Chapter Text
The boy was tired.
Tired of this "Master of Death" bullshit. Tired of the lives he's forced to continue over and over again. Tired of false friendships.
Harry Potter didn't want to be the golden boy anymore.
He knows. He knows most things by now. Ronald Weasley's admiration is stronger than friendship. Draco Malfoy makes a surprisingly good friend. Albus too-many-names Dumbledore is a manipulator and an awful human being.
The boy was now on his sixth life. He hasn't died yet in this one and doesn't plan on it. He doesn't want to go through his first eleven years again if he can help it. He's been through so much in his many lives, so much heartache and betrayal. He just doesn't care anymore. He just wants to be happy.
At the moment, he was up in the astronomy tower sporting robes with green and silver accents. Slytherin house. Ironic, isn't it? Those who he fought so desperately against in his first life were the ones who offer comfort in this one.
He suddenly saw a figure sprinting into the woods. Professor Quirrell. Harry sighed. He could understand Voldemort a little bit better after all his lives, but his mind is still so far out of reach.
With a sigh, the boy rests his head on his arms, tilting it to look up at the stars. It's always been nice to be up here. So peaceful and tranquil.
He has friends now too. Draco, Nevil, Susan, Blaise, and many more, but he always felt so much calmer and happier all alone. It felt wrong to keep his distance from those who want to be his friends. Selfish. But what could he do? That's just how he felt.
"What are you doing, Potter?" The said boy blinked and turned slowly to find his house head staring at him with an indistinguishable look. His dark eyes gleamed in the starlight and Harry fought the wince at the thought. That sounded almost romantic. Almost as though… he shooed it from his head.
"Professor" he greeted, taking off his invisibility cloak and letting it fall to his feet. The cold air caressed his hair, ruffling it gently. "I was just looking at the stars. They are visible today."
The potions professor looked at Harry without saying a word, clearly trying to decipher the boy. It felt almost calming, the normalness of it. After a few long minutes, the boy spoke up once more. "I saw someone running to the forbidden forest. I think something bad is going to happen."
"What makes you think that?" The boy smiled slightly, causing Snape's scowl to darken, but Harry was only thinking about how in the boy's previous lives, Snape helped him, saved his life more times than Harry probably even knows.
"Just a feeling sir. Just a feeling." The wind blew against Harry's back, urging the boy forward, for what he didn't understand. He kept still, green eyes glinting and curving in delight at something even he didn't know.
"It's past your curfew," Snape spoke, his deep voice making Harry strain to hear, but luckily he did.
The boy swooped down and grabbed his cloak, the silk-like fabric making the boy shudder under the tall man's gaze as Harry wrapped it around his shoulders.
"Good night, then, professor" Harry spoke deeply, walking past the professor and down the hall, but not before hearing a very faint, "Goodnight" in return.
It was cold out. Mid-winter break, and Harry wandered through the castle shivering slightly. His feet took him to the mirror of Erised. He could feel Professor Dumbledore here, which made him scowl lightly as he walked in front of the mirror.
The sight before harry wasn't what he was expecting.
The sound of footsteps behind me made him spin around in fake surprise. "Professor Dumbledore?"
"What do you see?" The man spoke with curiosity shining in his eyes. All lies you see. He just wants to know if he's still a pawn to be played.
"Just me sir. Am I supposed to see something else?" The boy felt some amusement capturing his eyes, but forced it down, showing only trust and confusion.
Tilting his head, the headmaster's eyes burned into Harry, his old grandfatherly appearance cracking in front of irritation, making Harry's amusement grow.
"And what else do you see?" He blinked at Dumbledore's cautious tone and didn't speak for a while, trying to drag out Harry's answer to make him even more irritated.
"I'm just older, sir. Happy." The headmaster walked closer, silent, annoyed. Harry hadn't passed his test, and for that, the boy was silently pleased.
It wasn't till the end of the year that I was kidnapped by Voldemort. He didn't seem like he would listen to me, and so I kept silent until I was dragged in front of the mirror.
"You didn't need to kidnap me you know?" Complaining, I faced the mirror. "And why do you even need me? I'm nothing extraordinary."
"What do you see?" The man said. I almost laughed aloud at how similar his words were to dumbledores. Instead of speaking aloud my thoughts, I tilted my head and looked at my reflection. He looked at me with a smirk on his lips, hands in his pockets as we stared at one another. He knows something and I'm kinda irritated about it.
"Myself." I glared at the reflection. "He's just staring at me for some weird reason."
Quirrelmort stayed silent as I stared openly at the mirror. I was telling the truth delight what I expected to happen. No stone hidden in my pocket. How odd.
"Step aside." He ordered. Frustration was clear in his voice so I did as told, backstepping and now staring at the man's back as he threw spell after spell at the mirror. Should I help him? That… wouldn't be such a bad idea. After all, I've been living life after life, mistake after mistake, and have never helped the man. What do I have to lose?
"The mirror won't give you what you want to use." I waited for an inevitable backlash, but Quirell simply stopped moving so I hurried to continue. "Only if you don't want to use it will it appear." I paused, wincing. "That's what Dumbledore said."
"Dumbledore" the man hissed angrily and I shivered. Not in fear, for I have no fear of death. But of amazement. His power was practically flowing off of him. He turned to look at me poisonously, his posture stiff as he glared. "And what else did Dumbledore tell you?"
"Not much, a lot of bullshit," I smirked at his slightly surprised expression before continuing. "He doesn't trust me, you see. Nor do I trust him."
"Oh?" He seemed amused at how I worded what I said. Or perhaps what I had said in general. He walked closer. A stalking motion that made me feel . Feel what? I had no clue. "And what did you, Harry Potter, his golden boy, do to deserve the headmaster's distrust?"
"Just being me." I feel exhilarated now. That I knew. His gaze, his amusement, the danger. It always managed to make me full of excitement.
I was brought out of my thoughts as Voldemort snorted… snorted. I feel like I've officially seen everything now.
"In that case, don't let the old man change who you are as I'm very interested in seeing what will you grow up to be," the boy blinked at his response, feeling slightly warm before he realized something.
"Wait… does that mean you'll let me live?" But it was way too late, as the man had already got the stone while I was distracted and left with a soft pop.
Oh no.