The Mirror of Erised pt 2

You awoke from a nightmare that featured Harry falling through the glass of a mirror and disappearing forever. You weren’t sure why Harry’s obsession with the mysterious Mirror of Erised worried you so much. It wasn’t any of your business. You weren’t even really friends. But you didn’t want to be the one who stood idly by while the Boy-Who-Lived was consumed by a dangerous magical artifact.

The listless Gryffindor was practically dragged into the Great Hall for breakfast by an openly worried Ron Weasley. You watched with barely veiled concern as Harry sat at the Gryffindor table and ignored everything around him. His hair was messier than ever and there were clear bags under his eyes after what was likely his third night in a row with barely any sleep. He didn’t eat. He didn’t respond to anything anyone asked him. All he seemed to care about anymore was seeing his dead family in the mirror. He was obsessed with it.

“Gotta go!” you blurted out to Crabbe and Goyle as you shot up from your seat at the Slytherin table and rushed out of the Great Hall. You wound up waiting outside the library for a solid ten minutes before Madam Pince showed up to open it.

“Did you get that mirror book from the Headmaster?” you immediately asked.

“Well, good morning to you too,” the annoyed librarian admonished your lack of manners. “I asked him about it when I saw him at dinner last night and I may have mentioned that a very **** first year was looking for it. He said he’d see if he could find it.”

That wasn’t a no. In fact, that sounded almost like a yes.

“So did he return it?” you asked as you followed Madam Pince into the library.

“Not to me personally,” she said, “But in the past, the Headmaster has had the Hogwarts elves return books for him when he was exceptionally busy. I’ve had to scold a few of them for returning the books directly to the shelves without allowing me to check them back in first.”

You trailed after Madam Pince as she made her way through the library to her desk. You bounced on the balls of your feet as she checked for returns but then visibly sagged when she came up empty.

“Sorry, Mr. Gaunt, but it’s not here,” she informed you with a shake of her head. “The Headmaster is a very old and very busy wizard. Sometimes he misplaces things.” You opened your mouth to complain but she cut you off. “Hush! What did I tell you yesterday about patience?”

“Right… right… Hogwarts wasn’t built in a day,” you recited her words from the day before.

You trudged to your table and set your school bag on it then made your way back into the shelves of the library. The day before you found something on Varrick the Vanished and the Mirror of Erised so you decided to pursue that lead and see if you could find any other records of this Mirror of Erised. Magical Mirrors couldn’t be the only book in Hogwarts’ vast library to contain information on it.

It turned out… it was.

Apparently, Grimhilde Königin was the definitive expert on mirror magic. The German witch’s book was always the one that was referenced when you came across anything that mentioned the Mirror of Erised.

The one book that had the answer to the mystery you spent two and a half days researching was out of your reach.

In your haze of worry, exhaustion, and paranoia, it almost seemed to you like someone conspired to make it impossible for anyone to research the Mirror of Erised in the school library.

You blamed Dumbledore.

The crazy old Headmaster was the one holding the book out of your reach.

‘Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi’

Those words mocked you. You’d taken to repeatedly writing out the mirror’s mysterious inscription on some parchment so that you would be able to recognize the words if you came across them in your reading. But even that hadn’t worked. You weren’t able to find any of those nonsensical gibberish words anywhere.

“Damn it!” you growled in frustration as you snapped forward and banged your head on the table. Nearly two and a half days of searching and you still weren’t sure how the mirror worked. You knew the classroom where it was kept wasn’t too far from the library but you didn’t want to risk going back there and getting ensnared like Harry had. You weren’t going to face the mirror or Harry again until you knew what it was capable of.

“Mr. Gaunt!” Madam Pince’s sharp tone cut across the library. “You know the rules about noise in the library. Those still stand even when you’re the only student here!”

You sat up and apologized, “I’m sorry, Madam Pince. I’m just… frustrated.”

“Go to lunch, Mr. Gaunt,” the librarian instructed. “Don’t think I forgot that you skipped it yesterday. A boy your age shouldn’t be skipping meals.”

