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I do not own Harry Potter.

Chapter 9

The Mirror of Erised

Christmas was coming. One morning mid December, Hogwarts found itself covered in several feet of snow.

The lake froze solid, forcing the Giant magical squid that lived into it's depths to go into hibernation. Moreover, the Weasley chaos wreaking twin team was punished for

bewitching several snowballs so that they followed Filtch around, bouncing on the top of his greasy hair.

Every soul inhabiting the old fortress could barely hold the excitement as the holiday approached. Every soul except a first year Slytherin with green eyes.

If one would observe the young man carefully, one would realize that something was slightly different about him.

It was not that he spent more time in the library studying than ever before, nor that he was rarely seen without his self appointed bodyguards. No, Harry Potter did

not display the slightest emotion that was generally associated to the upcoming cheerful holiday.

Any experienced Professor that spent all his life amongst his young charges should have realized that something was really wrong with the young man in question.

After all, one of the main sign in recognizing the presence of child abuse and neglect is a passive, withdrawn or overly compliant behavior. Nevertheless, due to the

prejudices against a certain House in this special school of 'the gifted' not one teacher except perhaps the Slytherin Head of House, took note of the fact that The Boy

Who Lived Only To Become a Snake displayed such symptoms. Consequently, at one given time in the future, all these witches and wizards, the ones that will

eventually survive a third wizarding British War, will come to wander what if. What if they would have noticed these facts and intervened in time y giving a helping

hand to said neglected child that would eventually change the course of magical history. But this is not the time for such toughs, as clearly the events have not yet

unfolded.

Harry walked through Hogwarts drafty corridors to Professor's Snape classes, in the dungeons. The drafty corridors had become icy and a bitter wind rattled the

windows of the classroom.

The students shivered as their breath rose in a mist before them and formed itself into small icy particles before falling on the floor.

"I do feel sorry" drawled Draco Malfoy "for all those people who have to stay at Hogwarts for Christmas because they're family cannot afford to have them home."

He was looking over at Ronald Weasley as he spoke. Harry smirked. The Gryffindor, having just been released from the hospital wing glared and was on the verge of

grabbing his wand in order to retaliate when out of nowhere, Professor Snape appeared behind the read headed first year.

"Weasley, twenty points from Gryffindor for cursing a fellow student in – my – class!" spat the Potions Professor, rage evident on his face.

Ronald Weasley opened his mouth to protest when a small hand covered it.

"Ignore him Ron, we'll only loose more points today if you give him a reason to do so" whispered the resident know-it-all.

"10 points for being out of your desk Miss Granger!"

"Now as much as I enjoy teaching your dunderheads of one of the finest arts out there, if I hear another word coming out of you two, I will give you a T for today's

assignment and send you on your "merry" way!" Snape continued, icy black eyes fixed on the two miscreants.

Granger's eyes grew big and went blurry, hearing the letter T pronounced by the greasy bat-like professor. She immediately turned towards her cauldron, trying to

salvage her Blood Replenishing Potion.

Ron Weasley glared again at the two smirking Slytherins.

It was true that Ronald Bilius Weasley wasn't going back to The Burrow this Christmas. His family was leaving for Romania, to visit his older brother who worked at a

dragon reserve there. Unfortunately, the cost of an international portkey trip was high, and due to his family precarious financial status, he and his brothers that were

still in school had to sign up for spending the holidays in Hogwarts.

When they left the dungeons and reached the staircase that took them to the Great Hall for lunch, they found it blocked by a colossal Christmas tree. Two muddy

boots made them realize that the Gamekeeper was actually pushing the tree up the stairs.

"Would you mind... Ouch! Harrrrry, why did you stomp my feet! I was just going... Ouch!"

Harry glared at Draco, running his hands through his perfectly straight hair.

"Troubles in Paradise, deatheaters?" came a furious spat from behind, belonging to none other than a very purple Ron Weasley, passing them, and roughly pushing

past the tree, scattering needles all over the stairs.

"Oh why don't you... Ouch! Harry..."

Draco seemed to notice the very pointed looks that Harry was giving him and immediately closed his mouth, eyes inquisitive but resigned. He knew that the black

haired boy had his reasons to stop him, one way or the other.

"Why no, Weasley... No troubles at all." Harry coldly drawled, while turning his attention to the tree.

"Hey, Hagrid, need any help with that?" he continued.

"Erm... Nah, it's allright 'Arry. Heavy lil' bugger tough." the half giant bellowed. "'Suppose to be in the Great Hall, last of the lot I tell ya. "

They followed the half giant up the stairs, to the Great Hall, where the other Professors were helping with the decorations.

