Rating: PG

Disclaimer: Not mine.

A/N: Much thanks goes to franthephoenix and bohemian charm for their kind words on the first draft.

Heart's Desire

Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi.

I show not your face but your heart's desire.

I reflect what I see within you.  Not the truth.  Nor a lie.  But your wish; your deepest desire.

Dreams and wishes do come true, you know.  Perhaps not in the form that one might expect, but they do come true. 

Throughout the years, many have faced me – I have seen the hearts of children, adolescents, adults…  And I remember every single one. 

There was the famous Harry Potter, the Boy-who-lived, Saviour of the Wizarding World – I recall seeing him in his first year.  He saw in me, his parents standing beside him, alive as they once were.  His had received his wish four years later, when he stumbled upon his Potions professor's pensieve.  He saw his parents, alive, speaking…but the circumstances were certainly not what he had expected.  But his wish did come true, did it not?

Then there was his friend, Ronald Weasley.  That night, during his first year, when he and Harry found me, I showed him standing by himself, the Quidditch Cup held aloft in his left hand, a Head Boy badge pinned below his right shoulder.  Six years later, his wand-hand gripped the golden Cup, his badge rested above his heart, and deep within himself, he bitterly acknowledged that he was only second choice to be Head Boy and that his best friend would have been the one holding the trophy if he did not decline the honour of being the Captain.  Even though his childhood dream had come true, Ron knew that he would always be second-rate.  

And I remember Sirius Black sitting in front of me, hoping for something impossible.  Or so he thought; after all, nothing is impossible.  His reflection showed a joyful man, reunited with his best friend.  A few years later, he crossed the Veil between the dead and the living, and rejoined with James Potter. 

Countless people come and go; some remain and drive themselves crazy with dreams that seem so tangible, yet so out of reach; some look at their reflection once and never return.

The many who have their dreams fulfilled, but not in the manner that they had hoped, often accuse me of leading them astray and showing lies.  That is not true -- I do not understand these human feelings lurking behind the dreams and wishes.

I reflect only what I see and nothing more.  I am merely an echo of the truth.  

Fin.