Tell that to Harry Potter — the Boy-Who-Skipped-Dinner.

“But I--” you started to protest.

“No buts!” Madam Pince interrupted. “Go. I normally make an exception for students who are doing school work. However, we both know that’s not the case with you. Go, or I’ll close the library for the rest of the day!”

That was apparently the downside of staying at school during winter break and being the only student in the library - you had the undivided attention of the librarian.

Seeing no other option, you grumbled to yourself as you began to pack your things. You stuffed your parchment and quill back in your school bag and returned the last two books you were reading to their proper spots on the shelf.

“And Mr. Gaunt!” Madam Pince called after you as you headed out. “You should stop off at the bathroom along the way. You have ink on your forehead.”

“Great…” you grumbled. It was probably from when you banged your head on the table… and your ink-covered parchment. You made your way down the stairs and slipped into the boys bathroom near the Great Hall.

Sure enough, there was a smudge of ink on your forehead when you looked at it in the mirror above the sink.

Actually… the smudge looked like letters… it seemed as though banging your head on the parchment copied the still wet words directly onto your forehead.

But wait… there was something off about the inky letters that you had inadvertently copied onto your skin. You spent all morning studying those strange gibberish words so you could recognize them if they popped up in your reading. The letters weren’t in the right order and some were even flipped backwards.

The ‘ru oyt on’ imprinted on your forehead read as ‘no tyo ur’ in your reflection with the y and the r being flipped backwards. You reached up and rubbed your temples which caused the skin on your forehead to squish together and as a direct result… the letters did the same and now had no spaces between them. So instead of ‘no tyo ur’ it now said ‘notyour’.

‘not your’

It was almost funny how those gibberish words made more sense backwards in a mirror than they did frontways.

Your eyes went wide in sudden realization. IN A MIRROR!

You dropped your school bag on the ground and ducked down so you could fish out one of your self-inking quills and the parchment you repeatedly wrote the inscription on. The backwards letters were a pain so you decided to rewrite the gibberish phrase in all capitals in the hope that they would be easier to recognize. And since the smudged words on your forehead proved that the inscription’s spacing couldn’t be trusted, you decided to squish all the backward gibberish words together into one long blurb.

‘ERISEDSTRAEHRUOYTUBECAFRUOYTONWOHSI’

You stared at the big blurb of gibberish then lifted the parchment and turned it toward the mirror. .

‘I2HOWИOTYOUЯ7AƆ∃8UTYOUЯH∃AЯT2Ɑ32IЯ∃’

There it was. It took some time to flip the backward letters and add new spaces but eventually you wound up with.

‘I SHOW NOT YOUR FACE BUT YOUR HEARTS DESIRE’

That was it! Harry’s desire was to see the family he never got a chance to know. And that’s what the mirror showed him. Your desire was to have a family you could be proud of. And that’s what the mirror showed you.

It wasn’t the Mirror of Erised. It was the Mirror of DESIRE! Maybe that’s why you weren’t able to find records of it in the library? The backwards inscription probably didn’t translate to other languages so most other sources likely referred to it as the Mirror of Desire.

You were jarred from your revelation by the sound of a toilet flushing behind you. You thought you were alone in the bathroom but apparently not. A moment later, one of the stall doors opened and your jaw dropped in shock as Headmaster Albus Dumbledore strode out in all his purple-robed, long-bearded glory.

Even after living at Hogwarts for a full term, you had never been this close to the Headmaster. You could’ve sworn the faculty had their own bathrooms to use so you were caught off guard at crossing paths with him in such an odd location.

“Ah, good afternoon, Mr. Gaunt,” the Headmaster greeted you as he walked over and began to wash his hands in a sink two away from the one you were at. “You know, it often amazes me the revelations one has in the lavatory. Why, nearly a century ago, I deduced one of the twelve uses of dragon’s blood while sitting atop the porcelain throne.”

“...” you struggled to process that statement as you continued to stare in shock at the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot and the Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards as he washed his hands beside you like it was a completely normal occurrence.