Mistletoe and silver tinsel hung all around the walls, with a touch of holly in all the right places. All around the decorated walls, one could see the Christmas trees, tiny

magical candles hidden beneath their branches.

The Hall looked marvelous, even Harry had to admit it, if only for the sake of keeping up appearances.

Lunch was followed by double Herbology with the Ravenclaws, and double History with the Puffs. During the latter, Harry scolded his blond companion, reminding him

to keep a semblance of civility around Dumbledore's half breed. Draco dutifully complied.

Midnight drew near and found a very lonely and extremely bored Harry Potter. All other slytherins were already asleep, but after twisting and twirling for an hour in his

bed, Harry had enough. Since his discussion with Voldemort, Harry's train of toughs always returned to the Philosopher's stone. After all, having such an artifact,

desired by all but owned by one and possibly in the possession of another... Possibly hidden beneath the school... Well that was something worth musing over.

But was it a fact that Dumbledore actually brought the Stone at Hogwarts? And why? Was the stone in danger at Flamel's house? No doubt it was better protected in

the old alchemist's house, after all, neither Grindewald nor Voldemort had managed to acquire it in the first wizarding wars.

No, it was a test, and Harry saw right through it. Someway or somehow the Headmaster suspected that Quirell was after the stone. If Dumbledore knew about

Quirell's "house guest" Harry did not know. But the Headmaster was testing him. Why else would he mention the forbidden corridor in the welcoming speech, full

aware of the fact that it would instantly spark the curiosity of Hogwart's young inhabitants? Dumbledore was betting on Harry's supposed Gryffindor traits that he

should have inherited from his own parents. Bravery, chivalry, trustworthiness, devotion. But Harry never had those, had he? And if these suppositions were correct, if

Dumbledore was testing him, and Harry was never wrong then the only reasonable, valid conclusion was that the Stone was indeed in the school.

Harry's eyes brightened, his lips turned upwards, an insane laughter escaping his thin lips.

He slowly rose from his seat, sinister shadows playing on his face due to the slowing dieing fire from the Common Room's antique fireplace. He stepped out of

Slytherin's guarding portrait that was conveniently empty and climbed the stairs towards the third floor corridor. He needed to see with his own eyes Fluffy, the

Cerbereus.

Reaching the third floor, he opened with a silent "Alohamora" the door guarding the corridor and found himself in front of two very solid oak doors. He repeated the

procedure on the door heading to the right while mentally preparing himself to face the dog that was supposed to guard the gates of Hell.

It was seconds before he noticed that the room had no living beast inside.

Harry sneered at empty classroom, before his eyes halted on a ceiling high golden mirror, standing on two clawed feet.

"Erised" Harry reverently whispered, recognition flashing into his eyes.

"I show not your face but your hearts desire" he continued, while confidently stepping in front of it.

His heart pounded furiously and he had to clap his hand to his mouth in order to stop his screaming.

There, in the mirror stood Harry. But he was not alone. A boy, no a Man, stood besides him. The man had black hair that was slightly curled, high cheekbones, a

straight aristocratic nose, glowing red eyes framed by thick black lashes. His hand was rested on Harry's shoulder, a smile gracing his thin pink lips.

"Tom" Harry's heartbroken whisper echoed in the hollow dusty classroom.

"Tom" he repeated, while reaching with his fingertips for the image presented by the mirror.

His movement, though slow and hesitant, caused Harry to shift his position, making the black-haired man disappear as if it never was there.

Harry's chest constricted. A lonely tear escaped his eyes, making it's way down, on his pale cheeks, and then hitting the floor in front of the beautifully decorated

mirror.

"I will bring you back, Tom. Somehow, I will find a way, I promise..." he continued, resting his forehead on the mirror's cold smooth surface.

He stood motionless like that for what seemed to be an eternity and then steeling his will, he softly removed himself from the uncomfortable position.

He looked again with longing to his heart's greatest desire, memorizing and ingraining it deep into his soul, before leaving the classroom and heading for his dormitory.

The blasted dog would have to wait because Harry knew that if he remained a moment longer in the proximity of the cursed mirror he would never find the will to

leave. And to leave he had to, after all, he had a promise to fulfill.

A/N: This chapter was hard to write and that's why it took me so long to update it. I only hope it does not disappoint you all, dear readers.

Thank you for your support and reviews, I do appreciate it.

As always constructive criticism is more than welcomed!

Yours truly, Erhea