Chapter 11 – Mirror of Erised
Less than minute had passed since Harry vanished from my sight, and it already seemed too long. Heaven only knows what he faced on the other side now.
It could not be Snape, I was more than certain of it. I glanced over my shoulder to the purple flames, where the unconscious mountain troll was on the other side. It was almost twin to the one we saw in Halloween, and slowly the truth dawned on me.
It was Quirrell who tried to steal the Stone. Who else could let the troll in the school? He obviously was an expert on trolls, once he choosed the one for the trap. But, if so, it meant that maybe Snape also was aware of it? Maybe he went to the fourth floor in Halloween night to stop Quirrell? Maybe Snape threatened him to prevent him from continuing his attempts to reach the Stone? And that meant that Snape was on good side. Of course, his behaviour and appearance could fool anyone and make it easy to believe that he is the bad guy. Then again, not everything is what it seems to be. Not in Hogwarts, anyway.
Snape's words surfaced in my memory – "There's something you should know. In spite of common belief, I would never do anything to betray Professor Dumbledore's expectations of me. I'd suggest you to remember that before jumping to any conclusions. As for Potter, Weasley and Granger, I do hope that you will do your best to keep them out of trouble since you're the eldest one among them."
Impossible as it may seem, I think that Snape knew we were suspecting him and he tried to give me a hint that we are gravely mistaken. He also seemed to know that we had a plan, perhaps he even figured out we would try to do what we did tonight. And he expected me to keep them out of trouble. What a display of trust, I thought sarcastically.
I glared at the black flames that seemed to be deadly at first sight. I had to find a way how to reach the door and help Harry. It was insane for him to be there alone, face to face with Quirrell and maybe even Voldemort. But the bottle of the only potion that could allow me to pass through the flames was empty.
Or maybe not.
I picked it up and carefully examined. At the very bottom a single drop of potion still had remained. It may have not work, but at current moment it was better than nothing. Hoping that Snape did not messed up with it to prevent any magical interference, I pulled out my wand and cast a non-verbal Repleo, a rather simple spell that was also known as Refilling Charm which should refill a container with its current contents.
The bottle immediately refilled itself with the previous liquid. Now there was enough for more than two people to use it. Another flick of wand to cast Disillusionment, and I was ready to join Harry. I closed my eyes and took a sip from the bottle, mentally crossing my fingers in hope I did not accidentally turned the potion into poison.
My blood turned into ice, the insides froze, my skin covered with frost – in few seconds I turned into a walking icicle. Of course, none of it actually happened, it was merely the sensation of being frozen that indicated that the potion had worked its miracle. I took a deep breath and stepped through the black flames. The fire caressed my skin softly and painlessly like a feather. In no time I was on the other side, carefully opened the door and sneaked inside the last room.
I stood at the top of large, marble stairs. The large room was surrounded by a colonnade. Harry stood on a third step from the bottom, a bit further I spotted Quirrell – damn, how I hate to be right about bad things – and in front of him was a huge, full-length mirror in golden frame. I tiptoed down and moved closer to read description above the glass – Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi.
What on earth was this language, I wondered, then shifted aside, my wand ready to cast a hex at Quirrell who carefully examined the mirror. I could not see the Stone, but I had a pretty good guess that its hiding place had something to do with the mirror.
"Now, what does this mirror do?" Quirrell muttered. "Yes, I see my desire. I see myself holding the stone. But how do I get it?"
If the Stone was hidden in mirror or even if it could only show its location, maybe I should break it so Quirrell would never find it. I raised my wand, preparing to crash the mirror, but then I froze as I heard another voice. A terrifying, cold voice that rather resembled a hiss. And it seemed to come from Quirrell himself. I froze on spot, keeping my breath shallow and quiet to not reveal my presence.
"Use the boy – use the boy!"
"Potter, come here!" Quirrell turned and yelled at Harry. "Come here, now!"
Harry hesitantly walked closer, until he stood in front of mirror, but Quirrell stepped aside. I gripped the wand tighter. This is it, just another second, I thought.
"Now - tell me. What do you see," Quirrell's hungry eyes shifted between Harry and the mirror.
Harry said nothing, he merely stared at the mirror with a mix of confusion and surprise. I made a step aside in hope to see what he saw, but my lack of coordination turned against me in the most inappropriate moment. I tripped over my feet and fell on knees.
