CHAPTER FOURTEEN: MIRROR, MIRROR

History of Magic Classroom

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Scotland

12 December 1991

"And then," Professor Binns droned, "the Roman empire fell, leaving a power vacuum in Europe."

Ron doodled idly on his parchment, having given up paying attention half an hour ago. Hermione, of course, was busy taking notes, and Harry was creating a pile of drool on his parchment. Ron glanced over at the Hufflepuffs. Leanne Malone and Sally Smith were busy playing hangman, but everyone else was writing at least something down.

Ron looked sheepishly at his parchment which contained many drawings of Malfoy reimagined as a flobberworm and nothing related to class.

"As an overview for our next class, we will cover post-Unification Britannia. After the Great Unity of Wales and England," Professor Binns continued, "political structure began to form. True government would not emerge for several hundred years, however, after the merging with the Kingdom of Caledonia, now known as Scotland, and the Éire Republic, now known as Ireland. Now, for homework tonight - "

There was a great clattering as students rose from their respective stupors.

" - I expect six inches on the clan structure of the Kingdom of Caledonia and another six inches on the covens of the Éire Republic." With that, Professor Binns rose from his desk and floated back through the chalkboard.

Ron quickly jotted down the homework, rolled his parchment, and stuffed it in his bag. He was just about to head out the classroom door when someone shoved him from behind. Ron whirled around, and was greeted by the sight of Zacharias Smith's square face.

"What do you want, Smith?"

"Is it true you're staying at Hogwarts over the winter hols?" Smith demanded.

Ron's brow furrowed. "How's that any of your business?"

"Is it because your family is too poor to handle having all you kids home?"

"No! Mum's going to visit Charlie in Romania - "

"Oh, and she can't afford to take the rest of you along?" Smith sneered.

Ron was starting to get angry. Malfoy commenting about his money was one thing, but Smith starting in was a whole 'nother. "Look, Smith, you better shut your gob - "

"Or what? Your father will lay down the law?" Smith feigned remembrance. "Oh right, your stupid muggle-loving father got himself blown up, just like all his equally dumb brothers. You're a spare, just like him. Bet you're secretly hoping for your brothers to be blown up so you can have a chance at power."

Ron saw red. "Don't you dare talk about my family like that! My uncles and my aunt and my cousins were all murdered by You-Know-Who and his Death Eaters! Oddly enough, I don't remember your family being murdered," Ron snapped. "Maybe your precious father was too busy schmoozing with You-Know-Who!"

"Shut your filthy, slanderous mouth - "

"What," said a cold voice, "is going on here?"

Ron swallowed hard. He knew that voice all too well.

"Mr. Weasley? Would you care to explain?"

Ron opened his mouth to defend himself, but Smith interrupted him.

"Weasley started saying all these heinous things about my family!" Smith whined. "He obviously doesn't even know what he's talking about. You can't just go around insulting a Moste Ancient house like that!"

"Are you done with your little rant, Mr. Smith?" Professor Snape asked coolly. "Yes? Very well then. Both of you will follow me to my office."

They followed Professor Snape silently, Smith shooting Ron dirty looks all the way down to the dungeons. With a murmured word, the door to Professor Snape's office swung open, then closed quietly behind them.

"Sit," Professor Snape said, pointing to the hard wooden chairs.

"But we'll miss lunch!" Smith protested.

"How careless of you," Professor Snape quipped.

A small grin made its way onto Ron's face.

"Something funny, Mr. Weasley?"

"No, sir," Ron said hurriedly, schooling his features.

"Good. Now, Mr. Smith, you claimed Mr. Weasley slandered your family?"

"Yes! And he has no right to do so!"

Ron had a retort on the tip of his tongue and was about to lash out at Smith when Professor Snape quirked an eyebrow. Ron looked at Professor Snape in confusion as Smith continued to spew lies about him. Then, it dawned on him. Smith was digging his own grave, and all Ron had to do was sit quietly. It rankled him a bit, but the feeling of being in on one of Professor Snape's plans made up for it.

"…and then he accused my relatives of conspiring with You-Know-Who - "

Professor Snape held up a hand. "Mr. Smith, I have heard enough. Mr. Weasley?"

"Yes? Sir?"

"What is your side the story?"

