Categories > Books > Harry Potter > Chronicles of The Company We Keep
Looking into the Mirror
0 reviewsHarry thinks and reflects while observing himself in the mirror.
1Insightful
DISCLAIMER: See the first installment of this story collection.
A/N: Well, here I am showing another "behind-the-scenes" thing of something from TCWK that does not take place in the main story flow.
Last time, it was about people who have lots of power but really shouldn't be allowed it. This time, it's looking at oneself...
/NOTE: This takes place after chapter 11, "Quiet Christmas."/
/"Looking into the Mirror"/
Inventa/ sunt specula ut homo ipse se nosset./ Mirrors were invented so that man might know himself. -Seneca, Naturales/ Quaestiones/ (1.17.4)
Harry Potter was never one to like looking into the mirror.
He hated seeing his own face after witnessing something horrible, often due to his unique and potentially dangerous connection with Voldemort.
He really had changed in these past few months. His godfather had been murdered, he was grieving, things with the corrupt Ministry of Magic had gotten out of control... and his mutant powers developed.
Before, he was kind of small, with a pale face and those big round glasses that often had tape on them. Now, he stood inches taller, didn't need the glasses (although he still had them, just in case), and had more muscle on him, underneath healthier looking skin.
But behind those emerald green eyes of his... Harry knew that deep down, he was not alright, no matter how hard he tried to hide it, deny it or push it aside.
The face that looked back at him had jet black untidy hair (in contrast to his bright green eyes) and had that thin lightning-bolt shaped scar on his forehead.
On one hand, mirrors didn't always tell the truth.
On the other hand, that often depended on the person using the mirror.
Of course, perceptions, beliefs and opinions were a major part of what ruined his life. Voldemort, Fudge, Umbridge, Malfoy, and all those other evil people had ruined his life because it wasn't enough for them to believe what they wanted to believe, but they wanted to force it upon him, too. Their stubborn refusal to admit to anything otherwise was the other problem in that.
Ah well, Harry thought. As the old saying went, "You can lead a horse to water, but you can't make him drink." Harry supposed that in this case, "You could show an idiot some proof, but you can't make him think."
Infinitus/ est numerus stultorum/, Seneca once said. The number of fools is infinite.
So said Mr. McCoy the other day.
'So why must the fools, idiots and villains all gravitate towards me?' Harry thought with an exasperated sigh.
Another Latin quote which Hank mentioned was one by Phaedrus: Vulgus/ vult decipi./ The common people want to be deceived.
Sounded like the general wizarding populace, at least to Harry's ears.
Yup, that was how Harry saw the wizarding world these days (or at least the community back over in Britain); a bunch of idiotic sheep led by a power hungry shepherd. And they all cared about power and authority more than the truth. And Harry ended up being their scapegoat more often than not.
And Harry always had to do something about it.
Harry could feel his hero complex, his "saving-people-thing" kicking in again. He almost felt it was his duty to have to handle these problems, to protect the good and fight the evil.
It was true. Between the virtual slavery to those wretched Dursleys and his education at Hogwarts, he always felt he had to do something.
You probably could pass off for a superhero, you know/, a voice said deep within his head. /Can't deny you also look the part, hm?
It was true; Harry had taken his basic uniform that all of Xavier's recruits got and altered it to his own design.
His dark boots had been enchanted to not make any noise as he walked. His gloves had defensive capabilities on him, and could increase his own magic being thrown out of them. His belt had a few compartments on it, and on the front was the now rapidly familiar "X" symbol. His jumpsuit was a dark green, along with the cowl which was as magically strong as a hardhat. Behind him trailed a shiny black cape that could be used as a shield, which also made the outfit have a look which was slightly reminiscent of Batman (or so claimed a couple of other Institute students).
All in all, while Harry had no clue about fashion and was never really into stories about superheroes the same way Dudley was, he had to admit he looked pretty good while wearing it.
Harry could hardly even recognize himself now. He was taller, stronger, not wearing glasses, and wearing an X-Men outfit.
He shook his head. 'Life's always full of surprises, isn't it?' he thought to himself.
And as for being a mutant... to be brutally honest, this really didn't make any real difference to him. After finding out that he himself had the gift of magic and that there was a whole race of magical people that existed, learning about the existence of mutants was hardly a shock to him.
