There's a heavy low creak from behind you, "Harry! You in here?", it's Hermione.
"Yes... Over here."
Unfortunately, Harry's feet had become entangled in the cloth. He lost his balance and crashed towards the mirror. He yelped as he felt his ass hit the mirror. Everything tilted wildly as the wooden frame creaked. With a wooden -crack- the hinge broke, and Harry and the mirror crashed ass backwards onto the floor.
For Harry it happened in slow motion. Like a dizzying out of body experience. As he fell, the world stopped moving, and time reversed. Before his eyes, he saw himself walking backwards out of the room. His sense of balance told him he was still falling. But his view unwound further into the past, to the first meal in the Grand Hall. That flickered away in an instant, and Harry saw himself at the Train station trying desperately to figure out how to get to Platform 9 3/4.
The scene flickered again, and he was in a dark, dank room. Spotting a friendly face, he wanted to weep for joy. But no words came out his lips. He was simply a mute passenger on his journey into the past. Unable to express himself, as Hagrid said, "You're a Wizard, Harry."
A faded outline of the real world intruded into Harry vision, as the scene shifted again. This time, to one of Dudley's birthdays, there were five candles on the cake, and as Harry caught his reflection, the misery was already as clear on his face, as his youth.
There was a flurry of owls, as the scene shifted. Harry was wrapped up, warm and cosy. He looked up into the massive face of Albus Dumbledore, and Professor McGonagall. Behind them, towering over them, Hagrid his face wet with tears...
"Dead...", he sobbed, blowing his nose loudly on his handkerchief. It looked big enough to be a towel, or even a blanket at his own diminutive size.
He held out one tiny hand, to try to hold onto the headmaster, but he just scraped his pudgy digits over Dumbledore's nose.
As the scene shifted again, Harry knew there wasn't long to go. Either he'd simply vanish, or be forced to face his own nightmare memories. Even as the realisation struck, he found himself sitting in a crib.
"Take them, Lily... Take them and run..." he felt his throat tighten at the sound of his father's voice.
Outside the door, there was sickening green flash, and a scream. A death scream. Harry knew his father was dead.
Lily entered, her hair was wild, and her eyes glittering green and fired with passion.
But something was off, something was different. His crib was in the wrong place, when he looked over to where it was meant to be, he saw it. There was another crib there. An identical infant sat in his pale blue romper suit, he was crying at the noise. He was still struggling to work out what was going on.
She bent into the crib, and picking him up she hugged him to her chest. "He'll never harm you.... he'll never harm either of you." she swore with passion.
But Voldemort was already behind her, his wand pointing steadily into her back.
"Avada Kadavra."
Sickly green lightning shot forth, and rippled and roared around their hugging bodies. With a shriek, Lily and Harry Potter died in each other's embrace.
As Voldemort tried to pull his wand back, it resisted. The vile green lightning leapt from their bodies, and wrapped itself around the Dark Lord. It was his turn to shriek in pain and denial, as the magic backfired and killed him utterly.
From behind the crib bars, Harry watched still unsure what was happening, still not sure if this was a dream, a nightmare or the actual events... and why they were now different.
He was still in shock, as Hagrid crashed into the room. Literally shattering the frame, as he entered the room. His face fell, as he saw the bodies on the floor. His foot crashed down into the corpse of Voldemort, turning his broken spine to dust. Hagrid's anger fled, and his tenderness returned, as he examined Lily and Harry. But it was already too late. Their lives were extinguished.
A wail ripped itself from Harry's lung, he felt his powerlessness vanish, and a cry rip from his soul.
Hagrid heard it, and a smile split his face.
"I'll keep you safe.... At least, I can keep you safe, little Harriet."
Harry felt himself being lifted in powerful, but tender hands, safe and secure. He was carried to Hagrid's bike. With a kick, the engine started, and they were airborne.
Time flickered, and the scene shifted. He was back on the Dursley's doorstep, still wrapped in the blanket, and his romper suit. Hagrid was sobbing, McGonagall's eyes were wet with tears, and the Headmaster was struggling.
"He was already dead." his voice was distant and cold, "Voldemort was already dead."
"I ... I couldn't save them... I tried..." Hagrid's voice quavered and broke.
He took time to gather his thoughts. His mouth opened and closed several times, but no words came out.
Professor Dumbledore put a steadying hand on his shoulder.
"You saved Harriet... You saved her..."
"Her?" Harry thought. He wasn't able to check. Time flickered, and the scene shifted.
It was Dudley's ninth birthday, and Harriet was passing him a simple present in a white box with a pink ribbon. "Oh Shit." was the thought racing through her head, as Dudley snatched it from her open hands.
Time flickered and flashed, Harry barely noticed.
Until with a crash, Harry returned to the here and now. Sitting up, she saw Hermione leaning in to offer her hand.
"Come on Harriet, just make sure you don't cut yourself."
Extending his hand, Harry saw that once again Hermione was right. His hand was her hand. Slender and feminine, it disappeared into the frilly cuffs of her blouse.
Getting to her feet, she gave a shimmy to shake loose the shards of mirror she felt sticking to the back of her uniform.
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