Ron took a deep breath. He needed to stay calm. "Smith started harassing me after History of Magic," he began, "He was making fun of my family and how my siblings and I are staying at Hogwarts over Yule. He then began insulting my family's wealth and my relatives who passed during the Dark Uprising. I - " Ron purposely stumbled, "I shouldn't have lost my temper, but it brought up a lot of bad memories and - "

"He's lying!" Smith spit. "He - "

Professor Snape flicked his wand.

Smith's mouth kept moving, but no words came out.

"Wicked," Ron breathed before he could stop himself.

"Thank you, Mr. Weasley. Now, Mr. Smith, I find myself at odds with your conclusion that Mr. Weasley is lying. Your recollection most certainly does not correlate with my own observations of the situation. I will lift the Silencing Charm if you can control your language - "

Smith nodded vigorously.

Professor Snape flicked his wand.

"But I'm the scion of the Moste Ancient House of Hufflepuff!" Smith complained.

Ron rolled his eyes. Smith really was an idiot.

"Yes, you are."

"And Ron isn't!"

"Mr. Weasley is not."

"So, he can't tell me what to do!"

"And why is that?"

"Because my House is older than his!"

Ron watched with glee as Professor Snape readied the proverbial knife. Now he understood where Professor Snape was going with his plan!

"Really? I seem to recall things differently. House Weasley is a Noble and Moste Ancient House, and if that is not enough, they also control the Prewett and Gryffindor seats. House Prewett is an Ancient and Noble House, and House Gryffindor is a Moste Ancient House. Any one of those seats would equal your Hufflepuff claim, but all three of them together…" Professor Snape clucked his tongue disapprovingly. "I believe you are incorrect, Mr. Smith. Very incorrect. Twenty points from Hufflepuff for your misbehaviour."

"But you have no right! You don't know anything about pureblood society! My father said you're just a halfblood!"

Something flashed in Professor Snape's eyes, but it was too quick for Ron to name. "Make it forty points, Mr. Smith. Need I remind you that I am a professor at this school while you are merely a student? I will not tolerate any impertinence or disrespect. I suggest you leave this office before there are further consequences for your actions."

Smith stumbled to his feet and headed towards the door.

"Oh, and Mr. Smith? I suggest you take a closer look at genealogy charts before you make any more false accusations."

Smith suddenly couldn't get out of the door fast enough, leaving Ron alone with Professor Snape.

"You have Herbology next, Mr. Weasley?"

"Er, yeah."

Professor Snape checked his wristwatch. "You do not have sufficient time to get lunch," he observed. "You ought to have planned better, Mr. Weasley. I expect greater things from you than partaking in ridiculous school boy squabbles. That sort of behavior should not only be below you as a scion of powerful House, but also as a Slytherin. Your conduct today was borderline deplorable, and only slightly redeemed because you had the sense to keep your mouth shut whilst I spoke with Mr. Smith."

Ron stared at his worn shoes. "I'm sorry, sir."

"As you should be. I suppose you will be hungry now, too. Pity that you do not have time to go to the Great Hall."

"I'll be fine, sir," Ron said, ignoring the rumbling protests from his stomach.

"I will be the judge of that." Professor Snape snapped his fingers, "Tilly!"

A house elf popped into view.

"Bring a sandwich platter and a flagon of pumpkin juice for Mr. Weasley."

Ron could feel his ears turning pink as the elf popped back to the kitchen. "You didn't have to do that for me, sir."

Professor Snape looked at him strangely, but didn't say anything.

Tilly the house elf popped back into existence, placed a large tray of ham and turkey sandwiches in front of Ron along with a flagon of pumpkin juice.

"I trust you will get to class on time and not destroy my office?"

Ron blinked. "Um, of course. Sir."

Professor Snape stood, and turned to leave. Ron hastily finished chewing. "Sir? Are you not going to eat?"

"No."

He swept out of the room, leaving a slightly confused Ron behind. Shrugging, Ron bit into the next sandwich. Professor Snape was way cooler than he originally thought.

First Year Slytherin Dormitory

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Scotland

25 December 1991

Bump.

"Ron, wake up!"

Bump.

"Oi, Ron!"

Bump.

"There are presents!" Harry shouted in an overly perky, happy voice.

Ron groaned. "I'm sleeping!" he protested.

"Not anymore!" sang Harry. "C'mon!"

Ron opened an eye. "Eeuch! Why are you so close to my face?"

"Sorry," Harry said sheepishly, backing away. "So, presents?"

"Yeah, sure," Ron said blearily, still trying to come to terms with being vertical.

