Harry's body remained seated comfortably on the floor of number twelve, Grimmauld Place, but his mind sailed far away along its invisible connexion into the hidden recesses of Voldemort's mind. Harry was floating in a coracle, a large black cobra resting on his shoulders. He didn't know why he had the snake with him, but it felt familiar, as though it had always been there.
They drifted in their small boat on a vast, stormy sea, filled with innumerable islands: some small and stony, others large and forbidding. On the edges of each island Harry could make out faint wisps of memory, and it took every ounce of self control Harry possessed to keep himself from exploring. He sensed that if once he lost sight of his purpose, he might never manage to get out of Voldemort's mind again.
His mission was clear and simple: discover a way to break through Voldemort's wards. Harry concentrated hard on finding them, but it was difficult for him to see through the stormy waves of the Dark Lord's mind.
Lightning flashed all around him, and Harry sensed that the only reason he himself had not yet been struck was that somehow Voldemort's mental defences failed to perceive him as a threat. As it were, something about Harry made him belong there. Harry wondered if it had something to do with the snake.
'I need to find the wards to Riddle Manor,' Harry repeated under his breath in Parseltongue. 'I need to find the wards to Riddle Manor.'
Suddenly there was a flash, and Harry found himself very close to the shore of a large rock that burst majestically out of the sea. On the shore, he could see a dark-haired boy, just a few years older than himself, standing in the elegant dining room of an large manor house.
Three adults were just sitting down to dinner when the boy drew his wand and murmured the Killing Curse. One after another, the adults dropped to the floor, dead. The boy smirked coldly.
Harry felt his coracle drifting closer and closer to the rock.
'The wards,' he thought in a panic. 'I need to find the wards.'
Another flash came, and Harry found himself standing on the shore of a heavily fortified island. An enormous castle rose up into the sky from foundations of solid stone. The wind and rain beat furiously against its walls, but its parapets stood in proud defiance of the elements. Harry thought the castle strongly resembled Hogwarts.
The front gate was guarded by terrible creatures in long black cloaks. A feeling of gloom and despair hung around them. Harry shivered.
'Dementors,' he moaned. He would have to find some other way inside the fortress.
He crawled up the rocks around to the back of the castle, barely keeping his grip on the slippery stones. Whether it took him hours or seconds, he couldn't tell. All he knew was that whilst he was climbing, he thought he'd never reach the end, but once he reached his destination, it seemed that it had taken him only the blinking of an eye. Harry shivered again. If he spent too long here, he felt sure he'd go mad.
On the other side of the castle, Harry found a small slope that led down to the dungeons. He tripped on a pebble, and skidded along the sharp rocks to the bottom, cutting and bruising himself along the way. He winced. For an illusion that was being projected by his and Riddle's mind, it was pretty painful.
At the bottom of the slope, Harry found a small wooden door in the wall. It was truly minuscule – it looked rather like something that had been designed for house elves to use. Harry reached for the handle, but the door refused to budge. He pulled and pulled, all with no effect. Finally, he stared at the door and narrowed his eyes.
'Open,' he hissed in Parseltongue. The snake around his shoulders hissed along with him, and, to Harry's relief, the tiny door opened. Harry crouched down and paused. He was certain he would be too big to fit through. The blood potion had given him Sirius's broad shoulders and solid build, and, unlike Sirius, Harry had never suffered the emaciating effects of Azkaban.
To his surprise, however, as he approached the door, he realised that his shoulders were much narrower than usual, and he was a good bit shorter and thinner. He fit easily through the door and found himself in a stone corridor, on the other side of which hung an enormous antique mirror. Harry gasped when he saw his reflection, a reflection he hadn't seen for six years.
He looked just like James Potter, but with Lily's green eyes. He was much taller and stronger than he had been as a little kid – he didn't have that half-starved look – but he was a few inches shorter than he was used to. His chest and shoulders were narrower, which didn't particularly please him, but he noted with satisfaction that his stomach was a bit leaner. He wore glasses, and he had James's messy black hair.
.....
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