2nd update! I think this chapter shows a more of a complex side to Lydia; more than just her normal laid back, sarcastic attitude and it was interesting to write! :)

Enjoy!

Chapter 12
That Stupid Mirror

In the morning, Harry decided to fill Ron and me in on his late night adventures he had experienced when he had ventured off after Ron and I fell asleep. He told us he had gone to the Restricted section in the library covered with his new invisibility cloak to search for Nicolas Flamel, but he had panicked when he made enough noise to attract Filch and Snape. When he was escaping, he stumbled upon a mirror. Not just an ordinary mirror either—no, this mirror showed him his long dead parents.

"You should have woken me up!" Ron complained. I didn't say anything, but merely furrowed my eyebrows. Something wasn't right.

"You can come tonight, both of you; I'm going back," Harry urged.

"I'd like to see your parents."

"And I'd like to see all the Weasleys. You can show me your older brothers!"

"Just come to my house this summer, you'll be able to see them! Plus, maybe it only shows dead people. I wish you'd found Flamel though in the Restricted section. Good opportunity to with that cloak and all."

Finally, my friends saw me frowning. "What's wrong?" Harry asked.

"So, you just stumbled upon this mirror—and it showed you your parents?" I asked slowly. Harry nodded cheerfully.

"Yeah! Amazing, isn't it?"

I paused. "I dunno, Harry. Something doesn't seem right about it. Not that it isn't good and all—that you saw your parents. But I dunno…"

"You will come tonight though, right?" he asked hopefully.

I nodded. "Of course. I want to see it for myself." The boys smiled, and I halfheartedly returned it. Whatever this mirror was, it just didn't seem right.

~o~

Of course, I should have expected that Harry had no idea how to return to the thing. The three of us spent nearly an hour huddled closely together under the invisibility cloak, trekking down dark passageways that we knew only by the light of day. But no matter what, Harry refused to go back. He was incredibly determined to find this thing.

Finally, Harry muttered excitedly, "Here it is!" We dropped the cloak from our shoulders and Harry raced up to a tall, extravagant mirror framed decoratively with gold. I stepped closer to Harry, who was staring into the mirror with glee. I only saw him, Ron and me reflected within. "See!"

"I can't see anything. Can you, Lydia?"

I shook my head. "Nothing."

"No…they're right there! There's loads!" Harry insisted eagerly. Ron and I shared an apprehensive glance. Once again, I shook my head at him. He blinked for a second, but refused to believe me or Ron. "Well, here, come where I'm standing." Ron stepped up and Harry and I moved aside.

"Woah!" Ron exclaimed.

"Can you see your family?" Harry asked readily.

"No—I'm alone, but—I'm older! I-I'm Head Boy! I have a badge like Bill used to! And I'm holding the Quidditch and house cups and—I'm Quidditch captain! I look good," Ron enthused, grinning at the last sentence. He turned excitedly to a confused Harry and me. "Do you think this mirror shows the future?

"How can it? My family's dead," Harry said glumly.

"Give me a go," I said.

"Wait! Give me a bit more time!" Ron demanded. I raised a brow.

"What? So you can drool over yourself more?" I questioned scornfully. "Come on, I haven't got to see yet!"

"I want another look too!" Harry interrupted.

"What?" Ron and I cried simultaneously. "You had it all last night," Ron added.

"I know but—"

A noise came from outside. Abruptly, my head whipped around. I was dead silent and stared at the entrance to the room similarly to how a dog watches its prey. "Get the cloak," I whispered, still gazing intently at the door. Ron obeyed and quickly threw the cloak over the three of us. We didn't even breathe as Mrs. Norris passed, watching every inch of the room for movement. I was so greatly tempted to use that new spell Fred and George taught me on her, but I resisted.

At last, the creature fled, probably to fetch her owner. Harry, Ron and I took this chance to bolt. And yet, even with evident expulsion facing us if we were caught, Harry was quite reluctant to leave.

Not only was he reluctant, but the next day he was so intrigued with that damn mirror; it consumed all of his thoughts. When he even mentioned returning to it, Ron and I refused—Ron more cautiously than I. He didn't listen as we pestered him not to go. My head started to prickle and my hair faded red with my irritation.

"Harry James Potter, don't you dare go tonight!" I ordered, my sisterly protection instincts taking over. He looked surprised.

"I—well—"he stuttered. I raised my eyebrows, intimidating him.

"Promise me!"

Unwillingly, he nodded, frowning.

