Dark Reflections

To his uncle and auntie, it was a living nightmare. To Henry Potter, it was a dream coming true.

At first he didn't really understand why his uncle reacted so dramatically. "Burn it down!", he said. To be fair, an orphan that no one wanted like him getting a letter was a strange circumstance but not so bizarre that they had to move to another country to run away from it. The letter's cover was elegant and not threatening at all, just the way it arrived was kind of weird. Henry wondered who would send so many letters through owls, a lot of owls, in these modern days. Why no one in the neighborhood called Owl Research Institute when they saw a wisdom of them flying up and down their house all the time though? How much did Uncle Venorn pay to live in a dungeon surrounded by the sea like this? How did he find this in the first place? The questions rose up all the time but again Henry found his voice drowned by the his surrounding so he's got used to hiding his thoughts.

Henry stared at the darkness on the ceiling while listening to the waves that were hitting the rocks somewhere far away and the snoring of Dudley sleeping beside him. Today was his birthday. He heard that in someone's birthday, they got to make a wish. In Dudley's case, he got many wishes. But Henry was no greedy boy. One wish was fine. He wished that he got to read his letter. No matter how strange it looked, it's the very first letter that someone wrote to him. While he knew nothing about the person who sent it and he might not even have the chance to write back, he wanted to know regardless. Sometimes he wished that it was a letter coming from the dead, his dead alcoholic parents specifically. Because it was the only way to explain why uncle had to take all of them and ran away.

Maybe after 10 times of rejections, the fairy godmother finally took a pity on him. Because right in the next moment, Hagrid broke through the front door and hand him a cake. "You're a wizard, Henry!", he said. Frankly if you gave Henry a cake, you could call him whatever you wanted. But hey, the cat out of the bag. Now what?

Despite being a giant of a man, Hagrid was very gentle. He could be reckless sometimes but deep down he cared about Henry. And Henry appreciated that. Hagrid brought Henry out of the Dudley's dungeon, handed him the letter that he had wanted to read, and actually spent time answering his questions. The grand paper was an acceptance letter of Hogwart, the school of witchcraft and wizardry. Henry didn't recall applying, but it's not like he was complaining. There are more questions that needed its answers than the procedure of a magical school.

The best thing besides the cake was the actual story of his parents, not the lies weaved by his auntie. They were wizards. And if the time spent living with his auntie had ever taught him anything, it was that she hate magic, wizard and other kind of fantasies. Pieces are coming together now. It's not a surprise that she hated Henry's parents' guts to the point she would pour lies into their son's head. But it couldn't be helped. Even the truth was hard to believe enough in their world. Nevertheless, perhaps the fact that his parents fought with their lives to protect him, the fact that they loved him and sacrificed for him had somewhat filled the hole in his heart. Because he had lived his entire childhood secretly resenting them. He was taught that his parents were just a couple of irresponsible alcoholics who left their baby son at home and went on a car crash on their own. But now the misunderstanding was cleared, the burden on his shoulder slowly lessened without him realizing it.

The trip to Diagon Alley was great. While the fortune his parents left him with was enormous, it was limited nonetheless. He had 7 years upcoming in Hogwart, so reasonable purchases was necessary. Hagrid was afraid that the shiny gold coins would blind Henry's eyes. He specifically instructed the saving's strategy, and Henry listened. He only bought the necessities that the school required, didn't bat an eye to other things. Candies were tempting and quite cheap, but Henry had to wait until the giant man was gone. While some sweets could not make him go bankrupt, Hagrid was already worried enough.

"Sorry, Henry." Hagrid said. "I did make a reservation of a snowy owl to be your birthday gift, but somebody pulled a dirty trick on the shopkeeper. It's the only snowy owl of the stock and you can't wait for another one to arrive, so I got you this eagle owl instead." He handed Henry the cage of a quite angry-looking owl.

"Don't worry Hagrid, it's the thought that counted. Besides, this one is a good boy. Thank you very much." Henry stroke his head gently. No one had to be anyone's replacement. A white owl sounded pretty, but if fate had chose this one for him, then he was fine with it. Boris seemed to be a fierce boy but much like his purchaser, he was very sweet.

"Well I'm glad that you like it." Hagrid laughed.

Once the school supplies were done, Henry and Hagrid had to bade each other adieu and went on separated ways. Henry went to the train station with the help of a sweet woman. He quickly saw other 11 years old kids carrying luggages that he assumed will participate in Hogwart as well. On the train he met a ginger boy named Ron Weasley and a cute fuzzy girl named Hermione Granger. Ron was easy going and together they had a small feast of sweets on the spot. Hermione was smart yet a little bit showy. Ron thought that she was aggressive but Henry, based on years of living with the Dursley family, disagreed.

The conversation with Ron on the train was quite informative, as he learned about his reputation in the wizard world that he didn't know he had in the first place. The boy-who-lived, the sole survivor of the tragic Halloween 1980, and the boy of the prophecy who won against the Dark Lord.

"So Voldemort is dead?" Henry questioned.

"Shhhhh, you must not say his name!" Ron quickly shut him up with a panic.

"Because he's will arrive and haunt me in my sleep?" Henry joked nonetheless. He couldn't help it. It's unlikely to use Jesus to threaten an atheist. Wait, this is the wizard world, so... Merlin against muggles?

Ron shook his head. "No! Because it's a taboo!"

"Alright, alright." Henry raised his hands up in surrender. "I go to your world, I follow your customs and traditions. So you-know-who is dead?"

