Chapter 89

'Her eyes look like mine, Harry thought, edging a little closer to the mirror. Bright green, exactly the same shade, and then he noticed that she was crying, smiling, but crying a bit at the same time. The tall, thin, black-haired man standing next to her put his arm around her. He wore glasses, and his hair was very untidy. It stuck up at the back, just as Harry's did.

Harry was so close to the mirror now that his nose was nearly touching that of his reflection.

"Mom?" he whispered, "Dad?"

They just looked at him, smiling. And slowly, Harry looked into the faces of the other people in the mirror, and saw other pairs of green eyes, other slightly crooked noses, and even a little old man who looked as though he had Harry's knobby knees.

For the first time in his life, Harry was looking at his family.

The Potters and the Evanses smiled and waved at Harry. He stared hungrily back at them, his hands pressed flat against the glass as though he was hoping to fall right through it and reach them. He had a powerful kind of ache inside him, half joy and half terrible sadness.

How long he stood there, he didn't know. The reflections did not fade and he looked and looked until a sudden noise outside in the corridor brought him back to his senses. He couldn't stay here, he had to find his way back to bed. He tore his eyes away from his mother's face, whispered, "I'll come back," and hurried from the room.

The next day he spent entirely restless and in the night he came back.

The third night, he found his way more quickly than before. He had been running so fast the soles of his shoes were worn. He slammed the door shut and not seeing anything else, made his way to the mirror.

And there were his mother and father smiling at him again, and one of his grandfathers nodding happily. Harry sank down to sit on the floor in front of the mirror. There was nothing to stop him from staying here all night with his family. So what if they were a reflection? He could finally see them. Tell them how much he'd always thought of them and pictured them in his head and never truly believed in the lies Dursleys had told him.

A flicker of mana behind him forced him out of his thoughts. A window popped up.

Area Sense : Someone is behind you

A voice came from behind him.

"So…back again, Harry?"

Harry felt as though his insides had turned to ice. He looked behind him. Sitting on one of the desks by the wall, with his legs swinging back and forth, was none other than the wizened grey haired figure of Albus Dumbledore. He must have been invisible…or maybe Harry had walked straight past him, so desperate to get to the mirror he hadn't noticed him.

Ping!

Skill levelled up!

Area Sense, Lv-2 (0%)

Allows the user to get a sense of the area around him/her. A more permanent version of the Supersensory Charm. The higher the level the more information is provided.

Effective until 30 feet.

"I didn't see you, sir." Harry finally said warily.

"Strange how nearsighted being invisible can make you," said Dumbledore, and Harry was both relieved and worried to see that he was smiling.

"So," said Dumbledore, slipping off the desk to walk over sit on the floor with Harry, "you, like hundreds before you Harry, have discovered the delights of the Mirror of Erised."

"I didn't know it was called that, Sir." Harry lied.

"But I expect you've realized by now what it does?" Dumbledore said.

"It…" Something told Harry to be honest this time. "It shows me my family sir."

"Ah. I wish it was something as benign as that Harry. But it's a bit more than that." Dumbledore said, peering into the mirror, as if seeing his own desires in there.

"Do-do you see your family in the mirror too sir?" Harry asked curiously.

"I suppose I do. In a way. A curse of living as long as I have Harry, is that you must have just as long a list of loved ones to miss. I can only feel saddened that someone as young as you must bear a burden even I struggle with," Dumbledore said after a small pause, and Harry felt a bit sorry for the man.

"I…never knew any of them." Harry said, lifting his hand up to where her mother was and placing it on the mirror, "I wish I did."

There was a moment's silence before Dumbledore spoke.

"Then perhaps this old man can help you. I didn't know many from your mother's family, but I was familiar with most of the Potter family at some point or the other. Describe to me who you see Harry, and I will tell you of them the best I know."

And the old man and boy sat cross legged there in front of the mirror, the boy describing to the headmaster how each person looked, and the headmaster telling stories of how he knew them. Of how he had made fun of Harry's grandfather Charles Potter once and he had in return hexed him into vomiting seagulls, after which they'd become fast friends. And how Charles's father Henry, who had been a widower, had always been kind to him. He spoke of Dorea and how much she loved flying, which was quite against the traditions of women not flying in those days, and he spoke of Lily's passion for Charms and James's talent for mischief and Transfiguration.

It was a wonder of ironies that in each in their mind they were wondering if the kindness and good they saw in each other was a just a façade to hide something darker

After they had finished talking, they lapsed into silence for a while. Harry looked at Dumbledore, whose slightly wet eyes saw something else in the mirror, something just as personal as Harry. Harry decided not to ask what.

After a while, Dumbledore looked at him curiously, "What do you think of what the Mirror of Erised shows us all, Harry? Everyone who has seen it has had a unique opinion on what it does. I do wish to hear your interpretation of it" said Dumbledore gently.

Thinking about it a bit, Harry said slowly, carefully choosing his words, "Well the inscription is a reversed sentence which says that it shows us what we want…whatever we want…however…I haven't seen myself in the mirror get full grades in Charms or Transfiguration, so it must be more specific than that. Why my parents and not me winning the House cup?" he mused.

"Brilliantly reasoned," said Dumbledore "You've hit it just short of the mark. It shows us nothing more or less than the deepest, most desperate desire of our hearts. You, who have never known your family, see them standing around you."

He sighed.

"However . . . this mirror will give you neither knowledge or truth. Men have wasted away before it, entranced by what they have seen, or been driven mad, not knowing if what it shows is real or even possible."

Harry stared as the Harry in the mirror played peek-a-boo with the little child in his mother's arms as Hedwig flew out from the background and alighted on his mother's shoulder.

"The Mirror will be moved to a new home tomorrow, Harry, and I ask you not to go looking for it again. If you ever do run across it, you will now be prepared. It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live, remember that. Now, why don't you put that admirable cloak back on and get off to bed?" Dumbledore said with a soft smile.

Questions flew about in Harry's head. Had Dumbledore been here every night Harry had been here? Had he seen him at his most vulnerable? The outpour of emotions that seeing his parents had brought out in him was proving a strain on him, and he needed some respite.

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