“I was actually hoping to run into you,” Headmaster Dumbledore continued. “Madam Pince informed me that you were looking for a book that I removed from the library at the beginning of the month.”

“Y-yes,” you stammered, “Magical Mirrors… it’s one of only twelve English editions. Need it for an… important project.”

“Ah, it seems great minds think alike,” the Headmaster remarked, “That is precisely why I removed it from the library. I require it for a little project of my own.”

“...” Obviously, if the Headmaster needed the book for an actual project then he had priority over you, a mere first year.

“However,” Professor Dumbledore stated as he turned off the faucet and dried his hands. “Hogwarts is, of course, a school and I would be remiss if I barred a motivated student such as yourself from the pursuit of knowledge.”

The Headmaster reached his right hand into the billowy purple sleeve of his robes and pulled out a large leather-bound book that never would have fit there without some kind of magic.

“You are aware of how rare this particular book is,” Headmaster Dumbledore reminded you, “So I’ll trust you to show it the proper care while it’s removed from the library in my name. The students aren’t the only ones who fear the wrath of our esteemed librarian.”

Professor Dumbledore handed you the large, leather-bound book which had the title Magical Mirrors printed on the front cover in big silver letters.

“Use it well,” the old wizard advised, “I’ll come and collect it when you’ve finished your project.” He swept by you with a swish of his purple robes but stopped briefly at the bathroom door, “By the way, Mr. Gaunt, you have ink on your forehead. You might want to wash it off before you find yourself caught up in reading that.”

And then he was gone and you were left blinking in shock at this strange turn of events. When the day started, you had nothing but a name and a book that was out of your reach. But in one trip to the bathroom, you not only learned the mirror’s true name and purpose but acquired the very book that was previously out of your reach.

Despite Madam Pince’s best efforts, you never did make it to lunch that day.

But after spending the afternoon reading and then re-reading everything Grimhilde Königin had compiled about the Mirror of Erised/Desire you felt like you were now prepared to confront Harry about his obsession with the enchanted mirror. You went to dinner and shoveled down your meal to compensate for your missed lunch while you waited for the mirror obsessed Gryffindor to make his appearance.

Sure enough, Ron Weasley once again had to all but drag his best mate into the Great Hall for the evening meal. And even then, Harry just sat there seemingly in a trance as he stared blankly at the empty bit of table in front of him. Ron’s attempts to get Harry to eat something were not just rebuffed but completely ignored. Harry was already notably short and skinny. He didn’t look like he was someone who could afford to regularly skip meals.

Even the twins seemed to notice something was off at this point but their attempts to get the Boy-Who-Lived to interact with them were as successful as their younger brother’s… meaning not successful at all.

Harry eventually stood up and left the table without eating anything after spending what he deemed to be an adequate amount of time in the Great Hall. Ron left his own plate behind and hurried after him.

Wow. Ron Weasley abandoning a meal. The redhead had a very hearty appetite so that was something you thought you’d never see. And that’s when you realized that Ron Weasley was probably the only person in Hogwarts who was more worried about Harry than you. While you watched Harry’s unhealthy obsession grow from the other side of the room, Ron was the one with the front row seat as his best friend became more and more distant and withdrawn over the course of the holidays.

You decided then and there to try and rope the redhead into your mirror intervention. Maybe the shocking sight of you and Weasley presenting a united front would surprise Harry enough that he’d actually listen to you? You got up and shouldered your school bag then tried to look casual as you left the Great Hall. Considering you spent the last two and a half days obsessively occupying the library, most people would likely assume that’s where you were headed.

The two Gryffindors had stopped on the landing atop the main staircase. Ahead of them was the Grand Staircase that you chased Harry up two nights ago. But Harry stopped on this particular landing so he could stare down the library corridor in the direction of the library… or more specifically the hallway that led to the classroom where the Mirror of Erised was being stored.