Quirrell spun on a place, eyeing the spot where I was standing. I froze, holding my breath, trying not to make a single move, but the bastard was smart. Damn too smart. He pulled out his wand and threw a non-verbal spell at my direction. I felt a wave of hot water rushing over me and realized that he just removed the charm which hid me from sight.
Crap! Now that my presence was revealed, I had nothing to lose. Might as well put up a hell of fight. At least that would distract him from the mirror and, hopefully, from Harry.
"Stupefy!" I slashed the wand at Quirrell, but he merely blocked the spell with an enviable ease.
"Stupid girl," Quirrell sneered; it did not struck him that I used a spell, not normally taught in first year. "Do you reckon to be able to stand a grown wizard, being a silly first year yourself?"
"We shall see, won't we? Harry, get off the way!" I yelled at Harry, who leapt aside, while I avoided a flash of light from Quirrell's wand, and shot back one of my own. "Expelliarmus!"
Quirrell's wand flew in the air and vanished behind the mirror. I straightened up, pointing my wand directly at his face.
"Now, don't make a wrong move, or I won't hesitate to blow you up in pieces," I lied without blushing – in fact I did not know the spells that could be strong enough to do an actual harm, however a Stunning spell might do the job.
"Let me – speak to them!" the strange voice suddenly spoke again.
"My lord, you – you're not strong enough," Quirrell nervously fidgeted.
"I have strength enough – for this," the voice hissed. "Take care of the girl, but don't kill her – for now. Let me speak to the boy first."
Quirrell merely flicked his wrist, and the wand flew from my hand. Another flick, and I was knocked off my feet. In horror I realized that I cannot move a muscle. Whatever he cast at me, the spell held me firmly on a place. I could only lay there and watch in confusion how Quirrell unwrapped his turban.
When the layers of fabric finally fell down on floor, I opened my mouth to scream, but no sound came out. On the back of Quirrell's head another face appeared, a horrible, marble white face with bright red eyes and snake-like nostrils. Quirrell still stood with his back at mirror, but I knew Harry could see the second face in reflection, because he too stood, shocked beyond words.
"Harry Potter. We meet again." The face hissed.
"Voldemort?" Harry whispered.
"Yes. You see what I've become? See what I must do to survive? Live off another, a mere parasite. Unicorn blood can sustain me, but cannot give me a body of my own. But there is something that can. Something that, conviently enough, lies in your pocket."
Harry's hand instinctively moved to shield his pocket. My heart jumped in both joy and fear. So, he managed to get the Stone before Quirrell did. I wanted to yell at him to run away from here, but Harry, as if reading my thoughts, already had turned and dashed up the stairs in attempt to escape.
"Stop him!" Voldemort shouted. Quirrell snapped his fingers, and a huge wall of fire appeared in front of Harry, blocking the way out.
"Don't be a fool,"Voldemort continued to hiss like a snake. "Why suffer a horrific death, when you can join me and live?"
"Never!" Harry shouted back.
I struggled against the invisible force that kept me down, trying to remember any useful spells, but I could not recall at least one counterspell that could be cast without a wand.
"Bravery. Your parents had it too. Tell me, Harry, would you like to see your mother and father again? Together, we can bring them back. All I ask is something in return."
With a corner of an eye, I saw that Harry slowly took the Stone out of his pocket. I had to do something, anything, to help him. He was alone, face to face with not one but two enemies at once. My brains were ready to explode from tension. Come on, I raged inwardly at myself, there must be something I could use.
And then I recalled my very first encounter with the world of magic – the instinct-based action that revealed my abilities and eventually brought me to Hogwarts. What I did before accidentally, I had to do purposedly now. Should not be so hard, right?
"That's it, Harry. There is no good and evil. There is only power... and those too weak to seek it. Together, we'll do extraordinary things. Just give me the Stone!" the last words Voldemort nearly screamed in growing impatience.
I closed my eyes and sought for the magic within me, concentrating harder than ever to gather it together and release all at once. I knew it worked as I felt already familiar warmth growing within my hands. Just a little bit more, and I will break free. Just a little more –
Harry's eyes grew darker in anger as he yelled. "You LIAR!"
"Kill him!" Voldemort screeched in pure anger.
