I feel so evil for this one guys... 😬

The next several months passed quickly, as the new term started, and the teachers began preparing everyone for their exams.

Harry and Theo often found themselves in Gryffindor tower every other weekend, Theo making bets, while Harry played an assortment of games against the Gryffindors. Percy Weasley would glower at everyone involved in bringing the two Slytherins into the common room, but everyone ignored him.

At first, Hermione worried that they would get in trouble, but after one weekend where Mcgonagall walked in on their exploding jenga tournament, told them all not to keep the first years up past curfew, then went over to speak with Percy as if it was all perfectly normal, Hermione relaxed and cheered Harry on, throwing glares at Theo whenever he made a bet.

Harry was swamped with homework, using every spare moment he had in the library, trying not to throw himself into a panic, as he half ignored Hermione muttering beside him. The classes themselves weren't so bad, the worst were History and Defense. The latter because ever since Christmas, mere proximity to Quirrell would give Harry a headache. As it got closer to the end of the year, Quirrell started looking paler and paler, and the headaches Harry would get, only got worse, until finally, the last exam was over.

Harry was relaxing in the common room, reading his book on quidditch, while the other first years chatted about their summer plans. Theo had gone to ask professor Sinistra a question, despite it being nearly curfew, and Harry was trying to ignore how itchy his arms were. It wasn't the bone deep itch that usually lead to bloodied bandages, instead it was just a surface itch, reminding him he hadn't cut in months, and now his arms were actually healing. The itch was uncomfortable, and more insistent then the bone deep one, but could be abated with a brisk rub. 

One of the chasers from the Colonel Corps, a quidditch team from America, scored a goal, and took a celebratory lap, as Harry stared at the page, not really seeing it. So much had happened this year, somehow, it didn't even feel real. Magic existed. Wizards were real. Harry was one of them! His parents had been as well.

And they had been murdered.

After thinking they had died in a car crash his whole life, Hagrid had told him the truth. A Dark wizard, Lord Voldemort, had killed them. Had tried to kill Harry. Nearly a year later, and it was only now sinking in.

He felt... nothing.

Shouldn't he be scared? Or upset? Or something?

But no. He wasn't scared. He wasn't upset. He wasn't even angry. He had spent his whole life wishing for anyone to take he away from the Dursleys. For his parents to have miraculously survived as well, perhaps unaware they had a son, but that they would remember him, and come take him away.

But they didn't. Couldn't. The fact they had been murdered didn't change that. It didn't change anything.

It was just as that realization hit, when suddenly pain lanced through his scar as never before. It felt as though his head was on fire, and being lanced with a dull blade, all at once. He couldn't stop a cry from leaving his lips, as he doubled over, his book falling to the floor.

Draco was at his side in an instant, the other students who were still awake leaping to their feet, and crowding around the couches. Someone yelled for Professor Snape to be fetched, but Harry barely heard them, barely noticed Draco's hand on his shoulder, as he clutched his forehead, agonized tears rolling down his cheeks. His head felt as if it would split open.

Then everything changed.

Suddenly he was standing in a dark chamber lit by flickering torches. In front of him was a tall mirror Harry recognized, though he didn't know if it had a name, curled in front of the mirror was a small figure dressed in green trimmed robes, trembling and whimpering, hugging himself tightly.

Harry felt angry, angrier then he had ever been. He was so close.

"Look into the mirror boy. Bring me the stone, and you will go free."

Surely this was the answer. It had to be.

Dumbledore was a fool, but he would admit, this time he had managed something unique and almost unbeatable. Almost. He would not be defeated so easily. He would not let that old fool win.

A chillingly familiar voice half sobbed,

"I-I don't kn-know h-h-how."

Theo barely lifted his head, trembling uncontrollably.

Harry felt his lip curl.

"We will have plenty of time for you to learn. Crucio!"

His wand slashed through the air, and Theo screamed, his body rocking back and forth, his hands clutching his head.

"-ter! Harry!"

Suddenly Harry was himself again, laying curled on the common room floor, his hands pulling at his hair, his throat sore from yelling, tears falling freely. Kneeling next to him was Snape.

The crowd of Slytherins had backed away, giving them both space, though they all whispered among themselves, looking at Harry with mixtures of pity, fear and intrigue.

"Harry," Snape's voice was low, so no one would overhear, "what happened? Are you alright?"

Harry shook his head frantically. He didn't matter! Theo was being tortured!

Snape frowned, opening his mouth to speak, but Harry cut him off, his hand snapping out to grip his head of house's arm. He needed him to listen!

"Th-Theo! He-he has Theo! He-! You have-! He's-!"

Harry couldn't get enough breath. He was half sobbing, shaking uncontrollably, and could barely string together the words. But he had to tell Snape.

"Breathe, Harry. Focus on breathing."

Harry shook his head again, gasping for breath, unable to get enough air.

"H-he has-has, Th-theo!" He finally managed choke out.

"He wants him to get something! But he can't! He can't!"

The words were tumbling out now, tripping over themselves to be free of him.

"He's torturing him! Please!"

Snape was staring at him. His face was pale, and he looked like a dragon had just landed in front of him.

"Come with me." He said shortly, hauling Harry up off the floor.

Harry barely even noticed that the entire room had gone silent, as Snape lead him out of the room. Harry was tripping over his own feet, but didn't care, even when Snape had to yank him back so he wouldn't smash his face on the stone floor.

Snape dragged him into his office, and pushed him into a seat. The potions master then swept over to one of his cabinets with barely a glance at Harry. Opening one of the doors, Snape pulled out a small bottle of a soft, amber liquid. Striding back over to Harry, he held out the bottle to him.

"Take a small sip, Harry."

Harry stared at the bottle uncomprehendingly.

Snape sighed softly, and crouched in front of him, still holding out the potion bottle.

"It's a calming drought. It will help settle your nerves. I need you to tell me everything you remember, and you will need this."

Harry took the bottle, his hand shaking slightly, and uncorked it. Snape placed his own hand on Harry's, steadying it as the eleven year old took a small sip.

Harry felt a warm, relaxing feeling slowly spread through him, as the potion slid down his throat. His shaking subsided, and his breaths came easier, as the fear and pain, and the lingering ache in his head faded to the background. He slumped in his seat slightly, and Snape gently removed the bottle from his hand, recorking it before he slid it into his pocket.

"Now, what, exactly, happened?"

Harry found himself explaining everything in an oddly detached way. He knew he should be terrified, or at least unsettled, one of his best friends was being tortured! But he couldn't get worked up about it.

He knew what he should feel. Knew what he had felt. But now it was vague, an afterthought he could barely remember.

When he had finished telling Snape what he had seen, the potions professor told him to stay put, and swept out the door, barely not running. Harry didn't notice the click of the lock after Snape left, he just curled up on the chair, the calming drought muting his emotions.

Eventually his eyes slid closed, and he drifted off into nightmares of Theo thrashing about in agony, while a high, cruel, cold laugh echoed around them both, coming from Harry himself.

After all of that excitement... this feels anticlimactic. 

I know y'all will hate me for this one, but my brain dropped it on the page, and it works... to a degree. I don't know what degree, but it works!

My most royal evilness,

Bakeku67 🐍

Might have to break from posting for awhile, the chapter I'm working on is really being a pain. But don't worry, I get it eventually.