That night, I lay awake, unable to fall asleep. I didn't stop Harry as he left for that mirror, like he promised he would. I shook my head angrily. What was so special about that stupid mirror? I get it, he saw his parents in it—but it was just a reflection. It would never, as much as he hoped, be the real thing! I wished he would face that fact.

What would have I seen in that mirror? Would I have seen my family like Harry—or would I have seen my future like Ron? Maybe if I looked in it, I would have seen myself as Quidditch captain. I would love to be Quidditch captain! Or maybe I could have laid my eyes on my parents' faces for the first time. I could imagine it—a young version of my dad. He looked exactly like me, only, you know, male. And then I pictured what my mother would look like—a very beautiful woman with chocolate brown eyes like mine.

I've heard that you've got into Hogwarts as well; a year early even!

For some reason, those words from my father's letter to me back in September popped into my mind. I hadn't wondered about it much until now. A year early…why did I get in a year early? Was it like Black said—that Dumbledore wanted me to be with Harry? Or maybe I was so close to August 31st that Dumbledore didn't bother with placing me a year later. With all of these thoughts racing through my mind, it wasn't until very late at night that I slept.

~o~

Whatever had happened to Harry that third night, he never returned again to the mirror. However, I was still mad at him for breaking his promise to me. "Lydia, I'm sorry! It won't happen again!" he begged. I only crossed my arms pointedly. When he realized it wasn't working, he sighed. "And it's not like I could anyway. It's being moved." I became considerably more cheery after hearing this little bit of information.

"Fine!" I gave up. "But seriously, don't do it again." He smiled apologetically.

I returned to the girls' dormitory once the Christmas break was over since Hermione and the other boys were now back. I was glad to hear that Hermione was just as resentful of that mirror as I was—and yet, it kind of made me question if I was, to my horror, turning into a goody-goody like her! Time to start hanging around Fred and George again!

Speaking of the Weasley twins, I was currently watching as they dive-bombed each other during Quidditch practice and pretended to fall off their brooms. Irritated, Wood let it slip that Snape would be refereeing the next Quidditch match against Hufflepuff. At his words, George really did fall off his broom. Great, Snape refereeing a game that would eventually lead us to a game against Slytherin—this would be just perfect…

Ron and Hermione were baffled and terrified when we told them about it. "Don't play," said Hermione.

"Say your ill," added Ron.

"Pretend to break your leg."

"Really break your leg!"

Neville chose this time to fall into the common room, his legs stuck together like glue. It was clearly the Leg-locker Curse. Everyone in the common room except Hermione toppled over with laughter. I bit my lip to stop from laughing. Hermione raced over to help and performed the countercurse.

"Malfoy," he explained to us. "He was outside the library and he said he was looking for someone to practice on." Hermione shook her head in disbelief.

"That's horrible! Go to McGonagall! Report him!" she urged, but Neville shook his head immediately.

"I don't want any more trouble," he mumbled barely incoherent.

"Or just do what I do, hit him with pure sarcasm," I grinned. "Or punch him in the face. Course I haven't done that yet. It's on my to do list…near the top." Neville smiled this time, but once again shook his head.

"You've got to stand up to him, Neville!" Ron said. "He walks all over people constantly, and those people just let him do it!"

Neville looked as if he would cry. "No need to tell me I'm not brave enough to be a Gryffindor, Malfoy's already done that."

"Hey! Don't talk like that!" I broke in. "You are a Gryffindor, aren't you? Clearly there was a reason the Sorting Hat placed you here!" He flushed red as I smiled kindly at him.

Handing him a Chocolate Frog, Harry added, "You're worth twelve of Malfoy. You're a Gryffindor. And where's Malfoy? In stinking Slytherin." Between the both of us, he smiled slightly.

"Thanks guys…oh here, do you want the card? I know you collect them?" Neville asked and handed Harry the card before heading to bed. Neville did get on my nerves sometimes, but I really did feel sorry for him. He was so shy and sweet and didn't deserve a lot of the bullying he received from both Malfoy and Snape.

"Flamel!" I jumped as Harry's sudden burst of excitement.

"Flamel!" I repeated, startled.

"No listen! I knew I've heard the name before! I read it on Dumbledore's card when I got it on the train here! Listen to this: 'Dumbledore is particularly famous for his defeat of the dark wizard Grindewald in 1945, for the discovery of the twelve uses of dragon blood, and for his work on alchemy with his partner, Nicolas Flamel!'"

I've never seen Hermione so excited in the time I've known her. She raced up to our dorm and returned with a heavy black book. "I picked this out for a bit of light reading. I never thought to look in it!"

