A/N-I'm a little proud of this. Reviewssss.
Disclaimer-Not mine guys.
It wasn't a lie when you really thought about it. Well, at least the way Albus thought about it. Socks were an article of variety-purple, red, green, blue, dotted, plaid, paisley. One could go his entire life never wearing the same socks more than once. It would be a terrible waste, but it was possible nonetheless.
Albus would creep down to the mirror in the dead of night many times over the years. Every once in a while he'd get caught, giving the same excuse each time-"I see socks when I look into the mirror. Just checking to make sure they haven't turned orange on me." He'd joke around, shrugging the question off for a simple reason. Albus never knew what he'd see when he looked into the mirror.
The first time he looked into the mirror, he saw a flashback to his childhood. It was himself as a teenager, with a six-year-old Ariana. It was the day before she changed. Albus' mother had to take Aberforth to the healers, leaving Albus to baby sit. He had never been too good with children before, making the task unpleasant.
He returned to the living room after making himself a cup of tea. As he arrived, he saw Ariana sitting quietly on the floor flipping through a children's book. She had a mellow, childlike aura around her that at that moment melted Albus' heart. He gently placed his tea on the coffee table and sat beside his sister. Ariana looked up as he sat, smiling cheerfully.
"Hi Albie. Wanna read with me?" Ariana held up a copy of The Tales of Beedle the Bard. Her favorite book.
Albus smiled. "I'd be glad to." He took the book from her. Slowly, they read the entire book together-Albus using silly voices, Ariana shrieking with glee beside him. It would be the last time Albus ever saw Ariana happy. And through the years, the insanity, and her death, Albus would remember her like this, frozen in time, surrounded by childlike magic.
Other times, Albus would be greeted by his teenage self and Gellert Grindelwald. It was late June, a few weeks after they first met. Albus was stricken with Gellert in the first moment of their meeting. He had an intelligent, ambitious nature, the type that Albus had always admired and craved. Sadly, there was a desperate lacking in Godric's Hollow at the time. Hence, Albus was ecstatic when he arrived.
He was walking through the graveyard. Albus had done this in the past to clear his head. There was nothing better for thinking than a nice, brisk walk, and graveyards were always perfectly solemn, abandoned and historic. Today, however, it was different. Today he looked for Gellert at the most historic place he knew.
He felt like a fool, a stalker, of course. But he just couldn't turn back. He was drawn to Gellert. And so he walked forward.
As Albus rounded a stone, Gellert came into view. He was stretched out, books, old newspapers fanned out around him. He sat in the middle of his studies, staring intently at the gravestone of Ignotus Peverell.
Albus smiled as he walked up behind Gellert. Kicking him gently in the back-"Should have figured on running into you here." Good Albus-very smooth.
Gellert grinned as Albus sank down next to him. "I knew I'd see you here at one point of another. I could tell you'd understand all this." Gellert looked around. "Our history shows the way of the future, Albus. These graves hold the secrets for a greater purpose-a greater good." Gellert looked back over to Albus. "Well, at least I won't be in this alone now."
They sat there for hours, reading through the texts, rustling the papers, or just staring at the graves in awe. The image never left Albus. It was when the friendship has formed, before Albus knew what would come of it. His choice that day chose his future. His choice never stopped haunting him. He wished everything could go back to that one, perfect day. The mirror refused to forget.
"Another Albus, another!"
He was twelve. His brother would sneak into his room in the dead of the night. There, the Dumbledore brothers would bond. Albus spoke of his adventure at school-the mischief, magic and glory- as Aberforth, aged ten, listened in awe.
Albus smiled. "Alright. One more. But hush this time, or Mother will hear."
Aberforth nodded.
Albus continued. "Elphias Doge and I-remember, the one from the Bloody Baron story? Well, we were out after hours. It's the only time when one can wander the castle without interruption. We were walking along, gazing into random classrooms unknown to us. After a few minutes, it was clear we weren't alone. We blew out our candles and began running. A lantern lit behind us and a voice called out 'Who's out there?' It was Professor Flamel. Now, the teacher had seemed to like me a great deal, but it was early in the year and I wasn't about the risk it. We ran and ran. Eventually we hid in a broom closet that appeared out of nowhere. Quite roomy for a broom closet, mind you. Anyway, by that time Flamel was close and saw us enter. He slowed his run and approached the closet. My heart raced-we were sure to be caught. But the strangest thing happened-there was no outside door."
Aberforth gasped. "How did you do that, Al?"
Albus smiled. "I didn't, and neither did Elphias. It must have been the castle. All I know is that Flamel stood out there, banging on the door for half an hour, and he never found us."
It was back when Aberforth looked up to his brother, aspired to be just like Albus.It was before he lost reason to believe in his brother, when Albus deserved his brothers affection. How he wished he still had that admiration and respect-but the mirror was as close as her ever got.
And then there were nights like tonight. Nights when Albus looked into the mirror and saw nothing., not even himself. On these nights the room appeared as if Albus had never entered-calm, still and simple. Albus didn't understand why he saw this. He never would figure it out.
Then again, how many of us actually understand our dreams?