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Summary
Harry didn't recognize the person in the mirror. He wasn't sure it was even a person, or some/thing/ that was an illusion. This monstrous... amalgamation couldn't possibly be Harry.
It had his eyes, though.
It had his sharp, Avada eyes, and his raven mop of hair. But... Harry didn't have giant black wings on his back, nor did he have slitted pupils, fucking /antlers/, or a... /WHAT THE FUCK IS A SNAKE COMING OUT OF MY ARSE WHAT THE BLOODY FUCKING HELL- oh wait no it's just a tail- WHY THE FUCK DO I HAVE A TAIL AND WHY IS IT A BLOODY SNAKE!?!/
At this point, Harry was very much hyperventilating. And very much /not/ having a good birthday.
Another thing Harry then did, was scream at the top of his lungs, though this time not from pain, but from horror.
