Chapter 13: Mirror, Mirror

January 5th, 2013, Hogwarts

Harry smiled as he chatted with Ron and Tim in their room. They all had returned that day and classes would resume the next day. The damage done to the castle had been repaired, and it had returned to its former glory. Harry was busy telling his friends what he had done over his vacation.

"So you actually used the Jelly-Leg Jinx on this guy?" Ron asked, "Bloody Hell, that must have taken some guts from what you've told us about this git."

"Thanks," Harry said, scratching the back of his head, "Still if Straw hadn't showed up, Sands would have pounded me into the ground."

"I bet," Tim chuckled, "So did you get anything interesting for Christmas?"

"Yeah," Harry said as he walked over to the trunk. Rummaging through it, he pulled out the invisibility cloak.

"Whoever sent it didn't leave their name, but they said it belonged to my father," he said as he put it on. The other two gasped in surprise as Harry disappeared from view.

"An invisibility cloak!" Ron exclaimed.

"Whoa, that's pretty awesome," Tim said.

"I bet you could get around the whole castle without anyone noticing you. Not even Filch!" Ron exclaimed.

"Is that a challenge?" Harry asked, lowering his hood and smiling mischievously.

"Oh, I got a challenge," Tim smirked.

Later

Harry breathed lightly beneath his cloak. He was currently hiding in one of the darkened corners of the castle, trying to remain as stealthy as possible. He was starting to question whether this was a good idea or not.

Tim had heard that even though Filch is a squib, he was still trying to learn magic from a book specifically designed to help squibss. Tim dared Harry to go see if it was true. So here Harry was, silently moving through the halls towards Filch's quarters.

The halls of the castle were incredibly creepy at night. They were dark and empty, with every sound echoing down the hall. The atmosphere was spooky, and it didn't help that Harry knew that ghosts roamed the hall, or worse, that Straw had come back with them.

Easing his way down the hallways, Harry made his way to the door leading to Flich's room. Freezing in place, Harry saw the door was closed and tried to figure out how to get past the door without getting caught. In the end, he just settled on just knocking on the door.

As soon as he did, he heard footsteps rushing towards the door before it was flung open. Filch stood before him, brandishing a shotgun, Mrs. Norris at his feet.

"Who's there!" he demanded, looking around wildly.

Harry let out a small yelp of surprise as he leaped backwards.

"I can hear you! Invisible, eh? Peeves if that's you, I've been designing a gun that'll let me kill you a second time!" Filch shouted into the darkness.

Harry tried to silently sneak away, but Mrs. Norris suddenly turned in his direction, letting out a loud hiss as she arched his back. Filch turned and pointed his gun in Harry's direction. Harry in turn, whirled around and raced away down the hallway.

Harry breathed quickly as he hustled down the hall, hearing the booming of Filch's boots behind him. He had to hide. Seeing an unmarked door to his right, he rushed over to it. Grabbing his door, he pulled, but found it locked. Whipping out his wand, he pointed it at the lock.

"Alahmora" he whispered, causing the lock to glow before clicking open. Harry quickly pulled it open before ducking inside and gently pulling it closed. Harry tried to remain utterly quite as he placed his ear against the door, listing as Filch's footsteps boomed past before fading away. As Harry let out a sigh as a sense of deja vous swept over him.

Remembering what happened last time he ran into a strange room, he whirled around and examined it. Luckily, there was no giant, three headed dog guarding a trap door. Instead there was a largely empty room, the only thing of interest being a large covered piece of furniture.

Harry couldn't explain it, but he felt something urging him to uncover whatever what was beneath the covering. Letting his cloak down, Harry pulled the covering off, revealing a large ornate mirror beneath it. Above the glass was written "erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi"

Harry slowly, almost reverently touched the glass. Suddenly, Harry saw two people walk up behind him in the reflection. Whirling around, Harry found the room completely empty. Turning back, he looked at the two people.

There was a man and a woman apparently in their early twenties wearing black cloaks. The man had short, black hair, and wore glasses over his brown eyes. The woman was pretty, with auburn hair that came down to her shoulders, and familiar green eyes. They were both smiling at him and the man placed his hand on Harry's shoulder. Harry jerked in surprise at the phantom weight and looked over at his shoulder, just to check to see if there really was a hand there.

Turning back, a thought came to Harry as he looked at the phantom reflections.

"You're my parents, aren't you?" he asked.

They nodded and smiled at him.

Harry felt tears well up in his eyes as he sat down in front of the mirror. He lost all sense of time as he sat before that mirror, staring into its reflective depths.

The next night

"Come on guys," Harry muttered beneath the cloak as he entered the room. Closing the door, he flung off the cloak, revealing Tim and Ron with him.