As for finding out that he himself was one...
Harry's sentiments on the matter were shared with all the other students at the Institute: On one hand, having powers had its perks... and on the other hand, everyone else's opinion could be bothersome and even hurtful at times.
Although, come to think of it, should anyone from the wizarding world find out about his mutation, Harry probably could get away with telling them he was just a very powerful wizard. Knowing them, they'd probably swallow that little white lie. Especially since his powers had been dubbed "magical manipulation."
But there was also the question of how his friends would react. He knew it would be a staggering surprise, but would that make them think any differently of him?
Harry's flight from the wizarding world, mutant discovery, the matter of the prophecy and Voldemort... those and other issues just kept hammering away at him. He had quite a few sleepless nights worrying about it, and sometimes spent hours at a time during the day just thinking about it.
What would he do, what could he do, what should he do...
"Mage?"
A gruff voice snapped Harry out of his thoughts. Turning around, he saw Logan at the door.
"Yes, Mr. Logan?"
"I think you've been in front of the mirror long enough."
"Sorry, was thinking about something..."
"Yeah, well, hurry, the sooner you kids get today's training out of the way, the sooner I can practice."
Harry allowed himself a tiny grin. When Logan was practicing in the Danger Room (and on the highest settings possible), he went at it with as much enthusiasm a kid playing a video game.
"Yeah, sorry about that, I'll be there."
'Be there to trash whatever little traps he has in store for us,' Harry thought with a smirk as he looked in the mirror one last time, checking himself over.
On the way out, he thought he saw something sparkle within those vivid green eyes of his from the other side of the mirror.
And Harry knew that, unlike mirrors such as the Mirror of Erised, the one back in his room told some of the truth.
Then again, whoever said that mirrors would show a person everything?
A/N: So how was this?
Note about the Latin quotes: I used this quote by Seneca about mirrors for my short story regarding Dumbledore and the Mirror of Erised, which I felt fit this story as well. The quote about fools by Seneca (which is where the name for my story "The Number of Fools" comes from) I've found to be very meaningful lately. The same goes for the one by Phaedrus, about common people wanting to be deceived. (Hey, I've been in one of those moods lately.)
What will come next? I'll have to see were TCWK goes.
A/N: Well, here I am showing another "behind-the-scenes" thing of something from TCWK that does not take place in the main story flow.
Last time, it was about people who have lots of power but really shouldn't be allowed it. This time, it's looking at oneself...
/NOTE: This takes place after chapter 11, "Quiet Christmas."/
/"Looking into the Mirror"/
Inventa/ sunt specula ut homo ipse se nosset./ Mirrors were invented so that man might know himself. -Seneca, Naturales/ Quaestiones/ (1.17.4)
Harry Potter was never one to like looking into the mirror.
He hated seeing his own face after witnessing something horrible, often due to his unique and potentially dangerous connection with Voldemort.
He really had changed in these past few months. His godfather had been murdered, he was grieving, things with the corrupt Ministry of Magic had gotten out of control... and his mutant powers developed.
Before, he was kind of small, with a pale face and those big round glasses that often had tape on them. Now, he stood inches taller, didn't need the glasses (although he still had them, just in case), and had more muscle on him, underneath healthier looking skin.
But behind those emerald green eyes of his... Harry knew that deep down, he was not alright, no matter how hard he tried to hide it, deny it or push it aside.
The face that looked back at him had jet black untidy hair (in contrast to his bright green eyes) and had that thin lightning-bolt shaped scar on his forehead.
On one hand, mirrors didn't always tell the truth.
On the other hand, that often depended on the person using the mirror.
Of course, perceptions, beliefs and opinions were a major part of what ruined his life. Voldemort, Fudge, Umbridge, Malfoy, and all those other evil people had ruined his life because it wasn't enough for them to believe what they wanted to believe, but they wanted to force it upon him, too. Their stubborn refusal to admit to anything otherwise was the other problem in that.
Ah well, Harry thought. As the old saying went, "You can lead a horse to water, but you can't make him drink." Harry supposed that in this case, "You could show an idiot some proof, but you can't make him think."
Infinitus/ est numerus stultorum/, Seneca once said. The number of fools is infinite.
So said Mr. McCoy the other day.
