The Heart of Desire

by Rapunzel


Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Author's Note: The idea for this fic came to me after I watched The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring for about the third time. g I thought it would be interesting to see what was the truth behind the Mirror of Erised and the conversation which took place about it from Dumbledore's point of view. Be warned, though, that it is rather abstract, and future happenings and character ships are implied. This may be a prologue, and it may not, I haven't decided. Please review!

This fic is dedicated to Hotshot, for being a better person to me than anyone else ever has been. g

"So lately, been wondering
Who will be there to take my place
When I'm gone you'll need love
To light the shadows on your face
If a great wave should fall and fall upon us all
Then between the sand and stone
Could you make it on your own?"
--The Calling, "Wherever You Will Go"

It was midnight, and all of Hogwarts was supposedly asleep. Albus Dumbledore chuckled, knowing that one or two mischief-makers were certainly still up and about.

He put on his cloak, muttered, "Invisiriam," and left his office for his nightly stroll around the castle. Albus walked peacefully for a while, but gradually, his thoughts began to stray to Lord Voldemort, and to young Harry Potter.

Tom, oh Tom, he thought, what have you done to yourself? What have you done to those that are innocent and those that you once loved? Albus thought of Harry and the scar that would forever grace Harry's forehead, and of the parents Harry would never have. All of a sudden he felt very old.

"I'm freezing! Let's forget it and go back."

"No! I know it's here somewhere."

Albus smiled, amused. The voices no doubt belonged to Harry and his friend, the Weasley boy. Ron, was it?

"It's here - just here - yes!"

The Mirror of Erised.

A cold chill seemed to descend upon Albus, until he shook himself sternly. They are only children, he told himself. They cannot know, they will not know, the full power of the Mirror of Erised. Evil lies not in their hearts . . . yet.

He followed them into the room as silently as possible. Harry must have dropped the cloak, for Ron and he were suddenly revealed. Harry ran to the mirror, and plastered himself as close to his reflection as possible. "See?" he whispered.

"I can't see anything," Ron said, sounding impatient.

"Look! Look at them all . . . there are loads of them. . . ."

"I can only see you."

"Look in it properly, go on, stand where I am."

Ron moved closer the mirror. Albus stood silently behind him.

"Look at me!" Ron exclaimed.

"Can you see all your family standing around you?"

Albus let out a small sigh of relief. It's all he sees, he does not know, it's only his parents he longs for. The secret is safe, so far.

"No - I'm alone - but I'm different - I look older - and I'm Head Boy!"

"What?"

"I am - I'm wearing the badge like Bill used to - and I'm holding the house cup and the Quidditch cup - I'm Quidditch captain, too!"

Rather ambitious, isn't he? Dumbledore mused. He smiled down at the two boys, ignorant of his presence. So young, so innocent. They know nothing yet, and I hope they never will . . .

Ron whirled around and stared at Harry excitedly. "Do you think this mirror shows the future?"

Oh, but if it did, young Weasley, if only it did . . .

"How can it? All my family are dead - let me have another look - "

More have looked in it than you know, and more have seen worse than you see . . .

"You had it to yourself all last night, give me a bit more time."

"You're only holding the Quidditch cup, what's interesting about that? I want to see my parents."

"Don't push me - "

Already it begins to divide them, and over such trivial matters, Albus thought, sadly. For a moment he was young again, but in the midst of war. Grindelwald was drawing near, but his strength was running out. And for a moment, he saw, once again, the millions of dead bodies that littered the field where he had once played Quidditch . . .

"Quick!" someone cried, and for a wild moment, he thought it was Cor, leader of their small rebel party. But Cor was years and years ago . . . Albus stood, chest rising and falling rapidly. Memories are not easily gotten rid of, alas!

All of a sudden the boys stopped bickering and disappeared once more. Mrs. Norris, Filch's cat, appeared. Albus smiled. The boys were breathing incredibly loudly. No doubt Mrs. Norris heard them, but she left, shortly.

"This isn't safe - she might have gone for Filch, I bet she heard us. Come on."

They left.

Dumbledore stood for a moment, and then strode purposefully across to the room, facing the mirror, but looking down.

When will you be brave enough to face your heart's desire, again, Albus? the voice mocked him inside his head.

When?

This time, Albus waited for them in the room, determined to explain the Mirror to them when they arrived. Soon enough, he heard footsteps, but it was only Harry this time.

The mirror has a hold on only him, he thought. I hope he shall not fall, as so many have done before him.

"So - back again, Harry?"

Harry turned around, startled. "I - I didn't see you, sir."

Albus smiled. He is so young. It hurts to look upon him, sometimes. It has been so long since I felt that way, only afraid of a teacher catching me breaking school rules.

Too long.

"So," he said, sliding off the desk he had been sitting on. Albus seated himself next to Harry. "You, like hundreds before you - " Thousands, he thought, grimly, " - have discovered the delights of the Mirror of Erised."

"I didn't know it was called that, sir."

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

"It - well - it shows me my family - "

Be glad that it is the only thing that it shows.

"And it showed your friend Ron himself as Head Boy."