"It's right over here," Harry explained eagerly, walking over to the mirror and uncovering it.

"Come on!" Harry said, beckoning his friends over.

Grabbing Ron by the shoulders, he positioned him in front of the mirror.

"There do you see them?" Harry asked excitedly.

"See who Harry?" Ron asked.

"My parents!" Harry exclaimed, pointing at the mirror.

"There's no one there, Harry. Just me," he said before he examined the mirror more closely, "But I look taller then normal, and older. And I'm Headboy! And Captain of the Quidditch Team. Dumbledore's there and he's shaking my hand. I think I won the Quidditch Cup!"

"What?" Harry questioned, looking at Ron with a confused face before turning to Tim, "Tim, you try"

Tim nodded before stepping in front of the mirror, having to gently push Ron out of the way.

"What do you see?" Ron asked.

"I see," Tim said gently, almost whispering, "my mother."

"Your mother?" Harry asked.

"She died, years ago," Tim said, reaching out for the mirror while shaking his head. Suddenly, he pulled his hand back as if it had been burned, while shaking his head vigorously.

"I don't like this, Harry," Tim said, quickly stepping to the side so he wasn't in front of the mirror any longer, "I think we should leave."

"I…I don't understand," Harry whispered to himself, scratching his head in confusion.

"Come on, Harry," Ron said while placing his hand on Harry's shoulder, snapping Harry back to reality. "Tim's right, we should probably be getting back."

"Right," Harry replied, unfurling the invisibility cloak before taking one last glance at the mirror, "Let's go."

The next night

Harry wasn't sure what he was doing. All he knew is that he couldn't stop thinking about the mirror, or what he saw in it. So here he was again, sitting in front of the mirror in the dead of night, staring into it's depths with his invisibility cloak pooled around him. He couldn't even remember the trip here, so engrossed with thoughts of the mirror he was.

Confusion still ate away at the back of his thoughts. Why had Tim and Ron seen something different then what he had seen? The mirror was obviously magical, that was certain, but what did it do exactly?

"Hello, Harry," a voice said from behind Harry.

Letting out a yelp of fright, Harry jumped to his feet and whirled around. Before him stood Professor Dumbledore.

"P-Professor!" Harry exclaimed in surprise.

"Mr. Filch said I would find you here tonight," Dumbledore mused.

"Filch?" Harry asked, his face paling.

"Yes, Mr. Filch is a bit more experienced and knowledgeable then you might think," Dumbledore explained.

"So I see you found the Mirror of Ersid," Dumbledore continued.

"The Mirror of Ersid?" Harry asked.

"It's magical, as you can tell. It reflects not you, but your heart's desire," Dumbledore explained.

"Your heart's desire?" Harry whispered to himself.

"What do you see in the mirror, Harry?" Dumbledore asked.

"…My parents," Harry said, looking at his feet.

"Of course," Dumbledore replied, smiling sadly.

"What do you see Professor?" Harry asked suddenly.

"…Socks," said after a long look at the mirror.

"Socks?" Harry questioned.

"One can never have too many socks," Dumbledore explained, "I didn't get any for Christmas, everyone assumed I wanted books."

Harry smirked before glancing back at the mirror.

"They're not real, Harry," Dumbledore said cautiously, "The mirror shows neither knowledge, nor truth, only desires. Men have wasted away in front of it."

"Why is it here?" Harry asked.

"For safe keeping," Dumbledore explained, "I wouldn't come looking for it again. I feel it needs to be moved."

"Yes, sir," Harry replied, slightly ashamed.

"Now, would you please come with me to my office, Harry?" Dumbledore asked, opening the door to the room.

"Yes, sir," Harry agreed, gulping with nervousness.

Dumbledore stepped aside to let Harry pass. As he did, he took one last glance at the mirror. He was surprised when he saw that the glass was glowing a slight green, and he swore he could hear faint whispering. But as soon as it had begun, the glowing and whispering stopped.

Shaking his head slightly, Dumbledore gave the mirror a questioning glance, before following Harry out the door.

Dumbeldore's office

"Do you know why I brought you here, Harry?" Dumbledore asked.

"Because I was out after curfew?" Harry guessed.

"No, Harry," Dumbledore chuckled, "I wanted to talk to you about something."

"What?" Harry asked.

"Well, you," Dumbledore explained.

"Me?" Harry questioned.

Dumbledore sighed before continuing, "Do you know why Voldemort came to your house the night he killed your parents?"

Harry sat in his chair for a few moments in stunned silence.

"N-No, sir" he finally managed to answer.

"Well the answer is twofold. The first reason is more obvious. Your parents were members of the Order of the Phoenix," Dumbledore explained.

"The Order of the Phoenix?" Harry questioned.