"I still can't believe it," Harry was babbling.

Ron felt like he was missing something crucial. "You can't believe what?"

"That I got presents!"

"Harry… what do you mean, that you got presents?

"… that I got presents," Harry replied, sounding slightly confused.

"Is that not normal?"

"Well… not really. I mean, the Dursleys usually give me things, but coat hangers and Uncle Vernon's old sweat socks."

A silence descended over them.

"Er, let's open those presents then, yeah?" Ron finally said, eyeing the pile of gifts at the end of Harry's bed, "Bet you've got something better than sweat socks this year." Or at least one thing better than sweat socks, Ron noted privately. The lumpy package wrapped in coarse brown paper could only be a Weasley jumper.

Ron resisted the urge to bang his head on the bedside table. Why had he mentioned Harry to his mother? He really should have known she would do something embarrassing, not to mention something they plainly couldn't afford.

Ron turned to his own pile of gifts. There was the typical lumpy package from Mum, an assortment of smaller boxes wrapped in pages from the Daily Prophet, which had to be from his brothers, and a square box neatly wrapped in polka dot paper with a red bow on top.

Ron tore open the package from Mum - the jumper was maroon, again - and moved onto the gifts from his brothers. Bill had sent him a book on chess techniques along with a couple of Galleons spending money while Charlie gave him a dragon leather wand sheath with a note explaining it was also a birthday present. Percy, on the other hand, had given him a homework planner. Ron eyed the last Daily Prophet wrapped package suspiciously. It could only be from Fred and George, which meant it was probably booby trapped.

Ron sniffed the package gingerly, then coughed. Dungbombs. Fred and George had sent him dungbombs.

"You alright?" asked Harry, who was already sporting a chunky emerald green jumper.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Ron said, "Just inhaled dungbomb fumes. Fred and George try to prank my Yule gifts every year."

"Ah. Er, tell your mum thanks for the jumper! It's real cozy."

"Alright." Ron eyed the box of chocolate frogs sitting on Harry's bedspread. "Say, who gave you the chocolate frogs?"

"Hermione. Bet she gave you something too," Harry said, pointing towards the polka dot gift. "She used that paper on my present."

Ron tore into the package, revealing a large box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans. "Aww, nice! Hey, d'you think I could pick out all the nasty ones and give them to Fred and George as a prank?"

Harry wasn't paying attention.

"Harry?"

"I've got a note," Harry said slowly. "It's not sighed though."

"What's it say?"

Harry wordlessly passed the note over.

Your father left this in my possession before he died, Ron read. Use it well. A very merry Christmas to you. "Well, that's bloody strange! Go on, open it. Be careful though. Just in case it's dangerous."

Harry gingerly unwrapped the paper, revealing a puddle of silvery fabric. "Should I…" Harry asked, gesturing at the fabric.

"Yeah, it looks alright."

Harry pulled the fabric out of its packaging, revealing a long cloak. "Guess I'll try it on." He pulled it over his shoulders, and abruptly disappeared.

"Blimey!"

"What?"

"That's - that's an invisibility cloak!" Ron exclaimed. "They're incredibly rare, not to mention insanely valuable. Who do you reckon gave it to you?"

"Dunno. The note had no name."

"Huh. That's odd."

Harry wandered over to the mirror. "Bloody hell, I really am invisible!"

"Yeah. So, what are you going to do?"

"What do you mean?"

"You have an invisibility cloak! You can go wherever you want!"

A pensive look settled over Harry's face. "Didn't Hermione say there might be books on Nicolas Flamel in the Restricted Section?"

First Year Slytherin Dormitory

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Scotland

26 December 1991

"Ron! Ron wake up!" Harry whispered urgently. "I found something. You've got to come along…"

Ron groaned. "Can't it wait until morning?"

"No!"

Ron yawned loudly. "You sure?"

"Yes!"

Ron blinked blearily. "Alright. Give me a mo'," he yawned again. "You sure this is important?"

"Yes!"

Ron grudgingly slipped out of bed and into his slippers. Harry quickly threw the cloak over the two of them, and they snuck out of the dormitory.

"My toes are freezing," Ron complained quietly. They'd been wandering the corridors for quite some time, and Ron had forgotten to wear socks. "Let's just go back some other time."

"No!" Harry hissed. "I know it's here somewhere."

They continued walking, Ron's feet almost dead with cold.

