Dumbledore smiled fondly at the eleven year old wizard who was leaving the room, desires soothed. Quite an impetuous child. Who else would have so bluntly asked what he desired most? Turning around, he stood in front of the Mirror.
He knew what he would see. It was always the same. A tear wound its way down his face to become lost in his beard as he stared at his heart's desire. A blond man was standing beside him – together against the world.
"Oh Gellert." Dumbledore murmured, reaching his hand out before being stopped by the cold glass. "Why must what we want the most be so impossible to obtain?" Closing his eyes, he rested his head against the mirror. He just wanted to see his love for a little bit longer.