My longest chapter:) Enjoy!
Chapter 3. The Mirror of Erised.
The last two weeks were uneventful at all, except for the fact, that Harry continued to change. He noticed his knees didn't appear knobby any longer. As well he grew up a couple of inches, so he had got as tall as Ron, also his fingers had become long and slender. As a result his handwriting had altered a little. It no more was looking like chicken scratch, but on the opposite it was neat and small.
All along of it Harry had problems with his essays. The teachers, especially Snape, accused him in cheating. They thought, that someone else was writing his homework for his. Thus Harry after every class the past week was writing some sentences in teacher's presence, so he could prove, that it was him, who wrote his exercises.
All that did not pass unnoticed by Hermione. She continued decoct, that Harry should go to Madam Pomfrey or any other teacher. But Harry remained blind to her requests as long as there was no harm from it. Meantime Hermione made some trips to the library to gather some information on this subject.
By the way these adjustments occurred not only in Harry's physical appearance. The rest two weeks before the end of the term Harry was excellent in Potions, he brewed ideal potions (even better than Hermione's) every single lesson. At first Snape was sure, Harry was cheating. But when he started to observe Harry closely every lesson, he understood, that he was wrong, as the boy did everything by himself and never looked at Hermione or on anyone else. So Snape really had no choice but to give Outstanding for that. He wrote O on Harry's list with such an expression on his face as though it gave him an unbearable pain. Also his potion essays were brilliant these days. Snape only once found some thing to low Harry's mark. He said, that his essay was too long. So all, was left to the Potion master, was to give Harry snide remarks and sneering at him.
And even more, Harry couldn't resist his desire to read the Potion textbook in his free time. This really shocked Ron and Hermione, especially Ron, to no end, not to mention, that they were already shocked by Harry's excellence in Potions. But of course he had spent some of his time on Quiddich practices, and he enjoyed them too.
Also Harry had found new unexpected ability to memories the ingredients' names and the order to add them to the potion very easily. He even started to read additional Potion books.
As well Harry started to love reading very much. Before he too like it, but now he was reding and studying as much as Hermione. So Ron was left to follow their examples.
These changes didn't went unnoticed by the teachers, Snape and Dumbledore in particular, who were looking on Harry very closely. To say, that they were confused, is to say nothing.
"I cannot fathom, what wrong with the boy!" Severus ranted at the first day of Christmas vacation in The Headmaster's office as Fawkes, the phoenix, was looking at him with curiosity from his perch. "He don't look quite like Potter anymore. He don't wear glasses for some unknown reason, his handwriting now don't look like chicken scratch and he ... he did the flawless potions on the last four lessons ... even Granger girl can't do it! But he was daft at potions from the beginning of the year, and now such a progress. And his last essays ... For all of my desire I mark them less than Exceed Expectations!"
"Severus, please, calm down and sit." Dumbledore said. Severus took a deep breath and calm a little, then did as Dumbledore asked. "I guess you should be happy, that young Harry shows such a good work at your classes, Severus..."
"No, no, you don't understand, Albus!" Severus cut off. "Don't you know, what happened to me last Saturday?"
"No, Severus, enlight me." Dumbledore responded calmly.
"I was walking in the courtyard in the early evening," Severus began to explain. "When I met the Infamous Trio, sitting on the bench. Granger and Weasley were discussing something, and Potter... Potter was reading the book. Not Quidditch Trough The Ages, not any other stupid Quidditch trash. He was reading the POTION book!"
"Oh, Severus, don't you think, Harry was just doing his assignment?" Headmaster asked.
"But it was not just first year textbook, it was not even additional book, I advised the first years to read for their essays. It was ... . This book is very advanced and hard to read, only fifth years read it, but only those, who want to know more information about the subject." The Potion master continued. "And the brat was reading it with his nose literally buried in the book! With such interest, crossed his face, as it was the most entertaining thing, he has ever read! So I just took away the book and..."
"...you took points from Gryffindor." Dumbledore said for Severus.
"Yes exactly. But after hour or so Potter dared to come to my office and to ask for his book back!"
"It seems, that Harry really like this book otherwise he would not come to the office of the fearful Potion master..." Headmaster responded with the smile. "And by the way, Severus, I think, you should be proud, that one of your students began to show so big passion in your subject. It's your merit as a teacher."
"But it can't be, as I am horrible to him at class and not only there. And no way the mediocre, arrogant Potter's spawn can suddenly became so brilliant at Potions." Severus insisted. "There must be something... Do you have any ideas about these sudden changes, Albus?"
"Firstly, I want to repeat, that you see, what you expected to see in the boy. And I ask you, Severus, to judge Harry by his choices, behavior and actions but not by sins of his father. Please, don't pay so much attention to his outside appearance." Dumbledore said.
