บท 93: Chapter 90
Harry stood up and activated Gamer's Mind.
The image in the mirror in front of him flickered and changed. It showed a new scene now.
It was Harry. But he was older. His eyes were glowing, one of them an unnatural green and the other a bloody crimson. He stood in a small room with a window floating over his head.
Harry Potter
LV- ∞
There were dozens of lifeless unmoving bodies scattered across the room. Stifling a horrified gasp, Harry saw the faces of Hermione, Terry, Ron and Dean amongst the many faceless corpses.
And on the stone walls of the room he stood in, written over and over in dripping viscous blood, were the following words.
What's mine is mine and mine and mine
and mine, and mine, and mine
Not yours
Harry staggered back a bit, before trying his best to smile at Dumbledore, putting his cloak on and walking out of the room as fast as his legs could carry him.
He would never return again.
The events with the Mirror of Erised had forced Harry to confront himself about a lot of things.
He'd asked himself the question of how far he would be willing to go to be the best. How much would he sacrifice in the name of becoming the best? Already he'd seen that he could risk his own life in the name of getting a level up. How long before he reached a position where he risked others? How long before he lost sight of his initial motive of protecting what his parents had given their lives to save…
How long before he turned himself into an invincible madman?
He'd already felt the insanity. He'd felt how sometimes he suddenly felt a burst of uncontrollable rage that…almost seemed to come from…beyond him.
Harry closed his eyes, and his Gamer's Mind flashed back to the moment in August when he'd killed two men in pure unadulterated rage. Sighing, he gently massaged his head, pushing those memories out of his mind.
And then there was his own uncontrollable need for secrecy.
The way he'd kept anything and everything he'd found out about Quirrell close to his chest…not sharing anything with those who could do something about it was one example of that. He didn't have any solid evidence, but he could bet that the fact that Quirrell was drinking unicorn blood would turn a few heads at the DMLE.
Another example was Hedwig.
He had looked up the rules regarding familiars in the school. He could easily have Hedwig move about freely and without any restrictions by acknowledging her as his familiar in public. Hogwarts school rules allowed that. Heck it'd probably end up making people adore him even more. But he didn't. Throughout most of the term, he'd tried everything and anything to keep her a secret.
"No" he muttered to himself, "Hedwig is different. She's too young. And revealing her to the world would make people see me as some sort of savior. They'd expect me to solve all of their problems. That, I'm not ready to do."
Due to being able to differentiate between objective and non-objective actions you have gained +1 to Wis.
He looked over at the white phoenix perched on the headboard of the bed who'd perked up upon hearing her name. She flapped her wings and flew over to where Harry sat and let out a questioning trill.
"Just thinking girl," said Harry with a sad smile. Hedwig nipped at his fingers before flapping up onto his shoulder and nuzzling her head in his hair.
At least Hedwig thought he was still worthy enough, thought Harry with a smile.
'But the secrecy needs to go,' Harry thought resolutely as he set Hedwig back on the headboard. Tomorrow, he decided, would be the day he'd send all the information he had about Quirrell and the Stone to Amelia Bones, and let the proper authorities handle the Stone and its thief.
It was time to wash his hands of this mess of a situation. He picked up a quill and started writing.
Madam Bones,
This is to draw to your attention that something nefarious has been happening at Hogwarts and I wish to let the proper authorites kno...
He wrote and rewrote the letter all night, and knowing that Harry Potter's word would be taken more seriously than any anonymous tips, signed his own name under it.
The next morning, he went to the owlery and posted the letter using a school owl, not wanting to send Hedwig somewhere she'd never been.
Then he put it out of his mind and spent his time playing in the snow with Ron and his brothers. It wasn't until dinnertime came around that anything interesting happened.
The house tables had been moved to the sides and smaller round tables were placed all around the hall for the very few students that were staying for the holidays. There were the majority of fifth and seventh years who, nervous for their OWLS and NEWTS, had stayed behind. But the majority of the first years, including all of Ravenclaw had gone home.
The teachers that stayed for the Christmas holidays sat all around the hall, some conversing with fellow teachers and others talking to tablefuls of students. All the hustle and bustle served as background noise for Harry as he finished up his homework on a table.
He was just putting finishing touches on his Potions essay when someone took the seat next to him.
Harry's blood chilled as he realized who it was. It was Quirrell. He had a goblet of wine in his hand. Smiling, he turned to Harry, "H-Hello Mr P-Potter." he said.
Harry forced a smile, "Hello Professor. How are your holidays going?"
"Ve-Very productive Mr. P-Potter. And y-yours?"
"Fine as well Professor. Can I help you with something?"
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