“I’m just saying you should give it a rest for one night,” Ron was pleading with his unresponsive best friend. “You’re obsessed with that mirror, mate. And…” He trailed off when he spotted you. “What do you want, Gaunt?”

Harry barely glanced in your direction.

“Same thing as you, Weasley,” you replied. “To talk some sense into Potter. You’d know better than anyone… what’s this going to be? His sixth straight sleepless night in front of the mirror?”

“How’d you know about that?” Ron asked.

“...” Harry still had barely acknowledged your presence.

You took advantage of Harry’s dazed inattentiveness and grabbed Weasley’s shoulder so you could turn him away from his friend and have a hushed conversation. “He took me to see the mirror the night after you,” you whispered. “And even then I could tell that something was off. You and I have both confronted him about his obsession with the mirror on our own and we’ve both failed. It’s pretty clear that he’s been entranced. Our only hope to snap him out of it is to present a united front. Can I trust you to have my back on this?”

Ron sent you a short glare. It was blatantly clear that he still didn’t like you. But then he looked back at his best mate and winced as he realized that nothing he tried had worked. It was really a testament of how **** he was that he turned back at you and nodded. “Fine. For Harry’s sake, I’ll work with you on this. He can’t afford to miss any more meals.”

You smirked when you recalled that you were thinking along the same lines back when you saw Harry abandon his dinner in the Great Hall. “My thoughts exactly.”

Now on the same page, you and Ron both turned back to Harry. “So Potter, since you’re so obsessed with that mirror, I thought I’d do some research and figure out what it actually is.” You reached into your school bag and pulled out the leather-bound book you acquired that afternoon. “You wouldn’t believe what I went through to get my hands on this. It’s written by a German witch whose known as the world-wide authority on magical mirrors. Hogwarts has one of the twelve exceptionally rare English translations. I wound up having to shake down the Headmaster for it.” Your rendition of the encounter in the bathroom sounded a lot more impressive than the Headmaster handing you the book while you stood there gaping like a gobsmacked idiot. “And yes, it’s got everything you need to know about the Mirror of Erised.”

“Erised?” Harry repeated the familiar word from the mirror’s inscription. His attention finally seemed to be on you, or more accurately, your and the silver letters on the cover.

“Finally got your attention, did I?” you remarked. Harry didn’t verbally answer but gave a silent nod. “Well, I still don’t know how you’ve avoided being caught out past curfew these past few nights but, since I lack that particular ability, let’s do this now so I’m not stuck explaining to a house full of angry Slytherins why we somehow lost house points while almost everyone was away for the holidays.”

It wasn’t like the out-of-the-way corridor was the ‘Forbidden Corridor’ on the third floor. So there was nothing against the rules about exploring that area of the castle. Especially if it was during the evening before curfew came into effect.

You tucked the book under your arm then stepped past Potter and led the way down the library corridor then veered off to the side and went down the rarely used hallway.

“Come on, Harry,” Ron encouraged him. “I think we’ve found the next best thing to Hermione.”

You remembered that fleeting glimpse of bushy brown hair you briefly spotted in the mirror. Thankfully, due to your research into the mirror and its abilities you were no longer as unsettled about it.

In the interest of preserving your tentative truce with Weasley, you squashed down your natural snarky response which would have gone something along the lines of: ‘It may have escaped your notice, because Granger seems to do most of your thinking for you, Weasley, but Hogwarts is a SCHOOL. That means you’re SUPPOSED TO study in the library and you’re SUPPOSED TO care about House Points. The fact that you don’t actually puts you in the MINORITY of the students here. Maybe if you could do your own research I wouldn’t have had to get involved to keep your friend from wasting away in front of a dangerous magical artifact!’

That probably would’ve started another row with the hot-headed Gryffindor. So you bit your tongue at the notion that you were a ‘replacement Hermione’ and cast a quick glance back and saw that Ron had at least done his part in getting Harry to follow you. Then again, it probably wouldn’t have been difficult to convince Harry to pay an extra visit to the object of his obsession.

But it wasn’t lost on you that both Potter AND Weasley had compared you to the bushy-haired bookworm.

