Disclaimer and a quick `Thank you': Harry Potter is the copyrighted creation of one J.K. Rowling. I wish to thank her for allowing us `fans' to explore and expound upon the wonderful world she has created for us… She truly is `The brightest witch of our age.'
Harry Potter: Year Six
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Chapter 1
Mirror Mirror
He found it very difficult to sleep. Tossing and turning to the point that he was soaked through from sweat. Nights had been this way for him ever since the incident at the Ministry of Magic. He was flooded with images and feelings that he knew he was no shape to deal with. All he really knew for certain was that the fates had always seemed to be against him. His life was always so hard and unfair. He had long suspected, and now knew for certain, that it was destined to be this way. He was incredibly frustrated and realized that sleep would not come until he cleared his mind. He sat up on the edge of his bed and began to rub his temples in earnest.
"That is a funny thought." He mused out loud, no trace of a smile on his face.
He couldn't quite believe it, but it seemed so long ago when that idiot of a Professor pushed him beyond his means to master even the simplest forms of Occlumancy. He was having a very difficult time of it. Since that fateful night at the Ministry he had been flooded with a wealth of emotion… fear, frustration, anger, loss and… hatred… Ohhhh yes… Hatred like he had never felt before. It had shaken him to the core.
Exactly how did I get to this point? He thought. . He lay back down onto his bed and closed his eyes, focusing on the energies around him. OK, relax and breathe. Concentrate on the feeling of the air flowing in and out of your lungs. Energy began to permeate around him. It seemed to gather to him and cocoon him to the point where he was completely relaxed and in an almost hypnotic like state.
There it was again! He could feel it now rising from the depths of his very being. Soon the images came to him from his past like an unforgivable curse, unblock-able and unrelenting in its force. It hit him right in what was left of his heart and it fazed him if only for a second. Images and sounds now began to come clearly to him…
There, in the middle of a sunlit room sat a crib. A baby boy of nineteen months with sparse black hair was crying hysterically as if calling for help, begging to be picked up and held. Begging for his mum or dad to come for him and comfort him, but no one came. He cried a little while longer until sleep claimed him and the tears dried little white lines on his soft face. By the time he was two he had learned to stop crying all together… He had learned that no one would come…
A swirl of images and sounds again flooded his minds eye. Then... limping in the middle of a hallway grasping his bleeding leg with both hands was a small boy. He couldn't have been more than six years old and he wore clothes that obviously were meant for a larger child. He had messy black hair and a pained expression on his face. He knew the instant the bigger boys friends had knocked him down outside that he had seriously injured his leg.
He struggled to hold back the tears of pain as a tall slender woman with a slightly nasal voice began yelling at him.
"What have you done to yourself now!?" she scolded. "Can't you stay out of trouble for five minutes?"
"What has the little brat done to himself this time?" came a mans voice. "I am not spending another pound on that boy's medical expense! Does he think we are made of money?!"
"But it wasn't my fault!" yelled the boy, "I was playing by myself when…"
"Don't you dare talk to me like that you little liar!" the woman spat, "You are lucky we allow you to stay here at all…"
Another violent swirl of images and sounds… The same boy, now about eight, was walking amongst the sneers and sniggers of several elementary school students. They routinely laughed at his messy appearance, the over sized clothes and the school bag that had definitely seen better days, and now the soles of his shoes were beginning to peel off and made clapping noises with every step. The lunch break was over and he was doing his best to ignore the taunts as he hurried to make it back to class before the gang saw him.
"Hey weirdo!" yelled a boy who was crisply dressed and easily stood a foot taller. "Going to do any more maaagiiiiic today?" to the raucous cackling of his two friends which echoed in the student hallways made of brick.
He had hoped that they would eventually tire of bullying him and move on to other things as this same scene had occurred on a weekly basis since his schooling began. It seemed as though if it weren't this group it would always be another. There seemed to be no shortage of people who would treat him badly because he was different and in this instant he would be reminded of just how so.
"Why are you in such a hurry freak?!" the leader spat as he quickly ran in front of him, his two cronies positioning themselves behind him to cut off any means of escape.
"Didn't you like the mud bath we gave you last time? Just thought we'd help you look better since your parents can't afford to dress you properly… oh, that's riiiight, you don't have parents." The bully sneered while again his friends laughed.
"Look, just let me get back to class OK? Please… j-just leave me alone." He begged.
"Nah, I think I'll just kick your arse a bit…" The bully said simply and promptly placed him in a head-lock.
The cronies began to hoot and holler wildly. He was really starting to get worried. He knew no help would come as it never did, and now he was starting to have trouble breathing. He was really starting to panic, and he began struggling much to the bully's amusement until he suddenly and instantly found himself in the principals' office standing on his desk.
"What the... how did I?" He began…
But he had no idea how he had suddenly found himself there and had little time to dwell as at that same moment the Principal walked in. Upon seeing him dirtying all his important papers with his shoes, gave him several whacks with a paddle and detention for a week.
More flashes of sights and sounds found the boy, now ten and still wearing clothes that were three sizes too big, at the Zoo. He was always fascinated by animals and was feeling particularly lucky to be visiting. He had never really seen them before, except for school books of course. He knew that there were programs on the tele about them but he was never allowed to watch anything on it.