Two things happened at once – Quirrell lounged forward to grab Harry and I broke free from the magical binds. "Harry, look out!" I yelled, jumping on Quirrell's back, raising my fist and punching Voldemort's face with all force I could muster.
Voldemort screamed in pain, or maybe anger, I did not cared. I kept on hitting, scratching, punching his ugly face, with a free hand trying to hold onto Quirrell, who was shocked at first of my unexpected attack in a pure Muggle style, however he soon came to his senses and struggled to get me off his back.
"Kill her!" Voldemort screeched at Quirrell. "Kill that Mudblood, kill them both, and get the Stone!"
Before I could react, Quirrell swung his arm backward. His elbow collided with my ribs with a force that knocked the wind out of my lungs. My fingers released the hold on his collar as I fell down. Quirrell flicked his wrist again, and invisible force lifted me up in the air and threw against one of columns.
A myriad of stars swirled before my eyes, when I hit the ground again. At the same time I felt a sharp pain in my ankle as if it has been cut with a knife. I tried to move it, but from the intensity of new wave of pain I guessed it was broken.
I had to move, had to do something to prevent Quirrell from both killing Harry and getting his hands on the Stone. I spotted my wand nearby and reached for it, but before I could cast a spell, I heard someone's scream of pain and anguish. I struggled to move in sitting position and saw a strange scene.
Harry had fallen backward on steps, but Quirrell who stood with his back on me, stared down on his hand.
"What magic is that?" he whimpered, while Harry gazed in surprise at his own hands, then back at Quirrell.
"Fool! Get the Stone!" Voldemort yelled, his face bleeding from my previous attack.
Quirrell advanced to Harry again, but the boy suddenly jumped up and grabbed Quirrell's face with both hands, causing the latest scream again. As Harry released him, Quirrell staggered back a few steps. In shock and disbelief we both watched how Quirrell's skin slowly turned into ashes and he literally crumbled apart before our eyes like a freaky sand castle.
"Now that was something new," I gasped, jumping over to him as fast as I could on one leg, collapsing on lower step. "How you did that?"
"I don't know," Harry shrugged, then he reached for the Stone. It shone with a bloody red light in his hand. "I was holding this. Maybe it somehow affected my skin?"
"Maybe," I sighed, then glanced over where Quirrell's remnants covered the most of floor. "You were brilliant, anyway. Passing through the obstacles, made by five best Hogwarts teachers and Dumbledore himself, then you found the Stone and crashed the bad guy down to ashes. Not bad for first year student, don't you think?"
"I couldn't done without you, Ron and Hermione," Harry shook his head. "So, we all did well."
I chuckled, then winced as sharp pain stabbed my ankle again. "Look, maybe you should get out of here and send someone to fetch me? I don't think I can walk myself. I reckon those flames are blocking the door only from one way."
"I'll stay with you," Harry resolutely said, "Hermione probably already sent an owl to Dumbledore. We will wait together 'til he arrives, okay?"
"And here I thought that chivalry is a dead thing in nowadays," I grinned, then winced again. Even the minor movement hurt like hell.
A strange swooshing sound reached our ears at the same time, and we turned our heads simultaneously to see something emerging from Quirrell's robes. It resembled a pillar of weird, black smoke, but then a face formed on the top of it. It took a one look at those distorted, inhuman features to know who it was.
Voldemort.
"How many times one guy can come back from dead?" I gritted my teeth.
The smoky face opened its mouth in a raged scream as it shot forward. I reached out to grab Harry and pull him off the way, but it was too late. The apparition hit him straight in chest, passing through his body, and Harry fell down on steps, unconscious. Ignoring the pain, I stumbled over to Harry, while the apparition bursted through the flames and disappeared into nothingness.
"Harry?" I gently shook him, then checked the pulse to make sure he is still alive. The pulse was there, strong and steady, and it calmed me a bit. "Harry, please, wake up! Harry!"
He mumbled something incoherent in response, and I sighed in relief. Aside from being knocked out, he was fine. "Great, now let's wait for a rescue team," I chuckled with a dry humour.
I settled on a bottom step and let my gaze roam around the room aimlessly. My eyes paused at the mirror and the inscription above. Rather out of boredom than anything else, I tried to read the words out loud to see if they would make more sense, then I read them backwards. And only then the words slowly formed their true meaning. The inscription was made in reversed manner.