The familiar suit of armor stood against the wall ahead of you. As usual, the empty helmet was facing your direction and followed you as you walked by. You gave the enchanted armor a jaunty salute before you pulled open the unlocked door and went inside.

The Mirror of Desire was propped against the wall in the same spot from last time. You walked over to the mirror and were once again treated to the magical reflection of your older self surrounded by his family.

Your ‘future children’ still looked like you and your mirror-wife was once again sporting a familiar head of bushy brown hair. It didn’t bother you this time because now you’d done your research. The reason for your ‘future wife’s’ initial ambiguous identity was because of your young age. You were only thirteen. Your future was still open-ended. Your wife could be anyone. She currently had bushy brown hair because you just thought about Granger before walking into the room. You admired the fact that the muggleborn witch was far more intelligent than the majority of your classmates and it wasn’t like you hated the girl.

But the reality of the situation, as opposed to the mirror’s illusion, was that you wouldn’t start to think seriously about a potential wife for a good few years. And barring the crush you still harbored for a certain Slytherin prefect you didn’t really know the first thing about romantic love.

As if spurred by your most recent thought, the woman in the mirror’s features changed and she suddenly had familiar auburn hair and sapphire blue eyes. You smiled in amusement at the sight of the older you and older Gemma Farley surrounded by your children and shook your head.

Now that you were better versed in the enchanted mirror’s abilities, you knew that Gemma’s -- and anyone else’s -- appearance in the mirror was in no way a vision of the future. Malfoy seemed to think you had a shot with the older girl so maybe it wasn’t completely out of the realm of possibility. But your true heart’s desire was to continue and restore your family legacy and bring about the Return of the Gaunt Family. The person you shared that particular journey with was yet to be determined.

The door opened and you were reminded of why you were there and moved to stand with your back toward the mirror. This would conveniently block Potter’s view of his magical reflection and would hopefully leave him more open to reason.

“Let’s start with the inscription, shall we?” you began once the two Gryffindors were standing in front of you. “After all, that’s how I started my search. If you read the words as they are… it’s nonsense. BUT… if you look at it in a mirror... they’ll be reflected backwards... so once you fix the spacing… it’ll eventually read ‘I show not your face but your hearts desire’.”

You watched as Harry and Ron mouthed the backwards words as they read them off of the mirror’s frame. Once they were done, you cracked open your book to the page you bookmarked, “The Mirror of Erised, or the Mirror of Desire, as it’s more accurately called, is called that because it shows us…” You looked down and read from the book, “‘the deepest, most **** desires of our hearts.’” You looked back up and addressed the two Gryffindors in front of you. “There’s no lying to the Mirror of Desire. It knows you better than you do. It sees straight into your heart. The happiest man in the world could look in this mirror and he would see himself just as he is… because his heart desires for nothing. The rest of us aren’t that fortunate.” You paused for a moment to let that sink in before you prepared to take the lesson in a more personal direction. “Harry, you grew up an orphan who never knew your family beyond those muggle relatives that I have yet to hear you speak fondly of. So when you look in the mirror, you see your real family.”

Harry nodded then attempted to glance around you at the mirror. Ron stepped away from his friend and moved so he was standing beside you in order to further block Harry’s view of his enchanted reflection.

You tilted your head toward the tall redhead beside you, “Now, Weasley is kind of the opposite. He grew up surrounded by his loving family. So, Ron, what did you see in the mirror instead?”

“I just saw me,” Ron admitted, “But I was older, good looking, I was Head Boy and Quidditch Captain. And I won the House Cup and the Quidditch Cup.”

You nodded. You already interpreted Weasley’s vision since Harry had previously given you a brief description of what his friend saw. “So for someone who grew up in the shadow of five very talented older brothers… Ron sees himself standing alone in the spotlight as the most accomplished of the lot. It’s not that he doesn’t love his family… his heart’s desire is to be seen... to be successful... to be special.”

You paused to let that sink in. Ron nodded and seemed to agree with your interpretation.

