't encountered it in four years. He wasn't even sure if it was still within the walls of Hogwarts, but he had to try. His plan of action was to go down to the kitchens and speak to the house elves. They cleaned all of Hogwarts, so one of them had to have come across a large mirror somewhere along the line, right?

Harry was about halfway to the kitchens when he stubbed his toe on a large suit of armor. It started to throb as he let out a long stream of curses and hopped up and down on his uninjured foot. After the pain in his foot had subsided to a dull ache, and he'd cursed every God in existence, Harry turned the corner and collided head-on with Filch.

"Who's there?! Who's out of bed at this hour?!" Filch bellowed as Harry bolted past him and sprinted down the corridor. Harry ran until he thought his lungs would explode, when he couldn't hear Filch screaming at the top of his voice anymore, he finally stopped. Lacking the energy to check the Marauder's Map, Harry stumbled into a room directly across from him, of which the door was ajar. Once inside, he shut the door behind him and looked around. He was standing inside of an old Transfiguration classroom, the desks and chairs all stacked at the sides of the room. But Harry didn't notice any of this, the one thing that had caught his attention was at the center of the room. The majestic mirror stood out in the old classroom like a rose among a garden of weeds. Standing almost to the ceiling, the Mirror looked every bit the same in every detail as it had the last time Harry had seen it.

Without hesitation, Harry dropped the cloak and map to the floor and strode up to the mirror. He placed himself directly in front of it and with eager anticipation, looked into it for his parents. Within seconds they appeared....and Harry nearly screamed at the sight of them. They weren't the same young, smiling couple that he recalled, but horribly disfigured. His parents were covered in scars and stitches. Their clothes were ripped and they were nearly completely covered in blood. For the first time, the Potters looked as if they were truly dead.

"Mom? Dad?" Harry choked as he reached forward toward the mirror-toward his parents. His fingers touched the glass...and slid right through. Harry was caught off guard; he completely lost his balance and fell right through the mirror.

Harry heard a loud crash, saw a flicker of lights, then fell facedown onto the concrete floor. Moaning at his misfortune, and wondering what the hell had just happened, Harry rose slowly to his feet, and found himself to be at the wandpoint of Draco Malfoy.