Author's Note: Here's chapter 14. We're getting towards the end of Book 1 now.
Disclaimer: I do not own 'Harry Potter'.
December 25 1991, Hogwarts
It was Christmas morning and Harry was awoken by the sound of Ron's excited voice screaming "Presents! Presents! Presents!"
It had been a month and a half since Harry was given the Marauder's Map by Peter. Since then, he had not discovered anything about the vicious three-headed dog or whatever it was guarding. He tried looking at the Marauder's Map several times, but there were so many people in Hogwarts, so many names passing over each other, that he never noticed anything out of the ordinary. There was a name on the map that never seemed to stay away from Professor Quirrell, but Harry didn't think it was anything suspicious. Still, even if it had not proven useful yet, Harry was delighted to have the map in his possession. It was the only thing of his father's that he had at this point. He kept it close to him at all times and never told anyone about it, not even Hermione.
Right now, the three-headed dog was the last thing on Harry's mind. It was Christmas and Harry wanted to enjoy it just as an average eleven-year-old boy would. In addition to this, it was his first time spending Christmas with wizards his own age. He wanted to enjoy it and not be bothered by the constant doom and gloom that Peter was thrusting upon him.
"Ugh," Ron groaned as he unwrapped a Christmas present from his mother, revealing a maroon jumper. "When will my mum learn that I hate maroon?"
Harry received a fair few presents, including a book that Peter must have left during the night as well as a box of Chocolate Frogs from Hermione.
"You're probably wondering how I managed to get you a present when we've been in school since September," announced Hermione." I realised that I wouldn't get a chance to buy Christmas presents from inside the school, so I bought them a few months in advance when we went to Diagon Alley. Aren't I a clever girl?"
"Yes," laughed Harry, "but you're not the only clever one."
Harry produced a neatly-wrapped present, which Hermione eagerly unwrapped to reveal a book about the Goblin Rebellion of 1612. Harry knew that Hermione was the only first year who was able to stay awake during Professor Binns' History of Magic classes, so Harry decided to buy her a book on the ghost's favourite subject. Harry assumed that Hermione was under the impression that he bought her the book before the school year began, just like how Hermione bought Harry's present. In reality, Harry asked Peter to slip out of the school in rat form and buy the present in the nearby village of Hogsmeade, using a Glamour Charm whenever he reverted to human form. Luckily, Peter knew a secret passage in and out of the school that led the user from the Whomping Willow in Hogwarts to the Shrieking Shack in Hogsmeade Village.
"Thank you, Harry," said Hermione in glee as she turned the book over to read the blurb. "Did you get many other presents?"
"Just a book from my... dad," answered Harry, almost referring to Peter as his guardian rather than his father. Harry almost blew his cover again. He had to remember that as far as everyone else knew, he was Harry Owens and Peter was his father Peter Owens. "It looks interesting. You can borrow it when I'm not using it."
"Sounds like a plan," replied Hermione. "I'm just going to the toilet. I'll be back soon."
Harry decided to briefly return to his dormitory. All the other Gryffindors were busy celebrating Christmas in the common room, so the Boy Who Lived was alone. After making sure that nobody was listening in, he took out the Marauder's Map and quietly muttered the password, "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."
The map expanded and Harry was soon looking at a map of Hogwarts. He saw the dot representing Hermione entering the girl's bathroom. He saw Hagrid's dot on the edge of the grounds. He saw Dumbledore's and Snape's dots standing next to each other in the Headmaster's office, with Peter's dot hiding in the corner of the room, presumably in rat form. He saw Professor Flitwick's dot in the Great Hall, presumably eating his breakfast. He saw the dots representing Fred and George Weasley right outside the Slytherin common room, most likely preparing some cruel practical joke. Harry was just about to put the map away when he noticed something very odd in a part of the castle which he had never been to before. It was Professor Quirrell, walking across a corridor. However, right on top of the dot labelled Quirinus Quirrell was another dot, following Quirrell from one end of the corridor to the other.
