This story is a small expansion of the interactions between Albus Dumbledore and Harry Potter in Chapter 12 of Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone - "The Mirror of Erised." Quotes directly lifted from the chapter are in italics. All of this - the characters, the world, and the scene itself, are not my property. I'm just playing around in the universe we all love to enjoy.
/
Albus Dumbledore was not a young man.
It was nights like these - as snow swirled outside, rattling the window panes of his office, accompanied by a bitter chill throughout the castle, that he felt it most acutely. He let out a sigh and neatly stacked the departmental budgets he'd been working on in the far corner of his desk. He then reached for the mug of cocoa he'd brought back from the kitchens after visiting with the elves earlier that evening. He took a sip, found the drink to be a little on the cold side, and waved a hand over the mug. The heating charm rewarmed the cocoa, and a gentle steam now unfurled from it as he took another sip. Just right. His fireplace cracked merrily, the wood popping and throwing a small spark onto the rug. The rug shook itself off, and the escaped ember gently bounced back into to the grate, not unlike a lost child returning home.
Albus's piercing blue eyes shifted from the fire back to the stack of budgets on his desk. From there, his gaze shifted to a very tall stack of letters he had yet to peruse. He couldn't help but reach for one in particular, a letter and package that he'd set beside the stack earlier that afternoon. He stared at the letter for a moment and frowned, the twinkle in his eye fading as he felt suddenly very tired. This particular letter had been returned to him unopened, as it was every Christmas, by Aberforth - was this the 90th Christmas in a row he'd refused to open his gift? It surely must be nearing that. He'd truly enjoyed this year's effort, too - dancing goats that bleated the tune to Jingle Bells adorned the socks he'd lovingly packaged earlier in the week. Back in Mould-on-the-Wold, when their hair had been auburn instead of silver, Abe surely would have enjoyed the charm. But that, of course, was before Ariana, Gellert, and a broken nose had driven the two of them apart.
To get lost in the recesses of his own mind was not helpful - and it had been many, many years since those events - but Albus indulged in his own regrets. How often he now wished that he'd been cleverer then - seen through Gellert somehow, perhaps, or been wise enough to value his family like he should have - but it was not productive to dwell on these thoughts. As if he understood what Albus was feeling, Fawkes let out a low cry from his perch, attempting to lift his spirits.
"Thank you, my old friend, but I shall be fine," Albus replied to the phoenix's unspoken statement. He was now feeling restless, though, and stretched his tired arms above his head, his old joints simultaneously protesting the movement and feeling some relief from it. "Christmas is no time for sadness, after all. Perhaps I will go for a stroll."
Fawkes nodded his beautifully feathered head at that, as if to agree with Albus's proposal. Albus stood up from his chair, feeling his knees protest as he rose to his not inconsiderable full height. He wandlessly summoned his cloak to himself from the shelf behind the desk, upon which also sat the battered sorting hat. He noticed the flowered bonnet from supper hanging on the shelf as well, and chuckled quietly. He summoned that, too, feeling a little mischievous (as he often did when he wore clothing or made choices that would make Minerva cringe), and he set the bonnet over his silver hair. After innocently glancing at his reflection in the window, he decided that he was satisfied with his appearance.
Albus walked out of the office, at first aimlessly. He rather liked wandering the halls, and he began humming a tune, which could be identified by listeners as Celestina Warbeck's You Charmed the Heart Right Out of Me. An odd choice, perhaps, but Albus was admittedly a rather odd man. He stopped on the first floor, near the library, to look out of a large arched window. The snow was falling more gently now, all around Hagrid's hut and the Forbidden Forest. Were it earlier in the evening, it may have occurred to Albus to call on Hagrid, as he rather enjoyed his company (and Hagrid was always ready with a brandy). However, it was now quite late, and his friend was sure to have turned in for the night.
Albus was suddenly distracted from his musings by the sound of a piercing scream emanating from the library (a Caterwauling Charm from the Restricted Section, most likely). The scream was immediately followed by the sound of someone running in his direction down an adjoining corridor! Not wanting to be drawn into an unnecessary confrontation on this night, but naturally inquisitive about what had happened, Albus silently cast a powerful disillusionment charm on himself and spun to face whatever was coming toward him. Most curiously, when the person fleeing the library entered his corridor, Albus could not see anyone - which was saying something, as most forms of invisibility were trifling annoyances for his eyes to detect the true nature of. He heard footsteps thunder down the corridor, pass by him, and hurry up a nearby staircase. He also heard Argus's curses from some distance away, but he sounded as though he was drawing closer.