"This is light?" Ron said incredulously, but Hermione shushed him and flicked through the pages frantically. She turned to the page she was searching for and pointed to the line enthusiastically. "Nicolas Flamel is the only known maker of the Sorcerer's Stone!"

"The what?" Harry, Ron and I said confused.

"Honestly, don't you read? 'The Sorcerer's Stone is a legendary substance with astonishing powers. It will transform any metal into pure gold and produce the Elixir of Life which will make the drinker immortal.'"

"Immortal?" questioned Ron.

"'Last year Nicolas Flamel celebrated his six hundred and sixty-fifth birthday and resides peacefully in Devon with his wife Perenelle (six hundred and fifty-eight),'" Hermione read in response. My jaw dropped. How could anyone be that old? "That's what Fluffy's guarding. That's what's under that trapdoor. The Sorcerer's Stone."

After a silent pause, I voice what we were all thinking. "And Snape's after it."

~o~

The Quidditch match approached closer and closer and the team grew increasingly more nervous. By the day of the game, the butterflies in my stomach were almost a terrible as my first game. I listened intently to Wood's pep talk, trying to take my mind off Snape and the fact that we'd be playing his team if we beat Hufflepuff.

"Everyone's out there—bloody hell, is that Dumbledore?" Fred told us. Harry looked very relieved oddly enough. We soon marched out onto the fresh field, earning cheers from the school. Both Harry and I noticed that Snape looked positively murderous. But why?

The whistle was blown and the fourteen Quidditch players took off into the air. Fred and I whacked the few Bludgers out of the way of our players, but stayed off to the side. Fred had taken one opportunity to hit a Bludger at Snape, which earned Hufflepuff a free shot, but I'd agree with Fred any day. It was completely worth it!

I watched the game intently and angrily (Snape gave Hufflepuff another penalty for no reason), not too far away from where my friends were sitting. My ears perked up when I heard Malfoy's voice start up again. "I think I've caught onto how they choose people for the Gryffindor team. They pick people they feel sorry for. There's Potter, who's got no parents; Black, who's got no class; the Weasleys, who've got no money—you should be on the team, Longbottom, you've got no brains." I let my increasing fury out by hitting another Bludger that was shot in my direction.

"I'm worth twelve of you, Malfoy," I heard Neville say bravely. I smiled. Good job, Neville!

"You tell him, Neville," Ron said over Malfoy and his bodyguards' laughter.

"Longbottom, if brains were gold you'd be poorer than Weasley, and that's saying something!" I couldn't take it anymore; my hair was already blazing red. I whirled around on my broom.

"SHUT IT, MALFOY!" I bellowed thunderous enough so he could hear me loud and clear. He peered up, and even from the height, I could still see the sneer plastered on his face.

"And then there's Black, the soon to be fugitive! I bet you won't even last long enough in Hogwarts to see a Quidditch cup!" he yelled. His statement directed towards me didn't affect me at all. His insults of my friends, however, infuriated me to the extreme.

"You're forgetting, Malfoy, that not only am I the one of us with a heavy bat, but also the one that is able to use said bat to hit Bludgers at people!" I glowered viciously. Suddenly, the crowd cheered. I swiveled around just in time to watch Harry's spectacular dive. When he pulled up from the drop, he held the snitch in his hand. I almost fell from my broom with my cry of excitement. That game lasted barely 5 minutes! Was that a record?

I, along with the rest of our team, trampled Harry jubilantly. Thanks to Harry, Gryffindor was in first place!

~o~

"It really is Snape—he's trying to force Quirrell to help him get the Stone!" Harry told Ron, Hermione and I later that night. He had been gone for quite a bit of time, before he returned frantically and pulled us into an empty classroom. "He asked if Quirrell knew how to get pass Fluffy. I'm thinking that there are other things guarding the Stone besides Fluffy—like enchantments, something that Quirrell needs to perform a…anti-Dark Arts spell that Snape needs to break through."

"So," Hermione started, "the Stone is only safe as long as Quirrell stands up to Snape?"

"Because Quirrell is the only one that knows how to get pass those enchantments?" I clarified.

"I'll be gone by next Tuesday," Ron stated solemnly.

"Maybe less," I agreed.

Thanks for reading and please review! I'm gonna try something new for reviewing. After reading this chapter, just rate it! Here are the ratings:

5 (best)—Sirius Black
4—Neville Longbottom
3—Dobby
2—Quirinius Quirrell
1 (worst)—Dolores Umbridge

Rate and if possible, tell me what you liked/disliked about it!

CaptJess :)