The Mirror

"Lily, where are you?" Harry called out. He peered into an empty classroom. Even after 19 years and three kids, it never ceased to amaze him how quiet children could be, especially his, when they were wandering away. He and Ginny found that out the hard way, with their first child James, and after that first nerve-straining 10 minutes, they learned that they should never let him out of their sight or else he would disappear. Perhaps, he mused, children had their own form of disapparation that allowed them to disappear anywhere and everywhere without a sound. That would certainly account for why he was gazing into empty classrooms looking for his missing daughter.

He made a mental note never to bring Lily with him the next time he had to give the odd Defense Against the Dark Arts lecture to the fifth-years. It had become almost a yearly thing for him to give that talk, about the importance of defending oneself and only doing harm when absolutely necessary. Nothing like a veteran and celebrity to inspire the prospective Aurors of tomorrow.

Yet, his youngest had begged and pleaded and he, being such a softie, especially when it came to his only daughter (who had her mother's eyes, which did not help the cause), agreed.

Harry scanned the room, looking for any signs of red hair. The good thing about his daughter, he noted, was that her hair made it possible for easy spotting, just like her mother.

Thinking of his wife, he could almost hear her scolding him.

"I told you it was a bad idea to spoil her like that," Ginny would no doubt say, complete with that nagging tone in her voice, incredibly reminiscent of Molly Weasley. Hopefully, this would turn out well and he wouldn't have to tell her. Hopefully...

When nothing in the room met his eyes, he turned to leave. Or he would have left if it had not for the beam of refracted light that chose that precise moment to hit the corner of his eye.

Turning in the direction of its source, he finally saw it. It was still in the same condition as he had last seen it during that pivotal moment during his first year.

He thought it had been destroyed, perhaps even hidden in some obscure mountainside somewhere so that no poor soul could be fooled by it. Of course, the fact that it was back, inside an empty classroom in Hogwarts was no surprise either. But, after 26 years, he didn't expect to run into it again.

After all, it no longer had any purpose, there was no stone to protect, no secret hidden behind the glass, and he, he had no quest to go on, no reason to use it. But Harry, knowing Dumbledore well, assumed that it was probably hidden here for educational purposes, to warn some fool-hardy, adventurous first-years to remember the importance of the moment.

After all, Dumbledore had once told him, "It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live, remember that."

And like many of the former Headmaster's advice, Harry had taken it and learned from it. And he had lived. He treasured every day he had the past 19 years, when he had finally been allowed to live a normal life, without any more adventures or misfortunes. And that life, those sunlit days that had felt as if they had been ripped from the pages of someone else's life, it had become his. Finally, he felt that sense of profound belonging, the same feeling that had overcome him when he first looked into the mirror.

He could still recall what had sailed through him when he first beheld the reflections in the glass. The yearning and happiness that he had felt, the elation at finally being able to see the sight of his parents, his grandparents, his family for the first time in his life. How happy he had been, yet frustrated; happy at finally seeing them and frustrated at not being able to reach out andtouch them. No matter how close he had gotten to the mirror, his face and hands only touched glass. How he recalled wishing that the glass could just slip away and that he could finally touch them, talk to them.

So many hours he remembered sitting in front of that mirror, willing to sacrifice sleep just to spend time with his family, to finally be a part of something that he had never known, that had been taken from him at such a young age.

Now, he stood before it again, touching the gilded frame, feeling the engraving beneath his hands. The Mirror of Erised. He looked upward, searching for the inscription on the top of the frame. There it was, the curved words that he had never understood: Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi.

His native curiosity told him to go, stand in front of it, to see if after all these years, if his desires had changed. But, he could not bring himself to move.

Was there anything that he really wanted?

Nothing came to mind but then again, the things hidden deepest in one's heart rarely ever does. Yet, he did not really want to find out. He remembered how distant he had been when he had first discovered the images in the mirror and how he could not wait to go back and see it again. It had distracted him away from his friends, from everyone. It had taken Dumbledore's words and hiding the mirror to push Harry back to the real world, and even then, he had not been able to stop thinking about the images.

What if that happened again now?

But for all he knew, he didn't feel unhappy with life now. Nothing feels out of place or strange, and it's everything he ever wanted. Was there anything else?

He didn't know.

But, could he resist not knowing what was in that mirror? But if he did choose to look, what would it mean for his life right now?

He hesitantly took one step, then two, making sure his face was turned away from the glass. Curiosity, as always, proved to be too much for him. Finally, he stopped when he was in the center of the mirror, then he turned to face the glass. He was a few inches away from it, close enough to reach out and touch it. His eyes met the ones reflected back in the mirror, scanning the surface, expecting the images to materialize in seconds.

He waited.

Nothing.

There was only him, messy hair, glasses, standing there gaping at himself. There was no one in the room with him, just the sunlight coming in from the windows and the sound of the birds chirping outside.

Was there something wrong with it? Perhaps this wasn't the right mirror. He looked up to look at the inscription again. It looked the same and the frame was the same.

It was the right mirror. Yet, why did he only see himself? Was this what he really wanted, to be alone?

Suddenly, another memory came back, as clear as the day Dumbledore had spoken to him.

"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."

He placed his hand in front of it, touching the cold glass. His lips curved into a smile, followed by a wry chuckle. Of course.

Even though he was gone, the former headmaster never failed to amaze.

Thank you, he silently mouthed. His reflection only smiled in return.

"Daddy?"

He turned around and was met by the sight of his daughter, standing a few feet behind him with her bright red hair neatly in place, and no scratches to be found.

"There you are," he said warmly, walking over and gathering her up in his arms, taking in how small she was in his arm. "I was so worried about you." He pulled away to gaze at her face, at her brown eyes and at the freckles on her nose. It was amazing how much she looked like Ginny. Yet, he could still see a part of himself in her as well. That inquisitive nature, the knobbly knees…

"I'm sorry Daddy, I won't do it again," she replied guiltily. Under any circumstances, he would have reminded her that she always said that. But then again, who was he to scold her for being curious, goodness knows that drive had resorted in his many memorable Hogwarts adventures.

"It's all right, honey. Just tell me where you're going next time, or else your mother will have a fit."

She nodded obediently. Then, her eyes fell on the mirror and she cocked her head sideways. "That's a pretty mirror," she observed, moving to get closer.

He stopped her, holding her back gently with his arms. "Yes it is honey." She made no move to protest.

"Were you checking your hair?" she asked, turning to him quizzically.

He chuckled. "Yes, I was. And as you can see, I lost," he replied, trying to pat down his wayward hair. As always, it didn't work.

"It's okay Daddy, I like your hair."

"Thank you honey, at least somebody does. Now come on, we should be getting home or else you mom will have a fit about us being late for dinner."

He stood up and his daughter took his hand, though he noticed her turning back to look at the mirror. Luckily, she was too far to see anything more than her reflection.

Turning around, he walked out of the room with his daughter. If he had turned to look at the mirror before leaving, he would have only seen his reflection as well as his daughter's, leaving the room hand-in-hand. Luckily, Harry didn't look back because this time, there was no need. All was well.

A/N: A little fun piece inspired by the light-hearted epilogue of DH. My heart warms at the thought that Harry had gotten what his heart most desired. But yeah, hopefully, older Harry was in character. Review and such.