The mystery of the invisible intruder was a welcome distraction for Albus's mind. There were simply not many forms of invisibility that would have fooled his senses, and -
Ah. There was actually a very simple explanation - it had been Harry, freshly armed with a Hallow all his own. Perhaps he was more like his father than Albus had realized. He hadn't expected Harry to use the cloak to sneak into the library at night when he had advised him to use it well - let alone to visit the restricted section! - but the cloak was Harry's and he'd known he had to return it to the boy. Albus started up the stairs after Harry, curious about his destination. When Albus reached a corridor on the fifth floor, near where he had placed the Mirror of Erised, he heard Argus emerge from a secret passage and greet another wizard - Severus, by the sound of it.
"You asked me to come directly to you, Professor, if anyone was wandering around at night, and somebody's been in the library - restricted section."
Good - Severus was keeping a close eye on Quirinus, then. It was not surprising to Albus that Severus could be found in this particular corridor - he was crafty enough to discern where in the castle Albus had placed the mirror, and he had most likely stationed himself near it to protect the stone. Theoretically, it was possible that the mirror could have captured the young professor's focus, as deeply and pervasively as his guilt over Lily Potter's death affected him. Perhaps he could have been on this floor gazing into the mirror for his own reasons - seeing Lily again would be a powerful temptation. However, Albus discarded that concern as if it were nothing more than a whisper on the wind - the mirror's power, though formidable, would likely not be strong enough to sway a mind as fiercely organized and disciplined as Severus Snape's for long with its idealistic visions of happier times.
"The Restricted Section? Well, they can't be far, we'll catch them."
Not likely, Albus thought, but then they were not aware that their quarry was hiding under Death's own cloak. Albus heard the faintest squeak of a door, on the left side of the corridor, and he saw the briefest flash of a small bathrobe near the floor. Definitely Harry, and definitely still trying to hide from his pursuers. Argus and Severus moved down the hall, back toward the library, but Albus silenced the door and his own feet with another wave of his hand and slipped into the room after Harry.
Albus could not see the boy, but the air in the room was thickly saturated in the magic of the mirror, so he knew that Harry must be looking into it. He heard a swirl in the air, as if someone had turned around suddenly, (someone probably had, but Albus could not see them), and then the room was quiet. What would Harry Potter see in the Mirror of Erised, Albus wondered. Tom Riddle finally defeated, perhaps?
The question was answered nearly as soon as Albus pondered it, when the Harry whispered two words: "Mom… Dad?"
Albus's heart nearly broke for the boy. It had been obvious, in retrospect: Harry saw his family. That was not an unfamiliar desire to Albus, and he felt a sort of kinship with Harry in that moment. Albus stood in place for what felt like hours, but was likely only a matter of minutes, before he realized that Harry would not be likely to tear himself from the mirror of his own accord any time soon. He brandished his wand and gave it a small flick, and down the hall his magic caused a sharp knock on a window.
He heard Harry whisper the words "I'll come back," and then he heard the sound of the boy scurrying from the room.
Albus was now alone with the mirror. He was tempted, sorely tempted, to stare into its depths and drink in the sight of the thing he longed for most. Once, many years ago, the mirror had shown Albus a visage of Gellert, whole, untainted, and ready to listen to his pleas to stop the madness and come back to Godric's Hollow. Albus knew that his preoccupation with the past, and his own guilt, were guiding his decisions, but could not help himself - he gave into temptation and looked into the mirror.
He saw himself, surrounded by family, back in Mould-on-the-Wold. It was Christmastime, appropriately, and the brightly colored auburn hair of his youth hung around his shoulders in the carefree way only a child's could. He had a smile lighting up his face, and he was opening gifts, surrounded by his mother, Ariana, Aberforth, and even his father, who was happy and undamaged from Azkaban. Ariana held her gift up to him with a rapturous look of excitement and contentment, and Albus eagerly tore it open. Inside was a pair of wool socks - thick, brightly colored, and made just for him. His mirror-self thanked Ariana, and Aberforth held out his gift for him next, a lumpy, misshapen box that Albus knew would also contain socks, as was their tradition...