I show not your face but your heart desire.
The heart desire? So, that was why Quirrell was mumbling about seeing himself holding the Stone to Voldemort. It was his greatest desire, and, naturally, the mirror showed it to him. Dumbledore's doing, no doubt.
Interesting, what would it show to me.
I shifted to get in front of it and looked at the reflection, unable to resist the damned curiousity. For a moment I saw myself as I was, but the reflection changed slowly. My own image remained, but another person had appeared next to me, sitting right besides me on marble steps. When I recognized who was it, my jaw nearly hit the ground.
It was no one else but Professor Snape.
The Snape in mirror simply sat next to me, his hand casually wrapped around my shoulders. He looked at my "mirror self" with a strange expression that was a mix of pride and admiration. To my great shock, the "mirror Bella" leaned in Snape's embrace, resting her head on his shoulder, while he gently caressed her hair in a loving manner. They both were smiling and looked absolutely happy and content.
I could not take my eyes off the image in mirror, torn between amusement and irritation. Was that what my heart desired? The Potions Master Severus Snape? Did I really desired him? No, it more seemed like a cruel joke. While I had some respect to him, there was absolutely no way I could wish to be with him like this!
"Harry? Bella?" very familiar voice suddenly sounded from the top of stairs, forcing me to look away from this image.
"Professor Dumbledore?" I exclaimed, seeing Albus Dumbledore, who waved his wand, and the fire wall dissolved. He hurried down the stairs and kneeled besides Harry, his face clearly showing worry and even fear.
"He's alive," I comforted the old man, shifting to find a better position of my ankle. "Something – I don't know what it was, but it came from Quirrell – it hit him through the chest and knocked out."
My words did not ceased his worry much, however. Dumbledore carefully examined Harry and personally made sure that Harry's life is out of danger.
"Thank Merlin, he will live," eventually Dumbledore straightened up and a small smile appeared on his face. Then his icy blue pierced my very soul with its intensity. "Are you hurt?"
I glared down at my ankle. "That git slammed me into the column. I think my ankle is broken. Otherwise I'm fine."
"Let me have a look, Bella," Dumbledore leaned down and quickly examined my ankle, touching it with his wand and murmuring something under his breath, then he straightened and smiled, his eyes twinkling. "Looks like it's not broken, merely dislocated, but I'm sure that Madam Pomfrey will know better. For now – " he cast a spell that enwrapped my leg to mid-calf in splint. " – there, it should do for now. Try to stand up."
With Dumbledore's help I finally stood up, carefully leaning support on splinted leg, sighing in relief. "Much better, thank you!"
"No, it is I who should be thankful. Have you, Miss Granger and Mr. Weasley not been here tonight to help young Harry, the things could've turn out worse."
"Harry is our friend. Of course, we were here. There was no way we could let him to go alone."
Dumbledore watched me in silence, then nodded. "Most people don't always recognize a true and loyal heart. It's hard to see it when our eyes are deceived by mask the world makes us to wear. The only way of seeing the truth is to listen to your heart."
I blinked, confused by his cryptic words. But Dumbledore did not showed that he just said anything worth of further notice. He leaned down and picked up the Stone, carefully tucking it inside his robes. Then he lifted Harry up – with no effort due to boy's skinny frame. "Let get you both to the hospital wing. You have been through a lot tonight. Time for a nice, warm bed and a lots of sleep."
With that he turned and walked away, carrying still unconscious Harry. I was about to follow him, but my eyes on their own accord turned towards the mirror. Only to see if the image had not changed, I told myself.
Once again I saw Snape and myself together, side by side, hands linked. The way Snape looked at my mirror self was rather annoying, as if we were lovers. It was weird, inappropriate, yet I stared at them – us – like hypnotized.
"Bella?" Dumbledore paused in mid-stairs and called out. "I would advise you not to look in that mirror. It does not give neither knowledge, nor truth."
"It only shows us what our hearts desire the most," I sighed, then resolutely turned my back on happy couple in mirror.
Right now my general concern was directed to Harry's well-being, yet I knew that what I saw in reflection will never leave my mind completely. I will never forget the look in Snape's face in mirror, and the more because of the knowledge that he will never look at me like that in real life.