A/N: It saddens me to admit that I am not J.K. Rowling

The Mirror of Erised. Harry recognized it immediately, his eyes roving over the inscription at the top of the tall, gold-framed glass.

Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi.

It was a much older and wiser Harry Potter, at the age of twelve, that had rediscovered the mirror. He was in his second year, and Christmas break was coming to a close. It turned out that Malfoy was not, and had no clue as to who was, the Heir of Slytherin. Hermione was in the hospital wing, still sporting the signs of the botched Polyjuice Potion, and Ron was currently in the common room with the rest of the Weasleys. Harry had felt a bit isolated, awkwardly feeling like an outsider to their family, and had gone for a walk through the corridors.

The mirror was once again taking residence in a disused classroom. He had been sure that the mirror had been destroyed during his confrontation with Quirrell, but apparently that was not the case. Harry was about to stand in front of the mirror to see his family, but he hesitated. What if knowing his family was no longer the "deepest and most desperate desire" of his heart? What about the Heir of Slytherin? Could he perhaps use the mirror to find answers?

Dumbledore's voice echoed in Harry's memory. "This mirror will provide neither knowledge nor truth." With a sigh, Harry kicked dejectedly at an empty waste bin and turned his thoughts back to his family.

He wanted to see them, but he knew that things had changed in his life since the first time he had found this mirror. Harry now had wizard photos of his parents, Ron and Hermione had become surrogate siblings, and the questions Harry needed answers to, could not be provided by the limits of the mirror.

He kicked the waste bin again. Dumbledore had asked Harry not to go looking for the mirror of Erised again, and Harry was tempted to just leave the mirror and go back to the common room. "It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live," Dumbledore had also said. Harry didn't want to dwell, but that's what he'd be doing if he looked into the mirror just to see the family he never had. With a firm nod to no one, Harry turned and walked to the door.

With his hand on the knob, Harry stopped and turned back. He had pictures of his parents now, but what about his grandparents? Cousins on his father's side? One more little look couldn't hurt...

Could it?

Harry hesitantly walked back up to the mirror. He took a deep breath and then stepped into line with the center of the glass.

He saw himself laughing with Ron and Hermione in the living room of a house he didn't recognize, with Lily and James Potter standing off to the side smiling at the three of them. The Harry in the mirror didn't have a scar on his head, there was no war raging all around. Harry knew with certainty that in this dream, there had never been a Voldemort.

If only it were real... if only things had been different...

Harry watched the Ron and Hermione in the mirror and smiled. Despite the fact that Harry desperately wanted to just be a normal wizard, he wouldn't change his friendship with Ron and Hermione for anything. Harry turned away from the mirror. The real Ron and Hermione were friends with him, scar and all.

Feeling better, Harry stopped by the hospital wing to give Hermione a hug, and then he returned to the common room to let Ron beat him in a game of chess.