"It's here!" Harry whispered excitedly, pointing towards a suit of armor. "Just here - yes!"

The door creaked open, and they slipped inside. Harry dropped the cloak from his shoulders and rushed over to a tall ornate mirror. Ron frowned. The mirror nearly reached the ceiling, and its intricate gold frame ended in two clawed feet. The inscription erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi scrolled across the top. Ron shivered. Something about the mirror felt wrong. It felt dangerous. It carried the feeling of something other.

Harry knelt before the mirror, enraptured. "See?" he asked.

"I don't see anything. Just you and the mirror."

"Look!" Harry insisted. "Look at them all…there are loads of them…"

Ron's brow furrowed. He didn't like this. Didn't like this at all. "I can only see you."

Harry tore his gaze away from the mirror. "Try standing where I was standing."

Ron shuffled into place, and for a moment, the mirror only held the image of him in his too short paisley pajamas. Then, it rippled.

Ron gasped. He was suddenly older, and dressed in the deep violet robes of the Wizengamot. His hair was longer, like his brother Bill's, and tied back in a queue. His trousers were a deep immaculate black, and his shirt a crisp white. A dark grey vest peeked out of the top of his robes, and the Weasley family crest shone brightly from the left breast of his robes.

He looked confident. He looked powerful.

"Look at me," Ron breathed, his former apprehension washing away. Maybe the mirror showed the future. Maybe it -

"Can you see your family standing around you?" Harry asked.

Ron looked at him in confusion. "No - I'm different - I'm a Wizengamot Lord -"

"What?"

"I am - I've got the robes, the family crest - D'you reckon this mirror shows the future?"

Harry stared at his shoes. "No. How can it? All my family are dead."

"So that's what you see?"

"Yeah. Me. My mum. My dad. My grandparents."

Ron swallowed. Was there something wrong with him? Was there a reason he, too, wasn't seeing his family?

"Move over," said Harry. "I want another look."

"You've already had a turn - "

"What's so interesting about being a Wizengamot Lord? I want to see my parents."

"Hey!" Ron protested as Harry gave him a shove. "Don't push me!"

"Meow."

Harry and Ron froze.

"Is that - -"

" - Mrs. Norris?"

They shared a look of horror.

"Quick! Under the cloak!"

No sooner had they vanished beneath the cloak then Mrs. Norris slinked through the door. They stood silently as she stared at them with her lamp-like eyes. Ron crossed his fingers. Hopefully the cloak worked on cats. After an age, Mrs. Norris left.

"Let's go," Ron said. "Can't risk Mrs. Norris coming back with Filch." With that, Ron pulled a reluctant Harry out of the room.

Slytherin Common Room

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Scotland

30 December, 1992

"Hey, Harry?" Ron asked, looking up from Auror Bartleby and the Ancient Tower. "Do you reckon Hogwarts has a lower dungeon for prisoners?"

Harry shrugged.

"C'mon, you must be curious!"

"Eh."

Ron glanced over in concern. Harry had been slightly withdrawn ever since they'd found that stupid mirror. Ron was starting to worry about him. "Are you alright, mate?"

Harry shrugged again.

Ron's eyes darted around the room. "Look," he said, leaning in closer, "this isn't about that mirror, it it?"
"No, no, it's not," Harry said distantly.

"Really."

"Yeah."

"Then why don't you want to go exploring?"

"Dunno."

Ron ground his teeth in frustration. "Please! Won't you join me?" he begged.

"I don't really want to."

"I'll give you my History of Magic notes," Ron cajoled.

"You don't have any!"

"Well…"

"Told you so."

"Hermione has notes," Ron pointed out.

"Yeah, but she won't share them with us."

"Maybe if I ask really nicely…"

Harry snorted. "Not likely."

"It doesn't hurt to ask. So, exploring?"

"Eh…"

Ron cast a forlorn look at his Auror Bartleby book. "I'll even do your share of the Nicholas Flamel research."

"Deal, then."

Ron slid his bookmark into place. "Ready?"

"I guess."

They headed out of the common room towards the main dungeon staircase.

"What's the plan?" Harry asked.

"Go down the staircase, then take a look around. Once we're done with one level, go on to the next."

They headed down the narrow staircase. Ron hadn't had a reason to go down to the lower dungeons before. Both the Potions classroom and the Slytherin dungeons were located on the first dungeon level, and the underground harbour was located on the level below that. Not that Ron had explored the harbour level before - they'd been chivied up the stairs for the Sorting Ceremony before he'd had a chance to look at anything.