'So why must the fools, idiots and villains all gravitate towards me?' Harry thought with an exasperated sigh.
Another Latin quote which Hank mentioned was one by Phaedrus: Vulgus/ vult decipi./ The common people want to be deceived.
Sounded like the general wizarding populace, at least to Harry's ears.
Yup, that was how Harry saw the wizarding world these days (or at least the community back over in Britain); a bunch of idiotic sheep led by a power hungry shepherd. And they all cared about power and authority more than the truth. And Harry ended up being their scapegoat more often than not.
And Harry always had to do something about it.
Harry could feel his hero complex, his "saving-people-thing" kicking in again. He almost felt it was his duty to have to handle these problems, to protect the good and fight the evil.
It was true. Between the virtual slavery to those wretched Dursleys and his education at Hogwarts, he always felt he had to do something.
You probably could pass off for a superhero, you know/, a voice said deep within his head. /Can't deny you also look the part, hm?
It was true; Harry had taken his basic uniform that all of Xavier's recruits got and altered it to his own design.
His dark boots had been enchanted to not make any noise as he walked. His gloves had defensive capabilities on him, and could increase his own magic being thrown out of them. His belt had a few compartments on it, and on the front was the now rapidly familiar "X" symbol. His jumpsuit was a dark green, along with the cowl which was as magically strong as a hardhat. Behind him trailed a shiny black cape that could be used as a shield, which also made the outfit have a look which was slightly reminiscent of Batman (or so claimed a couple of other Institute students).
All in all, while Harry had no clue about fashion and was never really into stories about superheroes the same way Dudley was, he had to admit he looked pretty good while wearing it.
Harry could hardly even recognize himself now. He was taller, stronger, not wearing glasses, and wearing an X-Men outfit.
He shook his head. 'Life's always full of surprises, isn't it?' he thought to himself.
And as for being a mutant... to be brutally honest, this really didn't make any real difference to him. After finding out that he himself had the gift of magic and that there was a whole race of magical people that existed, learning about the existence of mutants was hardly a shock to him.
As for finding out that he himself was one...
Harry's sentiments on the matter were shared with all the other students at the Institute: On one hand, having powers had its perks... and on the other hand, everyone else's opinion could be bothersome and even hurtful at times.
Although, come to think of it, should anyone from the wizarding world find out about his mutation, Harry probably could get away with telling them he was just a very powerful wizard. Knowing them, they'd probably swallow that little white lie. Especially since his powers had been dubbed "magical manipulation."
But there was also the question of how his friends would react. He knew it would be a staggering surprise, but would that make them think any differently of him?
Harry's flight from the wizarding world, mutant discovery, the matter of the prophecy and Voldemort... those and other issues just kept hammering away at him. He had quite a few sleepless nights worrying about it, and sometimes spent hours at a time during the day just thinking about it.
What would he do, what could he do, what should he do...
"Mage?"
A gruff voice snapped Harry out of his thoughts. Turning around, he saw Logan at the door.
"Yes, Mr. Logan?"
"I think you've been in front of the mirror long enough."
"Sorry, was thinking about something..."
"Yeah, well, hurry, the sooner you kids get today's training out of the way, the sooner I can practice."
Harry allowed himself a tiny grin. When Logan was practicing in the Danger Room (and on the highest settings possible), he went at it with as much enthusiasm a kid playing a video game.
"Yeah, sorry about that, I'll be there."
'Be there to trash whatever little traps he has in store for us,' Harry thought with a smirk as he looked in the mirror one last time, checking himself over.
On the way out, he thought he saw something sparkle within those vivid green eyes of his from the other side of the mirror.
And Harry knew that, unlike mirrors such as the Mirror of Erised, the one back in his room told some of the truth.
Then again, whoever said that mirrors would show a person everything?
A/N: So how was this?
Note about the Latin quotes: I used this quote by Seneca about mirrors for my short story regarding Dumbledore and the Mirror of Erised, which I felt fit this story as well. The quote about fools by Seneca (which is where the name for my story "The Number of Fools" comes from) I've found to be very meaningful lately. The same goes for the one by Phaedrus, about common people wanting to be deceived. (Hey, I've been in one of those moods lately.)
What will come next? I'll have to see were TCWK goes.
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