Chapter 13

Voldemort lay awake in the middle of the night while Quirrell was fast asleep. His consciousness didn't even stir, but Voldemort could not be lulled to sleep, which was making him more irritable than normal.

The damn stone that Potter gave him was bugging him so much. At random moments, the magic would reach out and almost caress him like some sort of –

No matter how he tried to throw it away, the damn stone was acting like some sort of homing device that kept coming for him.

He would have blasted it to pieces, but it was even immune to that.

Potter's magic yet again reached out to tease him when he was about to drop to sleep, causing him to snarl as he took over the body and sat upright.

It had only been a day since that devil's spawn had given him the stone, but he couldn't get rid of it no matter what.

Irritated beyond belief, Voldemort put on the robe hanging by the door and stalked outside.

Perhaps the cool night air would allow him to calm down, and the potency of the magic would fade a bit.

Today was Yule, and even Voldemort was a little more forgiving on this day, but because of Potter's stone, his mood was worse than ever.

He stalked down the hallways of the castle and drew a little comfort from his home that wasn't a home.

Hogwarts…

But of course, like fate was playing a trick on him, while he passed by one of the rooms, he felt the familiar magic – magic that he didn't want to be familiar with at all – even the damn stone that he couldn't get rid of reached out to him.

Instantly, Voldemort's brows furrowed, but let it be said that Voldemort never ran away from anything.

Thinking about it, what could the child do to him? He was the great Lord Voldemort. He would not be bested by a child!

So, Lord Voldemort spied on the child that was standing inside the room.

His eyes lit up.

The Mirror of Erised!

Unknowingly, the man's lips curled up. Very good.

Perhaps the devil spawn would rot away in front of the mirror before long. No one would ever find his body.

And Quirrell had obviously never seen the brat, which meant that he could get away scot free.

Slowly, without making any other sounds, Voldemort backed away.

Yet, alarmingly, the child immediately turned around the moment he was about to make a clean escape.

He didn't seem as if he was enraptured by the mirror at all, which was a direct contradiction to whatever Voldemort knew about the mirror.

Harry took quick steps forward and grabbed the sleeve of his robe.

Voldemort glared at Harry. "Let go, you insolent child."

Harry's lips curled up into a polite smile, and his eyes were positively dangerous. "You're the one who came to me," he said sweetly. If it wasn't for the dark light in his eyes, Voldemort would almost have been fooled.

"I did not come to you."

"Then, how did you find me in this very large, magical castle?"

"I just walked around wherever my feet took me."

Harry raised a brow, and it was filled with so much disdain that Voldemort instantly felt his temper rising.

"Really. You have a stone on you that reeks of my magic, and you really believe that?"

Now, Harry's face took on a slightly mocking tone, and it made Voldemort feel like his blood pressure was rising just by being in his presence.

Voldemort reflexively raised his wand, ready to hex the brat into oblivion, but Harry seemed to know what he was thinking, smirking at him.

"You can't win in a battle of words, so you're resorting to violence?"

Screw it. Voldemort very much wanted to get physical with him right now and wring that scrawny neck of his.

Surely if he did it now, this giant pain in the ass would no longer be able to get in his way all the time. The prophecy would end right now, and he would be free.

Dumbledore would try his best to track him down, of that he had no doubt, but if Voldemort killed him here and now and then instantly fled, the man would still take some time before he realized that Harry was dead.

It was the day of Yule, and the brat's invisibility cloak �� that had obviously been 'gifted' by Dumbledore, fucked with the man's various devices that tracked the boy's life.

It would be a waste of an invisibility cloak, but if he wrapped the body with it while the body cooled, the old man wouldn't realize until it was too late.

Voldemort's eyes flashed with murderous light.

Harry smiled prettily, and his eyes went half-lidded.

Voldemort's pupils immediately blew wide as he felt the brat's tantalizing magic mix with his again, almost sending him to his knees.

The Dark Lord grit his teeth in annoyance as he fought off the weak feelings that were inspired in him. He couldn't control his body properly, and for all that he was fighting back the sick pleasure, he couldn't fight off Harry's hands as the tiny first year dragged him towards the mirror.

By the time he realized what was happening, his eyes only had time to widen, and he was already staring at the mirror.

Harry peered at the Dark Lord, feeling morbidly curious.

What would the Dark Lord see in the Mirror of Erised? Would he see countless bodies, would he see the death of his arch-nemesis? Would he see Harry's cooling corpse at his feet, or the world trembling under his fingertips?

Harry was so very curious.

What would the Dark Lord see in the mirror?

It was too bad that he could not see it first-hand, so he had to make do with asking the man.

"What do you see?" Harry asked, keeping his voice low.

"I see…" the man trailed off, his voice not at all there. It was like he was speaking subconsciously.

"I see…"

Harry waited with growing impatience, before he was suddenly alerted by Hogwarts that Dumbledore was making his way to this room.

Harry clicked his tongue, but not before he brushed chilled fingers over the stone that was in Voldemort's robe pocket.

The stone hummed under his fingertips, like it was welcoming him.

With a smirk, Harry withdrew his hands again, leaving the entranced man in front of the mirror.

He gently shut the door behind him and made his way back to his dorm room leisurely.

-

Dumbledore quickly made his way to the room that held the Mirror of Erised, his heart burning with anticipation.

The young boy should have made his way here already. Being a curious boy, he would no doubt take the cloak out for a spin the moment he received it.

If Dumbledore knew anything, it was innocent teens and preteens like the back of his hand. Manipulating them was as simple as the wave of a wand.

Today would be the day that he found out Harry's deepest desires. If he knew a person's desires, he would be that much easier to control.

However, much to his disbelief, instead of finding Harry standing before the mirror, when he cracked the door open, all he found was Professor Quirrell standing before the mirror, looking entranced.

Dumbledore cleared his throat. "Ahem."

The suspicious professor – whom Dumbledore suspected was one of Voldemort's minions – snapped out of it abruptly upon hearing his voice.

Still facing the mirror, Voldemort's face warped viciously a few times before he reigned himself back in, pasting on Quirrell's usual cowardly look.

"A-ah… H-h-headmaster…"

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled grandfatherly, looking at Quirrell fondly. "I think it's time for you to go to sleep, young man."

As he said that, he walked forward and pulled back the covers over the mirror, covering it from view.

If he got himself caught in the trap again…

As Quirrell left quickly, Dumbledore found himself feeling a bit disheartened.

The boy… had he been here? Or had he not?

He was confused.