Will glared at himself in the floor-length mirror, angrily taking in his appearance, so different than that of his old carefree schoolboy look. This William Douglas had shorter hair, slicked forwards and spiked in the front; a perpetual firmly set frown instead of the huge grin that he used to bear; and blue, iceshard eyes that looked as though they would freeze whomever they looked at. His clothes were changed as well, instead of the jeans and t-shirt that he used to constantly wear, he was now garbed in a black and green tuxedo, with buttons and cufflinks of silver. A large silver and green ring adorned his right hand bearing his family House crest, the image of a snake twisted back upon itself in the form of the Endless Knot.

A small voice spoke inside of him as he stared at himself, "This isn't you... You don't want to become your father..."

He shook his head, clenching his fists and trying to quiet the voice. He looked at himself in the mirror again, yet this time his image wavered, a sickly grin twisting it's way across the face in the mirror, a single word from this figure sending Will's mind down into that now familiar memory of his last day at Hogwarts.

He had felt so much joy on that morning, laughing and teasing Brandy as they ate breakfast. The small voice inside tried to speak again, the thought of Brandy giving it strength to fight, before the sneering figure shoved it down again, forcing Will farther into the memory.

His fingers went numb first, dropping the letter onto the table in front of him, the numbness washing through his body, driving the terror and sorrow that the letter had caused away, leaving Will staring off into the table blankly. He couldn't be dead...

It was only her voice, the voice of his beloved, that could drag him back into reality, that could drag the pain back. Will dimly remembered the agony that he felt, the rush of emotions as terror, pain, sorrow, rage, joy, and guilt all crashed through him almost simultaneously. His mind continually tried to rebel and welcome the numbness as Brandy led him through the motions of preparing to leave, her touch, her voice the only defense against the darkness that offered relief from feeling emotion. He clearly remembered clinging to her, begging her not to leave him, to protect him. He remembered little after that, having left her standing at the gates of Hogwarts, his mind had retreated into the darkness, leaving him almost catatonic.

After a dim carriage ride through the clouds, he arrived there, the place that he had stopped calling home after his first year at Hogwarts. The Douglas family manor. It was there, after he stumbled out of the carriage to face his mother, that she spoke those words that had given the forgotten boy inside of him such power.

"Like father like son. Welcome home William."

He still had no idea why she had chosen those words, he had stopped trying to be like his father years before. It hardly mattered, it had been those words that had given this figure in the mirror such power, the boy that had only wanted to become what his father had been, the boy that now felt only rage at Will for shoving him down so deep, for taking away the few years that the boy could have spent with his father before death claimed the man.

The rest of the memory blurred into darkness, the funeral preperations, the funeral itself, and the loads of work that he had been forced to do before he could rightfully assume his place as the Head of Douglas manor.

And now, now he prepared to return to Hogwarts, his leave of absence over. Once again, he was awash in a sea of different emotions, different parts of him feeling terror and joy at the thought of going back there. The boy inside of him who had spent all of those years calling Hogwarts home knew that William Douglas would be forced to come to grips with who he would become, which persona he would take on; the sneering, angry, cold-hearted boy that had become his father; or the boy who loved much, the boy who's main fear had been to become his father.

And still the words rang in his head...

Like Father Like Son.

The castle was framed perfectly against the sky. Will sat on his horse, watching the castle, his mind in turmoil. The feelings that seeing the school had brought up inside him were hammering at his defenses already, wearing away his steely resolve. He had almost turned back three times already. He had camped out on the outskirts of the Forbidden Forest for two days, waging an internal battle that had still not come to a conclusion. The two fighters warring inside of him were at a standstill for the moment, yet he knew that the smallest thing could send the forces clashing against each other again. The small philisophical part of him that had grown through this found it odd that they fought with swords instead of wands. In a way, he took a small comfort in the figures that represented the two warring forces, the embodiment of Love and Hate. He supposed that the battle must rage in everyone in some small way, and it was that he had held onto for comfort these last few days.

Who will I be when I go back? Who will I be when I see them? See her?

And with that thought, the fighters lunged once again, fighting for dominance within him. And he was once more forced into the figure that they fought over, a small boy cowering in the corner, crying for the pain to stop.

But this time, he had the shreds of a plan. The boy had ceased his whimpering days ago, the tears that fell now were merely a show, as he found that here he could truly think without interference from either force.

Words that he had once used; or not used, in that older body he had outside; to encourage himself in the face of danger floated through his mind as he stood, a small piece of wood clenched in his fist.

I will not run from my fear. I will face it, and defeat both fear and the fear-maker.

He held up the wand in his hand, this wand that had strangely been by his side the whole time, and pointed it at the dueling figures.

"Protego!"

His voice soared through the rooms of his mind, the spell exploding into being in between the two figures. They both turned to face the small, quivering boy, a small smile tugging at the face of Love, a growl tearing from the throat of Hate.

Hate opened his mouth first, the oily voice that he now found so familiar attempting to ensnare the boy.

"You ssshould let me handle thisss... You gave me control, remember?"

The boy hung his head in shame, the memory of that night threatening to force its way into the forefront again. His hand shook, the spell faltering. He brought his head back up as he felt the warm caress of Love speak.

"Yes, you gave control. Don't ever forget that you are in control William."

Hope steadied the spell that the boy had cast, driving the two fighters even farther apart. Perhaps he really was in control. Perhaps he really could end this... For good...