"It was an organization I created to battle Lord Voldemort. Your friends Ron and Neville's parents were part of it as well."

"What was the other reason?" Harry asked.

"Do you know what a prophecy is?" Dumbledore questioned.

"Yes. It's when someone predicts the future isn't it?" Harry responded.

"Yes, it is. Well among the unique abilities some wizard's posses the ability to make prophecies," Dumbledore explained.

"What does it have to do with me?" Harry questioned.

"When you were born, a prophecy was made," Dumbledore said, sighing before he continued, "One involving you and Voldemort."

"Me and…Voldemort?"

"Yes"

"What did it say?"

"It said that a wizard had been born who could defeat Voldemort, and that only one of you could live."

"So Voldemort came…because he was trying to kill me?" Harry asked, his eyes wide.

"Yes," Dumbledore replied solemnly.

"So my parents are dead…because of me?" Harry asked, sorrow in his voice.

"What?" Dumbledore said, rising from his chair, "By all means, no Harry."

"But you said Voldemort killed my parents because-"

"Because he was a horrible human being who was afraid of and willing to kill a child," Dumbledore interrupted, walking around the desk and placing his hand on Harry's shoulder.

"Your parents' death was never your fault, and it never will be your fault," Dumbledore said comfortingly.

Harry sniffed, and rubbed his eyes, wiping the tears that threatened to spill down his cheek.

"So, I guess you thought I fulfilled the prophecy?" Harry asked.

"Yes, I did," Dumbledore responded while straightening up, "But recent events have made me reconsider."

"Was that his ghost that was controlling Professor Quirrel?" Harry asked.

"No, but it was certainly something like his spirit. It appears Voldemort is not dead, but he is not fully alive either."

"How is that possible?" Harry asked.

"I have some ideas, but I'm not entirely certain," Dumbledore answered, "The point is that I believe it is likely Voldemort might return sometime in the future."

"And you think I'll have to fight him?" Harry asked.

"Most certainly," Dumbledore responded, "which is why we must start training you."

"Training me?" Harry asked.

"I had wished to give you a proper childhood, Harry, but others have pointed me to the reality of the situation. Voldemort may very well return, and he will come after you if he does. So you must be prepared to face him when he does," Dumbledore explained, walking back to the other side of his desk.

"So are you going to train me?" Harry asked, slightly eager.

"I'm sorry, I can't do that personally, it could be misconstrued as some type of favoritism, which would be very inappropriate for a headmaster such as myself. I train your friend Tim because his powers could be a threat to the safety of others, not to make him a better wizard, for example."

"Oh," Harry replied, sadly.

"Luckily, you are now staying with the B.P.R.D. and as such you have access to a number of skilled trainers, including your friend Raven."

"Raven's going to train me?" Harry asked, excited.

"Indeed, I have already discussed with her, and she has agreed to act as your tutor."

"Wow," Harry said smiling brightly.

"It's good to see you are so eager to learn," Dumbledore commented, a twinkle in his eyes.

"Well, if Voldemort ever does come for me, I want to be ready for him, sir," Harry explained.

"That is very courageous of you, Harry," Dumbledore commented.

"Thank you sir," Harry smiled, "Um, is that all?"

"Yes, Harry you may leave, but do so quietly," Dumbledore said, making a shooing motion at him.

Harry smiled before standing up and whirling the cloak over himself, disappearing from view.

"Actually Harry, I'd like to say one more thing," Dumbledore said as Harry reached the door.

"What's that, sir?" Harry asked, dropping the hood of the cloak so Dumbledore could see him.

"I'm sorry," he said, his face saddening.

"Sorry for what, sir?" Harry asked, confused.

"Sorry for placing you at the Dursley's," he explained, "and for not taking you away from them sooner."

"It's alright, sir," Harry replied, "I'm sure you had more important things to worry about."

"That's no excuse, Harry," Dumbledore waved off Harry's reply, "I still should have checked in on you and made sure you were safe."

"But you're the reason I'm not there anymore. If you hadn't sent Hagrid and June after me, I might still be with them."

"I suppose that's true," Dumbledore relented.

"Well, good night sir. And thank you. For everything," Harry said with a smile, before putting his hood back up and disappearing through the door.

Dumbledore smiled before leaning back in his chair. Letting out a sigh, Dumbledore closed his eyes, listening to the sounds of the portraits of his predecessors sleeping. Albus had grown quite foreign to the feeling of contentment, so he decided to enjoy it while the feeling lasted.

A/N: Sorry this chapter took so long, life kept getting in the way. Also, I hope you guys liked how Dumbledore's confession came out. It's been building up for awhile now so I hope it was what was expected. I'll try to get the next chapter out sooner this time. Until then, Later True Believers!