True Memories

In the dim underground chamber, the black-haired, green-eyed boy in the mirror looked pale as some subtle, hidden change took place. When that change crossed a certain threshold, the scarred face suddenly became unfamiliar.

The gloomy, cold man in the mirror was also watching Harry outside it, a faint smile on his lips. It was a gentle, polite smile, yet it made people deeply uncomfortable—sinister and chilling.

Standing before the mirror, Harry could hear his own heart pounding. The sound made the chamber seem even quieter. His right hand at his side quietly curled its little finger. It was a test.

The person in the mirror did not move his finger. Instead, an intrigued look appeared in his eyes as he stared directly at Harry outside the mirror. His green eyes narrowed slightly, turning into vertical slits like those of a venomous snake spotting its prey.

Harry saw his lips move, forming a soft, soft word: "Idiot."

Of course, the mirror made no sound, but Harry heard it anyway. This was not the first time he had heard that voice. He had heard it before, far more often than he had realized.

Memories surged like a tide, pressing every irrelevant sound down to nothing. All that remained was the voice he had just heard, exactly the same as the voice in his memories:

When speaking to snakes in Parselmouth, it had actually been whispering;

When he charged the troll on Halloween in his first year, it had been warning him;

The day he learned Occlumency and peered into Professor Snape's memories, it had helped him control Legilimency;

And when he came into contact with the Dark Arts, when he stood on the platform teaching D.A...

The voices he had never noticed before suddenly became deafening, yet they did not make