"Alright," Ron said once they'd reached the bottom of the stairs. "I think this is the harbour level."

They walked down the corridor. It was decently lit, although the ceiling was lower than the one above. Large stone blocks formed the walls, and the floor sloped slightly beneath their feet.

"Which way?" Harry asked upon reaching a fork.

"The right."

The corridor narrowed, and the walls took on a damp cast.

"I think we're under the lake!" Ron said, "Maybe we're close to the harbour?"

Harry shrugged. "I haven't got a clue - my sense of direction is rubbish."

They continued walking.

"Ah ha!" Ron exclaimed triumphantly several minutes later. "I was right! This is the harbour!" Ron peered into the gloom. Sure enough, there was a small fleet of boats. "Fancy a boat ride, Harry?" Ron asked jokingly.

Harry rolled his eyes. "C'mon, let's see if we can find anything else."

"Let's explore the beach more."

Harry sighed. "Okay."

The light from the corridor didn't quite reach the entire beach, and Ron headed off carefully, not wanting to trip over any stray rocks. "Look, Harry, the beach goes all the way this way!" he said, pointing left.

Harry crunched over to him. "How far do you think it goes?"

"Dunno. Only one way to find out. I'm gonna light my wand up though. I can't see for beans! Lumos!" A soft yellow light blossomed at the end of Ron's wand, and he held it aloof. "There's the harbour entrance over there, and it looks like the beach keeps on going…Hey, look, what's that on the wall?"

"Dunno. Lumos! Can you see it better now?"

Ron raised his wand higher and squinted. There was something engraved on the rock, but he couldn't quite make it out. "Looks like some sort of sigil. Let's go closer."

They walked closer, and Ron could make out the details. "I think it's a lion…maybe for Gryffindor?"

Harry was further along. "I think I found a Ravenclaw eagle… and a Hufflepuff badger! And here's a snake for Slytherin," Harry said, high-fiving the wall. "Go Slyther - "

A grinding sound filled the air, and Ron's stomach dropped. "Please don't tell me you just brought down the castle."

"I didn't just bring down the castle…uh, Ron? I think there's stairs over here."

"Stairs?" Ron's stomach butterflies immediately vanished. Maybe they had just found a new secret passageway - one even the twins didn't know about!

"Yeah, the twisty spiral kind. Looks like they go down a bit too."

"Wait for me!" Ron said, hurrying over. He shined his wand light into the small stairwell where a tight spiral staircase twisted into the shadows. "You want to explore this?"

"Yeah, definitely! Let's leave a rock in the door though, just in case it closes." Harry quickly grabbed a medium sized stone and wedged it by the doorframe. "Alright, let's go."

Holding his wand tightly, Ron descended the stone steps, half expecting some sort of creature to jump out at him. Ron didn't know any hexes yet, so it wasn't like he could actually harm something, but he knew all too well that even sparks hurt at a close enough range.

"How far down do you think we are?" Harry asked after several twists of the staircase.

Ron squinted back up at the light from the door. "Maybe five meters?"

They continued downwards. There were several old brackets on the wall, and all of them were in the shape of snakes. Suddenly, Ron's trainers hit smooth rock. "Harry, I've reached the bottom!" he called, raising his wand to shed light on the corridor. It was a couple heads taller than Ron, but narrow enough that he could touch the walls with both hands. Perhaps it's a secret lair, Ron thought excitedly, heading further down the corridor, Harry close behind him. Maybe I'm about to discover the most awesome thing ever.

"Looks like there's a door ahead," Harry noted, pulling Ron from his thoughts.

Ron looked up. A tall doorway stood in front of them. Serpents twisted through its frame, and yet another snake formed the handle. Bars of dark wood and black metal interlocked to form the door itself. Ron tried the handle. "It's locked!"

"Let me try." Harry rattled the handle. "Argh!"

"Maybe a spell will work?" Ron suggested doubtfully. "Alohomora!"

Still nothing.

Harry pushed at the door with its hands, and frowned in disappointment when it remained closed.

"I bet Hermione will know how to open the door."

Ron nodded in agreement. "Speaking of Hermione, we have a lot of research to do."

Harry smiled. "You mean you have a lot of research to do. You said if I went exploring, you'd do my share of research."

Ron groaned. Why had he made such a poor decision?

A/N: Comments? Questions? Predictions?