"How did you know - ?"

"I don't need a cloak to become invisible," Albus said, indulgently. "Now, can you think what the Mirror of Erised shows us all?"

Harry shook his head.

"Let me explain. The happiest man on Earth would be able to use the Mirror of Erised like a normal mirror, that is, he would look into it and see himself exactly as he is. Does that help?" Does such a man exist, anymore?

"It shows us what we want . . . whatever we want . . . "

"Yes, and no," Albus said, quietly. "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. Ronald Weasley, who has always been overshadowed by his brothers, sees himself standing alone, the best of all of them. However, this mirror will give us 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.

"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 on that admirable cloak back on and get off to bed?" If only I could follow my own advice.

"Sir - Professor Dumbledore? Can I ask you something?"

"Obviously, you've just done so. You may ask me one more thing, however."

"What do you see when you look in the mirror?"

Dumbledore froze. For a split second, he thought again of the cries and moans that had streaked the battlefield and hung heavy in the air. He heard their screams once more, rising far above into the sky. He remembered standing there, drenched in blood, some his own, some belonging to his comrades. He remembered sinking to the ground in defeat, ready to die, when Cor had come and saved him.

"You're our best man, Dumbledore, we can't lose you!"

"Oh, Cor, what is there to live for? Virginia is dead, I failed to save her - " You could have! his mind screamed, but your own safety was more important, wasn't it, Albus? You promised to come back, but it was too late, Grindelwald tortured her to death! All your fault, Albus, it's all your fault! " - she trusted me, and I failed her! Half of our party has turned, enticed by what Grindelwald has offered, and the rest are either disabled, maimed, or dead. What is the use, Cor, what is the goddamn point?"

Cor sighed, curly brown hair now a rusty red, as he was soaked with blood as well.

"Al, I don't know the point. There may be no point any longer. But there's only us left, we've got to succeed."

"It's impossible!"

"Nothing is impossible," Cor said, fiercely. "I'll never leave you. We'll fight together, and we'll die together, you understand?"

Albus raised his head, staring into Cor's eyes, as his own filled up with tears. "Cor . . . "

"Shh, Albus, it's okay. Come on, we've gotta get cleaned up. You can't avenge Virginia looking like this!"

Albus smiled weakly as he and Cor trudged off to their hideout, a small cave in the mountains, equipped with only a bucket of water and a keg of Pepperup Potion.

But it was no use, Albus thought. Cor . . . he died, the next day in battle, because of my betrayal, and then there was only me.

You succeeded, didn't you?

But they were all gone, all of them . . . there was no point. They're still dead, I should have died as well! Why didn't I?! I should have died!

But the moment was fleeting, and lasted only a millisecond. Throat slightly choked, and tears threatening to spill, he tried to speak in as normal a voice as possible. "I? I see myself holding a pair of thick, woolen socks." I haven't looked in the Mirror for a long time . . . and I don't think I ever will, again.

Scared to look yourself in the face, eh?

"One can never have enough socks," Albus continued, trying not to sound as shaky as he felt. "Another Christmas has come and gone and I didn't get a single pair. People will insist on giving books."

Harry stared.

Albus smiled as Harry turned and left, walking as if in a trance. So many years, so much bloodshed. There goes the boy who stopped it a second time, but not completely. I am too old now to be of much use. He . . . he is our hope now. He lived, and he goes without guilt.

I hope he will never have to feel the guilt that I had to and still bear. A hopeless hope it may be, but what other choice does one have? He has people who love him and are still living, though Lily and James are gone. They love him, he will get through hard times because of their love. But -

I hope he never has to make the choices I did. To choose between their lives and his death, between desire and morality; I hope it never comes to that.

Poor boy. He has been handed such a heavy burden at such a young age, and I fear that it shall only increase.

And her.

They love each other. They do not know, yet, but they will. And I hope he will never have to make the choice that I once did. And if he does, I hope he will make the right one.

There is hope, there has to be hope. There always will be hope.

But hope exists with desire and greed and corruption as well. The heart of desire is pure. Desire itself either ruins or enhances.

Dear boy. Her love will save you, but his desire shall destroy you both.

When you hear of his betrayal, only remember - the heart of desire is pure. Spare him, remember your childhood love and brotherhood. His heart is pure.

You could help, a voice inside his head said, viciously. You could help, you could interfere, and save all three a lot of pain and bloodshed.

Their fates are not mine to meddle in.

Besides . . . I have proven a failure at making wise decisions.

Dumbledore blinked. The poor boy . . .

And he did not know whether it was Ron or Harry he was thinking about.

Back in his study, Dumbledore poured himself a cup of tea and sat at his desk, lost in his thoughts. Then, with a bitter smile, he raised his cup and looked heavenward.

To you, Cor.

The heart of desire is pure, and as an angel, I hope you will forgive me . . .

A/N: Yes, H/Hr was implied, and Ron's fall from grace was implied, as well. This may be a prologue to a longer fic, or it may not. *shrugs* I don't know, it depends on your response and how many reviews I get. Hint, hint. g