A single tear fell down his lined face into his beard, and he wiped it away. He turned his face away from the mirror. Albus knew he would have to come back and face the temptation of the mirror again the next night, for Harry would likely have much the same reaction to it that Albus himself did. He would need guidance so as not to be consumed by the false promises and tantalizing dreams the mirror presented as truths hidden just under its magnificent surface.
Albus exited the classroom, but could not help but think that it had truly been nice to see his family together again on this Christmas.
/
Albus returned to the unused classroom concealing the Mirror of Erised earlier the next night. It was dark in the room, and he settled in on a dusty desk in the far corner. He hummed another Warbeck tune while he waited. He was quite certain that Harry would return this evening, and he wanted a chance to have a conversation with him when he did. It was not Harry, however, who first graced him with their presence - rather, a tall ghost, draped in a floor-length cloak, with waist-length hair, floated toward him from the place near the door she had been standing sentry, still as a statue. The movement caused Albus to start slightly - he had not seen her when he entered the room. She took a haughty look around the small space, and then looked right at him.
"Headmaster," she said softly, in a voice that did not sound as though it saw much use. "Back again?"
"Not for myself, my dear Lady," Albus said in reply, removing his disillusionment charm with a wave. "I promise you that I am old enough now to know that life can pass you by quite easily while you are clinging on to a wish that can never be – or ought never to be – fulfilled. But, alas, we both know many students for whom this mirror would represent something impossible, and I must ensure that those students are not damaged by this artifact."
"How noble of you," the ghost sniffed. "But forgive me if I point out that it was you who originally removed this mirror from its hiding place, thus creating the potential for damage in your charges."
"You speak verily," Albus replied. "And it was an idea that I believed to be good at the time, and may yet prove to be one of my cleverer ones. The mirror will be moved again once I have had the opportunity to explain why I must do so to the student most affected by it."
"As you say, Headmaster. It is your school, after all. Just know that you do not fool me - you are sorely tempted by this mirror, just as you are claiming that your student is, and I do not think it healthy for you to spend time near it. You also hold on to dreams that are impossible."
"I do hold on to dreams," Albus said softly. "Truly grotesque phantasms of the mind that haunt me in my weakest moments. But I know better than most that to live held captive by those dreams is unhealthy and unhelpful. A friend of mine once told me that those who dream by night wake to find that their dreams were but vanity, and I do not strive to be a vain person, my fair Lady."
"Well said," the Grey Lady intoned. "Harry Potter will be here shortly. He is not alone." And with that, she drifted out of the room. Albus disillusioned himself again, curious who Harry had decided to bring along with him. He did not have to wait long - he heard voices outside of the room almost immediately after the ghost left.
"It's here - just here - yes!"
Harry entered the room and threw Ignotus's gift off of himself, rushing eagerly to the mirror. Albus's eyes shifted to take note of Harry's companion - Ronald Weasley. He should have known. The two were thick as thieves, not unlike James had been with Sirius. Yet another soul lost to the darkness, Albus thought sadly.
"See?" Harry whispered.
"I can't see anything."
"Look! Look at them all… there are loads of them…"
"I can only see you."
Albus suspected that Ronald Weasley would get the opportunity to see his own desires reflected in the mirror shortly. It did not take the boys long to work out that the mirror could only show one magical reflection at a time, and soon, Ronald was standing alone in front of the mirror. Harry attempted to introduce his family to Ronald, still ignorant to the true power of the mirror.
"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 Quidditch captain too… Do you think this mirror shows the future?"
"How can it? All my family are dead - let me have another look - "
Albus considered removing his disillusionment charm as the boys began to quarrel with each other, but he decided on a subtler appraoch. He wanted to give Harry an opportunity to work out what it was that the mirror did, and that would be more difficult with Ronald with him in the room. As he had the night before, Albus set off a noise down the corridor to draw Harry's attention away.
"Quick," Ronald said, and threw the cloak back over the boys, hiding them from view. Argus's cat, Mrs. Norris, turned the corner very shortly afterward, and Albus knew that Argus was never far behind her. The boys would be caught out if they did not hurry. After the cat trotted off, likely to find her owner, Albus heard the Weasley boy's disembodied voice say: "This isn't safe - she might have gone for Filch, I bet she heard us. Come on!"