“And then there’s me,” you continued in the interest of sharing and putting all of you on equal footing, “I’m an orphan like you, Potter… and a month ago I might have seen my parents in the mirror too. I still don’t even know my father’s name. But on Christmas morning, I learned that my mother was a murderous **** Eater who spent her free time lighting buildings on fire. My father and the rest of the Gaunts are of a similar ilk. And the less said about my relative who gave you that scar… the better. Those aren’t the type of people who would appear in anyone’s idea of a happy vision. Instead, I see myself with my future family. I’ve got a wife and four kids. With them I can make the Gaunt name can finally stand for something respectable again and bring about the Return of the Gaunt Family.”

Ron looked over at you and seemed genuinely curious. “Who’s your wife?”

Of course he’d ask that…

“It doesn’t matter,” you said, “She’ll briefly share the features of a girl I like but it changes. That’s because the future isn’t set in stone and at this point she could be anyone.” Now it was time to go on the offensive. “Harry, you and I both see people who don’t exist outside of the mirror. Your parents and grandparents are dead… and my future children haven’t been born yet. But that’s just the thing, isn’t it? What Weasley and I have in common is that we both see an image of a wonderful potential future. We both know that what we’ve seen will never come to be if we stay in this room staring at our reflection all day. But unfortunately, the same thing goes for you. No matter how long you stare at the mirror… it won’t bring your family back.”

Harry flinched. It was a heavy-handed statement but it needed to be said.

“Harry, your parents may have been magical but you were raised as a muggle,” you stated, “That means you didn’t get all the warnings that children born in the magical world get from their parents and guardians when it comes to magical artifacts. No matter how lifelike ghosts or the people in a magical portrait look… it doesn’t change the fact that they’re not really alive.”

“You know Gaunt and I don’t agree on much, Harry,” Ron pointed out, “But this time he’s right. Like he said… the mirror sees into your heart. It knows you better than you do. Dad always says ‘never trust anything that can think for itself if you can’t see where it keeps its brain’. He works in the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office in the Ministry. He’s an expert in protecting people who don’t know any better from dangerous magical artifacts.”

“The mirror isn’t dangerous!” Harry insisted.

That was the perfect setup for your cautionary tale. “Maybe I should tell you the story of Varrick the Vanished?” You flipped to the next page of Magical Mirrors where the tragic tale of Varrick the Vanished was written in its entirety. “Varrick the Vanished was originally called Varrick the Vanquisher for his defeat of the Dark Wizard Merwyn the Malicious.”

“I know him.” Ron interjected, “Merwyn’s on a Chocolate Frog Card. He was credited with creating a bunch of unpleasant jinxes and hexes. Funny that Merwyn got a card while the wizard who defeated him didn’t.”

“That’s the whole point,” you explained, “Varrick defeated the infamous Dark Wizard before he was thirty. And then he went on to defeat a number of dangerous monsters and was seen as a hero and a savior.” You paused and gave Harry a very pointed look in the hopes that he’d see the parallels. “He was considered to be on par with the likes of the Hogwarts Founders - Salazar Slytherin, Godric Gryffindor, Rowena Ravenclaw, and Helga Hufflepuff. The sky was the limit for the young wizard. If things had gone differently, one of the Hogwarts houses might have a different name. Or maybe there’d be a fifth house? But that didn’t happen because Varrick the Vanquisher discovered the Mirror of Desire.” You paused for a lengthy beat to allow the tension to build then continued, “The mirror showed Varrick the image of him reunited with his lost love who had been killed during Merwyn’s reign of terror. That’s what motivated Varrick to vanquish Merywn. The young wizard was driven mad by the image of something that could no longer be. The mirror was the only place that he and his lost love could be together again. He became obsessed with it and refused to leave its sight out of fear that his lost love would disappear and this time would be gone forever. He attacked anyone who tried to separate him from the mirror and he eventually took it and hid himself from the rest of the world. He was discovered two decades later… with his withered skeleton’s empty eye sockets still locked on the mirror’s glass.”

