"I. I see myself holding a pair of thick, woolen socks."
Harry stared.
"One can never have enough socks," said Dumbledore.
"Another Christmas has come and gone and I didn't get a pair. People will insist on giving me books."
- Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone, Chapter 12
Reflected Desires
Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore quietly closed the classroom door behind him. He adjusted his half-moon spectacles and sighed heavily.
It was time.
The golden frame of the Mirror of Erised glinted from across the empty room. Albus crossed the floor slowly and stood before it, contemplating the secrets it showed. During the years he had owned the Mirror the image had changed a few times, but it always came back to the same old desire: thick woolen socks.
It had been cold that winter so Ariana had knit him a pair of striped socks. They were bright yellow and lilac, the only yarn she had. The socks were lumpy and none of the stripes were even, but he wore them anyway. She had worked so hard to make the Christmas hols special. She always had.
Albus barely recognized himself at that age anymore, but he would never forget those hideous and itchy socks… He would never forget that grin either – the one he always wore when Gellert was there. His sixteen-year-old self had his arm slung around the other boy's shoulders. They had gotten into a debate and, of course, Aberforth could never leave anything alone. So they began throwing the closest things to them. When Albus had run out of books, he grabbed the pair of socks; they bounced off of Gellert's head and landed at his feet. Suddenly the whole thing seemed quite funny and they broke into fits of laughter. It was always that way at the start. There was always something to argue over, but it was always resolvable. The mirror showed Gellert's eyes glowing with some new idea that he couldn't wait to discuss - and of course prove his friend wrong. Those were the days... Ariana was alive, Gellert was his closest friend, and the world was a simpler place. Albus sighed again.
In recent days he had begun to realize how much he relied upon the Mirror. It was only in speaking to Harry that he realized how much he, too, needed to stop reflecting upon the Mirror's contents. It was time to let go of the desires to which he clung. His deepest, most desperate desire could no longer make him happy. He had dwelt too long on dreams, and there was still plenty of life left for him to live. He had to see this task through.
"Goodbye, old friend." He was not sure if he was speaking to Gellert, the mirror, or to his younger self. It didn't matter. It was time to use the Mirror for a better purpose than an old man's dreams. But he would never forget those days of his youth – or those thick woolen socks.