"Yeah! You defeated him."

"I have no memory of that though." If an evil lord got defeated by a baby, would people belittle the lord or praise the baby? Seemed to be the latter.

"He's basically dead, yeah. But some people believe that he will come back one day." Ron told him with an exasperated tone.

Politics and serious things were not what 11 years-olds liked to discuss a lot so the topic quickly changed to chocolates and houses that they wanted to join in Hogwarts. Yet it did stuck in Henry's mind for a while. Before the train reached its destination, he had already decided the house he wanted to join. Obviously whatever Ron would be sorted into.

Hogwart was more than anything Henry could ever imagine. A historic castle surrounded by a giant wall, located in the middle of the lake. All of the first year students gathered at the entrance, they were all dressed in the typical black robes which he thought was quite comfy. He liked black more than other colors, because the possible stains would be less visible. His peers were fine, mostly because he didn't know any of them, but there was this particular boy, Draco Malfoy. Henry had met him once in Madam Malkin’s Robes for All Occasions in Diagon Alley, and they both were getting fitted for the school robes. Thanks to the short interactions, while Henry could not pick his favorite among the houses, he had already chosen the least favorite one. Now that they met again, with his identity fully revealed, and Draco offered a friendship.

It's fascinating how Henry, the actual orphan, knew how to greet people better than the boy with proper parents. Draco wanted to be Henry's friend, but the first thing he did was insulting who was already Henry's friend before him. Quite an introduction, determined further conflicts.

"I met him once at Madam Malkin's place. So he comes from another all-wizarding family like yours too, Ron?" Henry commented.

"Yeah?" Ron looked at Henry.

"I guess not all customs and traditions of your world need to be respected. His things sounds irritating." Henry told Ron eventually to ease his worries. Fortunately, Ron's face was softened immediately upon hearing that. Refusing a handshake was clear enough of a sign, but a verbal assurance also didn't hurt to give.

"That's not the wizard world's customs and traditions Henry." Ron giggled. "It's only the Malfoy's thing."

"Hmm... Glad to hear that." Henry shrugged.

Professor McGonagall was an elegant woman. She explained the rules dutifully and brought them to the hall to attend the Sorting ceremony. It was a bit stressful as the legendary boy-who-lived to walk under many eyes. Even more so when she called his name and all the murmurs stopped then rose back stronger.

"Henry Potter!"

He was staring at the strawberry cake on the Ravenclaw table when he flinched at the call. He remembered Ron saying that the banquet would start after the Sorting but somehow this time their train got delayed, and the school couldn't let other students starved, so the food got on early. Ron just finished his sorting to Gryffindor when he realized Henry's lack of concentration, so before he went to his table, he pushed Henry's shoulder and whispered. "Go there and sit on the chair."

Henry muttered his thank and went as instructed. He had to say, having a talking and moving hat on his head was quite a strange feeling.

"Hmm... Difficult. Very difficult. Plenty of courage. A good mind. There is a talent also. Yes... A thrist to relationships, bondings with others. A thirst to friendship and... cake!"

"Please don't speak it so loud." Henry exclamated.

"Don't worry, no one beside you can hear me, but people can hear you, so be quiet, don't disrupt my thoughts." The hat grumbled.

That must be true, because everyone down there were giving him funny looks.

"Now where should I put you..."

"Not Slytherin..." He chanted quietly.

"Are you sure? You may not be typically suitable for the house of snakes, but being there will bring you what you wanted the most..."

"I'll be frank with you. I don't like that house. So please don't put me in there." He stopped his chanting and explained further. He had spent his whole life living under the control of others, forced to do things he didn't like in silence. But now everything changed, he had to as well. In this world, he's the fucking boy-who-lived, not the weak and skinny Potter. The least he could do was negotiation. "I would rather return to auntie Petunia than going to the same house with a boy who badmouthed my friend and the man who killed my parents. Besides..." Henry averted his eyes to the Gryffindor table. "As you said, all I need to satisfy my thirst was there. Friendship and cake. I can not picture anything I want more than that. So please..."

"Such determination... Yes... But I have to warn you, I'm never wrong. However, if you have said so... GRYFFINDOR!"

He let out the breath that he didn't know he had been holding.

Henry quickly jumped off the seat and ran to the Gryffindor table. People there welcomed him with open arms. Reuniting with Ron and making friends with others were good, but the cakes had to wait until the Sorting ceremony was over. The older students had stopped eating when they arrived. He could wait, somehow. It's not that he was hungry, in fact he had had plenty of chocolate on the train. But having money available in your wallet didn't mean you should refuse other money, it was that kind of logic. The more he had to wait, the vague others' talking became. All he could sense was the blueberry cake on the plate multiplied and quickly filled his vision while screaming "eat meeee..."

"Harry Riddle!"

It was the strangest name. Because it had Henry's attention all of a sudden. He couldn't explain why, he didn't know the boy, nor other students because they just kept talking or waiting for the Sorting to end. No one really cared about where would this boy be sorted, his name was just of a stranger to them. But somehow those words had an affinity that could draw Henry's attention more than the blueberry cake on the table.

Then, all of the murmurs stopped. He thought he had heard the gasps rising up and down everywhere. The reaction was even stronger compared to when Henry's name was called.

Harry Riddle was a short skinny boy, drowned in his own school robes. His raven hair was a bit longer than Henry's. But his green eyes, his face, his glasses... It's the exact replica of Henry Potter, the boy-who-lived.