You turned your book toward Harry and showed him the graphic sketch of the skeleton obsessively staring into the Mirror of Erised.

“A young wizard with all the potential in the world… vanished from history and instead wasted away in front of the Mirror of Desire…” You paused again and were pleased to see that Harry had indeed made the comparison between himself and Varrick. “The Mirror of Desire has existed for over a millenium. Varrick wasn’t the only one who wasted away in front of it. Only the most notable. There haven’t been any new sightings of it in the last century but I’d wager that’s because it’s been hidden away here at Hogwarts for over a hundred years.”

Ron’s voice was soft and heartfelt as he picked up after you and addressed his friend, “Mate, you aren’t eating… you’re barely sleeping… your hair’s even messier than it was before… and if those bags under your eyes get any darker people will start to confuse you for a raccoon.”

“No one here wants the Boy-Who-Lived to become the Boy-Who-Vanished,” you imparted.

“Your friends are right, Harry,” a new voice joined the conversation.

You blinked in surprise and stared past Harry at none other than Headmaster Dumbledore who was seated upon one of the desks that had been pushed back against the far end of the room. He was wearing the same startling purple robes from your earlier encounter in the bathroom by the Great Hall but, even dressed in such an over-the-top manner, you hadn’t noticed him. You were too caught up in your intervention attempt that you hadn’t paid the slightest bit of attention to anything else in the room.

Ron’s gasp of alarm and Harry’s deer-in-floodlights expression reassured you that they had been similarly oblivious.

“It doesn’t do to dwell on dreams and forget to live,” the Headmaster intoned once Harry spun around to face him.

Perhaps you shouldn’t have been surprised to see the Headmaster. He informed you back in the bathroom that he removed Magical Mirrors from the library for a project. You were so relieved to actually obtain the long sought-after tome that you hadn’t stopped to think that the ‘little project’ likely involved the very mirror you were researching. How many other magical mirrors could there be in Hogwarts? Add in the fact that he pointed out the inky letters you smudged onto your forehead then it was no wonder he knew exactly what was going on.

“So I take it your ‘little project’ has to do with the Mirror of Erised,” you addressed the Headmaster.

“Indeed, Mr. Gaunt,” Professor Dumbledore replied. “I brought the mirror from its previous hiding place to this unused, out-of-the-way classroom in the hopes that I could experiment with its enchantments while the vast majority of the student body was away. The last thing I wanted was for a young student to stumble across it and become ensnared by it, much like the young wizard you just mentioned.” The Wizengamot was still out on whether that ‘young wizard’ was Varrick the Vanished or Harry Potter the Boy-Who-Almost-Wasted-Away-In-Front-Of-A-Magical-Mirror. “But it seems that in my old age I overlooked young students’ penchant for exploration.”

“It’s before curfew,” you were quick to point out, “And while this hallway is seldom used, this area isn’t expressly out of bounds like the Forbidden Corridor or the Forbidden Forest… so being here isn’t against the rules.”

“You are quite correct, Mr. Gaunt,” the Headmaster agreed, “In fact, I believe you and Mr. Weasley should be commended for your efforts. Ten points to both Gryffindor and Slytherin for putting aside your personal differences in order to help a friend in need.”

Ten house Points from the Headmaster! You looked over at Ron and the two of you shared a brief nod. Working together had been the right decision.

“In the interest of safety,” Professor Dumbledore continued, “I will be moving the mirror to a new home tomorrow and I ask all of you not to go looking for it again.” He said ‘all of you’ but his twinkling gaze was locked on Harry. “But if you ever do run across it again, you will now be prepared and properly forewarned.”

Harry nodded and seemed resigned to the fact that, like it or not, he would be taking no more late night trips to see his family in the Mirror of Erised.

“And Mr. Gaunt,” the Headmaster said as he shifted his attention to you, “If you are done with Magical Mirrors… I would quite like to have it back. It’s still removed from the library in my name and I have already expressed to you how **** I am to suffer the wrath of Hogwarts’ esteemed librarian.”