And so, as the boys ran for safety, Albus was once again left alone with the Mirror of Erised. This time, the Grey Lady's warnings fresh in his mind, he did not stay to gaze into its depths, but rather left it alone in the room and returned to his office deep in thought.
/
The third night, Albus returned to his spot in the corner of the unused classroom directly after dinner. He was beginning to fall behind on his own work, and he knew his desk had many unopened owls for him to sort out when he returned, but he also knew that he was the best one to help Harry understand the power of the Mirror of Erised - so he stayed. He was not disappointed by that decision. Earlier than he had appeared the past two evenings, Harry entered the classroom in a rush, throwing his cloak off of himself and sinking down to the floor in front of the mirror. He was alone - this was going to be Albus's best chance.
"So - back again, Harry?"
Harry stiffened and slowly turned around when he heard Albus's voice - the poor boy looked terrified, and very small, beneath Albus's gaze.
"I - I didn't see you, sir."
"Strange how nearsighted being invisible can make you," Albus said, smiling, thinking of his own encounter with the Grey Lady in this very room the previous night. He slipped off of the desk to sit on the floor near Harry, balancing on his knees. "You, like hundreds before you, have discovered the delights of the Mirror of Erised."
"I didn't know it was called that, sir."
"But I expect you've now realized what it does?"
Albus was determined to make Harry understand the function of the mirror. It was much easier to cope with its spell once you were aware of how it could enrapture the mind.
"It - well - it shows me my family"
Harry would need a bit of help understanding the mirror's function. That was fine - Albus almost felt as though he'd been asked an interesting question in the Transfiguration classroom. In an odd way, he was eager to help Harry to understand the Mirror of Erised.
"And it showed your friend Ron himself as head boy."
"How did you know - ?"
Indeed, if Albus had a Sickle for each time he'd been asked that question, he would be a very wealthy man. It felt these days as though he always knew, and he honestly grew tired sometimes of appearing so omniscient.
"I don't need a cloak to become invisible," said Albus gently. "Now, can you think what the Mirror of Erised shows us all?"
Harry again shook his head. No problem - Albus would provide an example. They would work through this problem in tandem, teacher and student - two lonely souls engaged in the noble pursuit of enlightenment, together in an empty classroom.
"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?"
Harry looked deep in thought, like the answer was on the tip of his tongue. He slowly formed a reply, but seemed unsure in his delivery.
"It shows us what we want… whatever we want…"
That was closer to the mark, but not quite what he was hoping for. Perhaps good enough for an Exceeds Expectations, but not an Outstanding. Albus, however, decided to take that answer as close enough to the mark and explain the rest to Harry.
"Yes and no," he said quietly. He was very aware that the two of them were alone in a dusty old classroom in an empty corridor, but the subject matter was such that he spoke in a low, deliberate tone. "It shows us nothing more or less than the deepest, most desperate desires 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."
Harry was hanging on his every word, his hands slowly fumbling with the worn sleeves of his pajamas, green eyes shining under unkempt black bangs. He looked very young to Albus, but his eyes held in them an understanding that betrayed a surprising maturity. Harry was truly a remarkable young man.
"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 that admirable cloak back on and get off to bed?"
Harry stood up next to him, but Albus stayed seated in front of the mirror.
"Sir - Professor Dumbledore? Can I ask you something?"
Feeling mischievous, Albus replied. "Obviously, you've just done so… You may ask me one more thing, however."
"What do you see when you look in the mirror?"
Out of the corner of his eye, Albus could see the tranquil scene - himself, also surrounded by his family, exchanging gifts - but it seemed a rather private thing to share, and so he decided to compromise. He would not lie to Harry, but perhaps a half-truth would suffice…
"I? I see myself holding a pair of thick, woolen socks."
Harry stared at him as though he were crazy, but he accepted the answer much more quickly than Albus himself would have. He was trusting in the way that children often were.
"One can never have enough socks," Albus continued, "Another Christmas has come and gone and I didn't get a single pair. People will insist on giving me books."
When Harry left the room, Albus let out a sigh. He was still seated in front of the mirror, and for the third time in as many days, he was alone there. He silently called Fawkes to himself, to make sure that he would be distracted from the mirror before too much time had passed, and then he looked back into its shining surface, drinking in the image of Abe and Arianna and the blissful sock-filled halcyon days of his youth.