But pity, nothing was capable to reassure Severus at the moment. He stubbornly saw James Potter in Harry. He didn't know nothing about Harry's hard childhood, that was so much like Severus'. He didn't know the boy's real character, that in reality was so much like Lily's. Only that myth, which he had created to himself.
"And secondly to answer your question, I have several suggestions, but I am not sure in any of them, so I won't voice them." The Headmaster states in tone, which meant the end of discussion. So Severus stood up and was about to leave, when Dumbledore asked.
"Keep an eye on Quirrell, won't you?"
"Of course, Headmaster." Was the only answer before the Potion master stormed out of the room, his cloak billowing after him.
Harry, Ron and Hermione had still been searching books for Flamel's name, because how else were they going to find out what Snape was trying to steal? The trouble was, it was very hard to know where to begin, not knowing what Flamel might have done to get himself into a book. He wasn't in Great Wizards of the Twentieth Century, or Notable Magical Names of Our Time; he was missing, too, from Important Modern Magical Discoveries, and A Study of Recent Developments in Wizardry. And then, of course, there was the sheer size of the library; tens of thousands of books; thousands of shelves; hundreds of narrow rows.
"What are you looking for, boy?"
"Nothing."said Harry.
Madam Pince the librarian brandished a feather duster at him. "You'd better get out, then. Go on—out!"
Wishing he'd been a bit quicker at thinking up some story, Harry left the library. He, Ron, and Hermione had already agreed they'd better not ask Madam Pince where they could find Flamel. They were sure she'd be able to tell them, but they couldn't risk Snape hearing what they were up to.
Five minutes later, Ron and Hermione joined him, shaking their heads. They went off to lunch and after that Hermione will have to depart home.
"You will keep looking while I'm away, won't you?" said Hermione. "And send me an owl if you find anything."
"And you could ask your parents if they know who Flamel is." said Ron. "It'd be safe to ask them."
"Very safe, as they're both dentists," said Hermione.
On Christmas Eve, Harry went to bed looking forward to the next day for the food and the fun, but not expecting any presents at all. When he woke early in the morning, however, the first thing he saw was a small pile of packages at the foot of his bed.
"Merry Christmas." Said Ron sleepily as Harry scrambled out of bed and pulled on his bathrobe.
"You, too." Said Harry. "Will you look at this? I've got some presents!"
"What did you expect, turnips?" Said Ron, turning to his own pile, which was a lot bigger than Harry's.
So Harry began to unwrap his presents. He found a friendly note (well kind of it) from his aunt and uncle with the fifty pence piece, also he received a brand new Weasley sweater and a large box of homemade fudge from Ron's mum, as well as the wooden flute made by Hagrid himself and the large box of different sorts of candies from Hermione. But the most extraordinary present was from Albus Dumbledore, or so Harry thought as the note in the parcel was anonymous.
Your father left this in my possession before he died.
It is time it was returned to you.
Use it well.
A Very Merry Christmas to you.
It was an Invisibility Cloak, a very rare thing according to Ron.
The Christmas dinner was wonderful. There were loads of food on the tables. Also there were stacks of wizard crackers every few feet along the table. These fantastic party favors were nothing like the feeble Muggle ones the Dursleys usually bought. Harry pulled a wizard cracker with Fred and it didn't just bang, it went off with a blast like a cannon and engulfed them all in a cloud of blue smoke, while from the inside exploded a rear admiral's hat and several live, white mice.
It had been Harry's best Christmas day ever. Yet something had been nagging at the back of his mind all day. Not until he climbed into bed was he free to think about it: the Invisibility Cloak.
Harry leaned over the side of his own bed and pulled the cloak out from under it.
His father's… this had been his father's. He let the material flow over his hands, smoother than silk, light as air. Use it well, the note had said.
He had to try it, now. He slipped out of bed and wrapped the cloak around himself. Looking down at his legs, he saw only moonlight and shadows. It was a very funny feeling. Use it well.
Suddenly, Harry felt wide-awake. The whole of Hogwarts was open to him in this cloak. Excitement flooded through him as he stood there in the dark and silence. He could go anywhere in this, anywhere, and Filch would never know.
He crept out of the dormitory, down the stairs, across the common room, and climbed through the portrait hole. Harry decided not to wake Ron, as he wanted to use the Cloak alone the first time.
But where should he go? The answer came immediately. The Restricted Section. He'd be able to read as long as he liked, as long as it took to find out who Flamel was. He set off, drawing the Invisibility Cloak tight around him as he walked.
The Restricted Section was right at the back of the library. Stepping carefully over the rope that separated these books from the rest of the library, he held up his lamp to read the titles.
They didn't tell him much. Their peeling, faded gold letters spelled words in languages Harry couldn't understand.
One book caught Harry's eye. He pulled it out with difficulty, because it was very heavy, and, balancing it on his knee, let it fall open.