“Of course, sir,” you replied as you walked over and handed the exceptionally rare book to the wizard who had loaned it to you only a few short hours ago. Your mission to save Harry from the mirror had been a success. You would have liked to do some further reading on the subject of magical mirrors - Foe Glass, in particular, seemed interesting - but the Headmaster definitely had the stronger claim to it.

With nothing else left to do or say, you looked back at Harry and Ron and gave them a nod then left the room. As expected, the suit of armor stationed outside was looking in your direction as you came out.

“At ease, soldier,” you fired off a quick salute to the enchanted armor. “Mission accomplished.”

You continued past down the hallway and back toward the more habitable parts of the castle. After retallying your total of House Points, you realized that seventy-two of the little green emeralds in the Slytherin Hourglass were in there because of you. You hadn’t set out to help Harry in the hopes of being rewarded but the ten points you got from the Headmaster were an unexpected and very high profile entry in your self-imposed game of House Point Bingo. You mentally reminded yourself that Professor Sprout was the seventh and final professor you needed to earn points from in order to cross the board and complete your game. You’d have to approach the Hufflepuff Head of House about earning those points when the next term started. Maybe you could do some extra work in one of the Herbology greenhouses...

“Hey Gaunt!” You stopped and turned around to see Ron standing in front of the suit of armor. He hesitated for a moment then finally spoke. “Er… thanks. Harry was driving me spare. And it was probably you making like Hermione and spending all that time in the library looking for that book that tipped off Dumbledore. I don’t know if anything we said actually got through to Harry. But in the end; Dumbledore’s moving the mirror, none of us got in trouble, and we even got House Points for working together. I guess that means it all worked out. So er… thanks for your help. I don’t think Harry’s relatives care very much about him so it was good to have someone else looking out for him while Hermione and Neville weren’t here to help.”

“It was the right thing to do,” you replied with a casual shrug. “But do me a favor and quit comparing me to Granger. She’s not the only one in this school that’s capable of researching important topics.” That certainly sounded a lot more civil than your initial unvoiced response to him comparing you to the bushy-haired bookworm. “And if seeing his family is so important to Harry then maybe you could try tracking down some proper pictures. You’ve got a big family. One of your Weasley relatives is bound to have a few pictures squirreled away somewhere.”

The classroom door opened and Harry slipped out. Ron almost immediately rounded on his friend, “What’d you stay to ask him?”

“Oh, I asked him what he saw in the mirror,” Harry answered.

“Pretty personal, Potter,” you remarked while idly enjoying popping the three Ps. “You just asked the man what the deepest, most **** desire of his heart is.”

“I doubt he was telling the truth either way,” Harry admitted. “He said he saw himself wearing woolen socks. And that one can never have enough socks. He didn’t get any for Christmas.”

Unless there was something special about the socks or they were made for him by someone dear to him then you couldn’t think of any other reason why Headmaster Albus Dumbledore’s deepest, most heartfelt desire would be for a pair of woolen socks.

“Anyway, thanks Marvolo,” Harry continued, “You too, Ron. I realise that I was a little obsessed with the mirror.”

“A little?” Ron repeated. “The last few days you ignored everything but that mirror.”

“Yeah… sorry about that,” Harry apologized.

“Like I just told Weasley,” you imparted, “If you’re so **** to see your family, try asking around for some pictures. Longbottom might have some. I think his parents and yours were around the same age.”

Harry nodded then bit his lip for a moment before he spoke, “Still, I’m not used to people caring about me. And it’s nice to know there’s at least one Slytherin in this school who has a heart.”

“We war orphans should look out for each other,” you remarked. “Even if our deceased parents fought on opposite sides.”

You felt a swell of accomplishment as you continued on your way and a small sense of hope that your tenuous truce with the Gryffindors had grown a little bit stronger.

Marvolo Gaunt House Point Ledger

Albus Dumbledore: +10

Current Total: +71

Points awarded by: SS, RH, QQ, MM, FF, +AD