I own nothing…Harry Potter is J.K. Rowlings.
I finally revealed myself to Harry tonight. It was difficult for me to break in on his happiness, but I knew that I needed to explain some things to him. It broke my heart, sitting there watching him watch his parents. The look in his eyes...I do not know. It was one of the hardest things I have had to do in a very long time. When I spoke, he could barely keep his eyes off of the Mirror. Such is its power; it can make one doubt everything in ones life except what is happening in the glass.
He seemed to be somewhat embarrassed that I had seen him watching his family. He does not know how much I cared for James and Lily, for his grandparents on his fathers side...James was one of my closest friends, despite our age difference. Age rarely means anything to me, as you well know.
I did not wish to simply tell Harry the purpose of the Mirror; that is not my way and never has been. We discussed his vision as well as Ronald Weasleys. When we had finally voiced the function of the Mirror, Harry looked ashamed. I could tell that he felt vulnerable; he had just admitted to me that his deepest, darkest desire was to have family and have love. I could have told him that I love him as a son or grandson, and that you do as well, but I did not. I did not wish to make him feel more uncomfortable than he did already. I will tell him someday, perhaps when he is angry at me. It would be a way to bring him back to the present to see that I am not against him.
I suggested that we both return to bed. As we were leaving, Harry stopped me. He requested to ask me a question. I knew what was coming, and a million thoughts ran through my head. He asked me what I saw in the mirror.
I must admit that I was not truthful. I was not entirely untruthful either, but I kept much from him. I told him that I saw myself holding a pair of thick, woolen socks. I told him that all I ever received for Christmas was books. Of course, one Christmas many years ago I received the best gift I could ever hope to...you. But such information is not meant for eleven-year-old boys.
I certainly did not lie out of malice. No, rather I left out information that he would not understand anyway. He could, in time, and if he was told all the background. But my vision in the Mirror of Erised is far too complicated to describe to anyone but you. Harry would have to know about the prophecy, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, Peter Pettigrew...he would have to know exactly what is at stake in this ongoing war with Voldemort...what the Order has gone through to fight him. He would have to know about my love for him, and...my love of you.
I see myself holding socks, yes. But that is not of importance. I see all the members of the Order, alive. I see Harry standing with Lily and James, Sirius Black next to them. I still do not believe that he would betray James. Time will tell. Sirius is next to Remus Lupin, and Peter Pettigrew is not there. Though I can see no sign that Voldemort is not there, I see no sign that he is there either. There is a feeling of happiness and peace in the air that is almost tangible...Voldemort is gone. I see a ring on your finger, and all those present are aware of my arm around your waist. I can hold you in public. You turn to look at me, and I kiss you. We do not have to be careful anymore; we can be as open about our love as we wish to. There is no danger; Voldemort cannot use our love against us.
Even now, hours later, I can still see the happiness evident in every face. I can see your beautiful face looking up into mine. I can feel your skin against mine.
I hope that such bliss is not as impossible as it seems to me. Peace seems to be a goal too distant to be reached. But I still hold onto my vision, hoping that it will come true one day. Until then, I will have to be satisfied with what I have. It is not difficult. In spite of the horrors in the world, I am happy. In some ways, I have never been happier. I thank you for that.
Thank you also for letting me explain my thoughts to you. You do not know how comforting it is to know that there is always someone there to listen to you, especially someone more intelligent, understanding, thoughtful, decent, and beautiful than any other woman in the world.
I love you, Minerva.