At this moment he was leaning against the rail in front of the glass cages in the reptile house. There was one animal that really caught his fancy and he was staring avidly at it. Every one else he noticed would just stroll by, glance at it and then mumble how boring it was or that it didn't move, some even rapped on the glass before quickly walking away. But not him, he thought snakes were brilliant, especially poisonous ones and this one in particular really stood out to him. It was large, sleek, dark and beautiful and it pained him to see it caged and gawked at. He truly felt that he could relate as he did not like captivity either and he rather thought that this one really should be free. He had the funny inspiration of expressing this to the snake, so he said:
"They should know what it's like to feel trapped-helpless, bothered day after day, never leaving you alone, never allowing you to just be at peace…" and then much to his astonishment the snake lifted its head and nodded as if to agree.
"You - you can understand me?" he whispered, shocked greater still to hear an answer.
"Yessss" replied the serpent.
Several things happened at once and he wasn't quite sure what happened in what order. Suddenly the huge viper was swiftly slithering on the walkway as people began screaming in terror. How had he gotten out of his cage? Did I do that? He wondered as he suddenly found himself on the ground. No-one was paying him much attention and he was almost trampled but the serpent aggressively began to hiss and snap at anyone who came too near.
Something even more surprising happened to the boy as he began rising. He suddenly stopped to find that the giant snake had reared its head to look him straight in the eye. If a snake could smile, this one was definitely doing it and for the first time in a great while, the boy grinned in return.
Swirls of images and sounds faded once again into another time and place…A young man with untidy black hair and piercing eyes sat deep in thought in his four poster bed as he loosened the tie of his Hogwarts school uniform. He couldn't quite believe that the Chamber of Secrets had been opened and he feared that even his closest friends suspected him. He had just recently discovered that he was a parselmouth; he had no idea that it was quite a unique gift indeed. He was replaying the conversation he had just had with the Headmaster. Would they really close down the school? He knew he did NOT want to return to the home where the muggles constantly mistreated him and acted as if he were a slave only tolerated to do their bidding. He had asked the Headmaster before if he could remain at Hogwarts during the summer holidays but he had insisted that he return home at the end of every school year.
Besides, ever since he had discovered the wizarding world it had become HIS world. How could he leave it all behind? Moreover, there were quite a few witches and wizards who thought he had the potential to become greater than the Dark Lord and even on day defeat him. But he was under the strong impression, as was the great majority of the wizarding world, that it would be Dumbledore himself to do it. Coming to a decision, he rose to leave the dormitory.
"I must solve this… there is no way I'm going back THERE sooner than I have to if there is anything I can do about it!" He stated emphatically.
This image soon faded as the boy left the room… and was replaced with the recent image of Dumbledore and the battle at the Ministry. Dumbledore… the prophecy… Such an incredible wave of absolute hatred coursed through his body so forcefully that he virtually flew off the bed. He now stood in the middle of the poorly lit room as magic gathered and surrounded him until it became so thick that it crackled with intensity like thick bolts of green-grey electricity. He could feel himself becoming more and more powerful as the hatred swelled and flowed through him, the magic reaching out and physically touching his surroundings so much so that the bed that he was sleeping on and the night stand next to it disintegrated.
A satisfied grin stretched his pale face… and at that moment in a small bedroom several cities away - the boy who lived awoke with a start.
A/N: I haven't written anything significant since 1989 so I'm a bit out of practice, but I hope you will enjoy my version of the Harry Potter saga. I have tried to write this story following a logical progression of the events that have occurred in the first five installments. So naturally what I am writing is what I believe will take place in book six or seven to some extent and I have done my best to keep all of the characters IN character. That being said, I write in a style that is not pre-meditated, meaning that I throw the characters into a situation and then let them work it out on their own. Maybe you'll see what I mean as this story progresses… I will try to post a new chapter every other week or so.
On to explanations:
We know from the books that Tom Riddle was abandoned before he was born and he grew up in an orphanage, thus the lack of love, money and proper fitting clothes. For those reasons alone he would have been ostracized as Harry was at those same ages and notice that I never fully described his care takers or bullies, they were meant to seem like the Dursley's.
I also imagine that he would have learned that he was a parselmouth at the zoo much like Harry did. Where else would he have discovered that he could talk to snakes?
The `Dark Lord' reference is none other than Grindelwald, whom Dumbledore defeated in 1945, so he would still have been alive and creating havoc in 1942 when Tom Riddle had opened the Chamber of Secrets. Remember, by no means did I actually named the Headmaster of Hogwarts in Tom's memory (It was Armando Dippet at that time) and I spoke of Dumbledore separately.
Tom learned Occlumency from somebody right? Why not a professor he didn't like either?
I believe that Rowling has purposefully made Tom and Harry VERY similar because the key to how these two turn out is choice. I think she has made it quite clear that it is the choices we make and not our birth-rights that define who we are and will become. I tried to writing the first chapter to illustrate that point, hopefully I succeeded.
To be continued…
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