By BlueEyes White Dragon Sorcerer

Disclaimer: Own? This? Are you insane?

AN: Yeah, yeah. Evilness of water and abundance of thought and giggling glee of the impending last book left me with this brand spankin' new plotbunny! I keep poking at my other fics, but nothing monumental has been happening. Lady Draculea and I received a stirring review on our "Natural Feelings" fic, which got me so stoked that I actually started writing this. #sweatdrop#

Start!

Hanging on a wall in a manor of flagrantly Dark Wizards was a mirror of great beauty and great pain. Having been confiscated from the Department of Mysteries sometime during the First War, it was no longer remembered even by the very person who swiped it

. Dark Lords have much more important things to linger on besides beautifully crafted mirrors, after all, despite its astounding powers.

In this manor long left devoid of all but a few house elves and various tiny vermin, three teenagers were searching for one of several vastly important artifacts to their cause. One was rather tall, red-haired, and would be quite vocal about his opinions of the abundance of arachnids in his current location if his clever friend hadn't put a Silencing Charm on him after the first shriek. The second teenager had bushy, brown hair and had been previously mentioned as quite clever for helping prevent their detection at least once. Last, and most important, was a bespectacled boy with black, messy hair and a very unique, lightening bolt scar upon his forehead. Alert for any traps or enchantments, they twitched at every scratch of rats' paws and jumped at every creak of the floorboards. Unknown to them something gleamed from within a suit of armor they passed.

They cannot - however - have missed the enormous battle axe decimating the porcelain vase that the girl had walked past mere seconds before. Whipping around so fast their necks popped, the three already had had several spells speeding toward their target. To their astonishment, each spell that hit the possessed suit of armor bounced off harmlessly as if they were using tennis birdies.

"RUN!" the dark-haired boy commanded, leading the way down several halls in the maze of a manor into what he believed to be just any other room. Luckily, the possessed suit of armor was not anywhere near as quick on its feet as the teenagers were and was lost several corridors away from the room they were taking refuge in. "I don't think I ever want to do that again," he murmured, breathing heavily and holding his knees to stay standing.

"Neither do I." Both boys could see her straighten up and go into lecture mode, resisting the urge to groan. "Ages ago, medieval wizards used to charm armor to reflect spells of ill intent, but the spell work was lost several hundred years ago. Voldemort - " The red-haired boy jerked, staring wide-eyed at his girlfriend. " - must have gotten his hands on one of the few remaining suits." Still communicating his displeasure of hearing the forbidden name, the taller boy made a face. "Oh, grow up, Ronald! If we succeed, he'll be nothing but inspiration for boogie man stories." Having caught their breath, they began to give their surroundings a better look than the cursory glance to ensure their safety, Ron giving the rather large if dead arachnids immortalized in glass a wide berth as they made their way through the odds and ends. "Harry?"

"Hermione," the girl turned to Harry, "what is this?" Hurrying over, they joined him in front of an item hanging on the wall and covered with a dust sheet. She banished the sheet and they gaped at the tall, shimmering mirror. "What does it do, do you think?" he asked, eyes locked on to a certain spot in the mirror. Neither of the other two could see anything but their reflections.

Then in elegant, curling script this inscription revealed itself not a foot above their reflections' heads:

Through time and space two bodies unite.

Their coupling an act of anything but spite.

Working to mend what the gods forever split,

Peace and happiness impossible without it.

"What the gods forever split? Surely this isn't referring to that old myth, but... that's the only thing that makes sense," Hermione muttered, more to herself than anything, but her companions both heard her. Nudging the other male in the room, Ron scowled since he was unable to speak still.

"What old myth? What is it talking about?" He voiced the questions both he and Ron were wondering since the red-head was currently unable to voice them. Smiling in thanks to his best friend, Ron nodded towards the third in their group to let her know they were paying attention.

"There's a myth that in the very beginning there were perfect beings with two heads, four arms, and four legs, but they angered the gods. In retaliation, the gods split them in two, thus making them how we know them today. Those of two bodies that share a soul - or more popularly known as soul mates - sought some way to regain their perfect form, but it was all in vain." Harry had gone very pale at this point, but both of his friends were wrapped up in awe at the mirror. "Someone very brilliant must have created this mirror to show people's soul mates."

"That's what this does?" Hermione nodded, positively sure she was right, but it only made her friend pale further. Stepping forward to peer closer at the image only he could see, apparently, Harry nearly stopped breathing. From the mirror stared a very familiar face that he had seen frequently last school year. Tom Marvolo Riddle tilted his head, gray eyes staring straight into emerald and beckoning him. Mesmerized by how beautiful and open and completely charming his archenemy looked, Harry neared the mirror so that his nose was not an inch from glass. The reflection of the other had gotten bigger, as if the person on the other side of the glass had moved closer as well. 'Soft gray eyes, high cheekbones, defined characteristics, Harry thought, rather charming for the future murderer of countless people.'

"You'll thank me for this later," a soft voice breathed in his ear before he was unceremoniously pushed from behind. Expecting to be kissing cold glass, Harry was floored to feel his body pass through what felt like a veil of freezing goo before his lips meet someone's silky, warm lips.

AN: Bwahahahaha! #hackcough# Ok, so I only posted this to preen and to inform you all why I'm taking so long. I'm really sorry about this, but I've been having some issues with getting my ideas to flow and though I can come up with some wicked ideas that help others over the rough patches in their fics I can't seem to do that for myself. I'm insanely proud of this chapter, but it was extremely difficult to write and I'm not sure I'll be able to keep up with it. #sweatdrop# Wish me luck.

Oh! I'm on AFF, but only this fic, so far. I know, I know I'm lazy and I'm being dragged around because I need to get things done.