A piercing, bloodcurdling shriek split the silence—the book was screaming! Harry snapped it shut, but the shriek went on and on, one high, unbroken, earsplitting note. He stumbled backward and knocked over his lamp, which went out at once. Panicking, he heard footsteps coming down the corridor outside—stuffing the shrieking book back on the shelf, he ran for it. He passed Filch in the doorway. Harry slipped under Filch's outstretched arm and streaked off up the corridor.
"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."
Harry felt the blood drain out of his face. Wherever he was, Filch must know a shortcut, because his soft, greasy voice was getting nearer, and to his horror, it was Snape who replied. "The Restricted Section? Well, they can't be far, we'll catch them."
He backed away as quietly as he could. A door stood ajar to his left. It was his only hope. He squeezed through it, holding his breath, trying not to move it, and to his relief he managed to get inside the room without their noticing anything. Snape and Filch walked straight past, and Harry leaned against the wall, breathing deeply, listening to their footsteps dying away. It was a few seconds before he noticed anything about the room he had hidden in.
It was a magnificent mirror in the middle of the room, as high as the ceiling, with an ornate gold frame, standing on two clawed feet. There was an inscription carved around the top: Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi. His panic fading now that there was no sound of Filch and Snape, Harry moved nearer to the mirror, wanting to look at himself but see no reflection again. He stepped in front of it.
A woman standing right behind his reflection was smiling at him and waving. He had to clap his hands to his mouth to stop himself from screaming. He whirled around. But the room was completely empty. Harry turned slowly back to the mirror. He reached out a hand and felt the air behind him. If she was really there, he'd touch her, their reflections were so close together, but he felt only air. She existed only in the mirror.
She was a very pretty woman. She had dark red hair and her eyes. 'Her eyes are just like mine.' Harry thought, edging a little closer to the glass. Bright green, exactly the same shape, but then he noticed that she was crying, smiling, but crying at the same time. Harry was so close to the mirror now that his nose was nearly touching that of his reflection.
"Mum?" He whispered softly. The woman nodded slightly.
Then another person appeared next to her. It was tall, thin man. He had a shoulder length raven black hair, hooked nose and black depthless eyes. The moment Harry saw him, his heart almost stopped, the dread washed over him. Oh, no, Snape found him... Snape was going to kill him literally. It was a great chance for him, as there was no one here, except for Harry and Snape unlike on the Quidditch field with lots of people. Slowly Harry turned around to face the last person he wanted to meet in the middle of the night. But he saw nothing behind him... Snape like his mum existed only in the mirror.
But then Snape did something unexpected and completely uncharacteristic: he SMILED at Harry. It was not sneer or teasing or grimace. It was wide friendly pleasant smile. Harry didn't think, Snape could do it. And the most strange thing was, that this smile went straight to his eyes, which began to shine with... It definitely was not abhorrence or disgust, Harry was so capable to see in his eyes, when Snape looked at him. It was the same glitter, that shined in his mother's eyes. Could it be love? 'No, absolutely not.' Harry thought. 'Severus Snape cannot love, and certainly he can't look him, Harry, like that.' The man was always cold and emotionless, and now he was smiling with pure love? Snape's black eyes did not seem like black holes, but on the contrary they were alive and cheery. Harry also noticed, that the Potion master looked remarkably younger in the mirror.
After that Snape waved at the boy and put a hand on Harry's reflection as Lily did. Then Snape put his other arm around Lily, and they both continued to smile at Harry.
Harry did not know what to think about the mirror. On one side he felt happy and joyful to see his mother, as well as sadness was rolling over him, as he knew she was long ago dead.
On the other side ... what Snape was doing here? And why he is smiling and waving at him, not sneering? Where was his father? Why at the very least Snape was hugging his mother? But Harry did not have an answer on these endless questions. All this was truly bizarre.
But for some unknown reason Harry did not want to leave. Something was keeping the boy in front of the mirror, and he continued to look at his mum and young Snape. Maybe because he simply wanted to be with his mother for some time, maybe because he liked the whole picture of the united family in front of him, which member he now was, even though it was strange...
The time passed, and Harry continued to stare at the magic mirror. The reflections did not fade and he looked and looked until a distant noise brought him back to his senses. He couldn't stay here, he had to find his way back to bed. He tore his eyes away from his mother's face, whispered. "I'll come back," and hurried from the room.
Author's note.
All characters belong to J. K. Rowling, as well as Harry Potter universe. Some parts of this chapter were taken from "HP and Sorcerer's Stone".
So what do you think about my fic? You may send me your ideas and suggestions about possible events in the future.
Do you understand why The Mirror of Erised suddenly showed Lily and Severus, not Lily and James? If not, I think you'll indeed understand it in the future chapter. So rear and review!