Tom Riddle
Harry frowned. He had seen the name Tom Riddle on the map a couple of times now, always right beside Professor Quirrell. Apart from seeing it on the Marauder's Map, Harry had never heard of Riddle's name before. Until now, Harry assumed that Riddle was just a student who was struggling at Defence Against the Dark Arts, so he was constantly pestering Professor Quirrell for help. However, this was different. It was the morning of Christmas Day. No student, not even Hermione, even dreamed of studying today. Harry was now suspicious. He memorised the route to Quirrell and tapped the Marauder's Map with his wand.
"Mischief managed," he muttered.
The map recognised the password and sealed itself. Harry folded it up so it would fit in the pocket of his robes. He knew that he had to investigate. He would find out who this mysterious Tom Riddle character was, then report to Peter at night. He was on his way to Quirrell when he passed Hermione, who was on her way back from the bathroom.
"Hi," greeted Hermione, "where are you going?"
"Me?" improved Harry. "I'm just going... to get some breakfast. I won't be long."
"Do you want me to come with you?" asked Hermione, ignoring a deep instinct that told her that something was wrong.
"Nah," answered Harry, "I'll only be a minute. I'll see you when I get back."
Harry ran off leaving a confused Hermione behind. Harry left in the direction of the Great Hall. When he was sure that Hermione had returned to the common room, he changed his direction and ran after Quirrell. When he got to the exact spot that Quirrell was standing the last time Harry checked the map, he was disappointed. There was nobody there. Harry would have to risk using the map again. If any professors happened to see him with it, they would confiscate it or worse, ask him where he found it. All the same, Harry had no choice. He had to find out what was going on. He walked into a nearby classroom for privacy and took out the map. The only object of interest in the room was a large mirror. Harry would usually look at it more closely, but his mind was on other things at this precise moment. He uttered the password to the Marauder's Map.
"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."
The map opened and revealed that Harry had no need to search for Quirrell, because the turban-wearing professor was on walking in Harry's direction, with this mysterious Tom Riddle coming along with him. Harry quickly closed the map.
"Mischief managed," he whispered as quietly as he could.
He put the map in his pocket and popped his head out of the doorway. He saw Professor Quirrell walking past, but there was no sign of Tom Riddle. The name was on the map, but this person didn't seem to exist.
"L-look sharp, Owens," said Professor Quirrell to Harry. "What were you d-d-doing in there anyway?"
"I just needed to be somewhere quiet sir," Harry replied, hoping that he sounded at least remotely convincing.
"I see," said Quirrell. "Well, I d-d-daresay your friends will be looking for you. D-don't take long."
"Yes sir," responded Harry.
Quirrell walked on and Harry stayed where he was. Harry tapped his wand to the map, "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."
As the blank piece of parchment began to turn into a map of the school, Harry heard Quirrell's voice from the distance.
"Oh, and Mr Owens?" he said.
Harry looked at Quirrell and hid the self-writing piece of parchment behind his back. "Yes sir?"
"M-m-merry Christmas," Quirrell smiled at Harry then turned away, returning to his own affairs.
Harry returned to the unused classroom and looked at the map, which was now fully activated. Harry saw Quirrell's dot moving away from his own. Tom Riddle was still apparently next to him, practically on top of him. Harry was utterly befuddled. He just saw that Quirrell was alone. This Riddle person didn't seem to exist. Could the map be faulty, or is there something suspicious going on?
Harry deactivated the map, "Mischief managed."
He was just about to leave the classroom when his eyes focused on the large mirror that stood in the middle of it. The mirror was huge, almost tall enough to reach the ceiling. The design looked old, yet the mirror was in great shape. It was more than just clean. It was spotless. It must have been charmed to stay that way, which made it stand out in this untidy, decrepit classroom. At the top of the mirror, there was typography carved into the golden frame.
Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi
The lettering didn't make any kind of sense to Harry. However, something wonderful happened when Harry looked closely at his reflection. He saw himself, but the mirror did not reflect his Glamour Charms. Harry looked into the mirror and saw his true reflection. He saw a boy with dark hair and a scar shaped like a lightning bolt. He was looking at Harry Potter, not Harry Owens. He was out in public with his real appearance, something that he could never do in reality. Harry was standing next to Peter, who was also standing there as his true self, without any Glamour Charms or disguises. Harry also noticed that Peter's missing finger was intact in the mirror's reflection.
What fascinated Harry was not the reflection of himself or Peter, but the two people standing next to them. There was a woman and a man, looking through the glass at Harry and smiling. The woman had dark red hair and green eyes. The man looked just like Harry, except older. It only took a moment for Harry to realise who these people were. James and Lily Potter. Harry's parents.
"Mum?" he whispered, "Dad?"
His parents smiled at him and gently smiled. Harry sat there, looking at his parents for the first time in his life.
December 27 1991, Hogwarts
Two long days had passed since Harry first encountered this enigmatic mirror. He spent most of Christmas Day and all of Boxing Day staring at the mirror and imagining what his life might have been like if fate had not been so cruel. Harry thought back to the story Peter told him about his parents' deaths. He wondered what his life would have been like if Sirius Black never betrayed his parents and revealed their hiding place to Lord Voldemort. If only...
Now it was the twenty-seventh of December and Harry was still unable to think about anything except the mysterious mirror. Hermione and his other friends were beginning to worry where he was disappearing to every day. Harry didn't care though. Not yet. He just wanted to see his parents.
"Back again, Mr Owens?"
Harry jumped as he heard the voice coming from behind him. The Boy Who Lived turned around and saw the bearded figure of Professor Albus Dumbledore. When Harry entered the room, he never even realised that he was there.
"Sir... I'm sorry, I didn't see you," Harry stuttered.
This was Harry's first one-on-one conversation with Dumbledore. If Harry's secret was ever going to be discovered, Harry believed it would most likely be Dumbledore who works it out. Harry made a promise to himself that he would be careful and not speak without thinking first.
"It is strange, isn't it?" Dumbledore began. "How being in a rush can expose one's priorities."
Harry nodded, not fully understanding what Dumbledore was talking about.
"I see you, like hundreds of other students before you, have discovered the infinite grandeur of the Mirror of Erised," Dumbledore spoke softly. "I trust you have worked out what it does."
Harry shook his head quickly. He had no idea why this mirror was showing him images of his parents. He did not even know until this point that the mirror had a name.
"Let me give you a clue then," Dumbledore started. "The happiest man on Earth would look at it and see only his reflection, just like a normal mirror. He would see himself exactly as he is. If that doesn't help, try reading the inscription backwards."
Harry did as Dumbledore asked and read the carved letters from right to left. I show not your face but your heart's desire. That was when Harry understood what the Mirror of Erised truly was.
"It shows us our heart's desire... what we want... whatever we want," Harry explained, to himself more than anyone else.
This made perfect sense to Harry. Harry was grateful to have Peter as his guardian, but he still wished that he could have known his true family. He wished that he could be himself in public. He wished that Peter could enjoy life without living in a recluse, pretending to be dead out of fear that he would be hunted down by the surviving Death Eaters if he revealed himself. He wanted a world where Voldemort never impacted on his life. While such a world was ideal, Harry knew in his heart that it was not possible. The damage was already done. His parents were dead and nothing that anyone could ever do would change that fact.
"Indeed. There is not a dream in the world that this mirror cannot show us, but that is all it can do. It can show us flashes, mere images of the deepest, most desperate desires of our hearts but it cannot truly realise them," Dumbledore explained. "That, I believe, is what makes it so dangerous."
Harry looked at Dumbledore with a puzzled expression, so the headmaster continued, "People have become obsessed, almost entranced, by the mirror. They have wasted away before it and watched their lives pass them by. Some have even been driven mad by the uncertainty of whether or not the desire they see before them is possible."
"The Mirror of Erised offers us neither truth nor wisdom," Dumbledore said as he looked at Harry with a stern yet sympathetic look. "Tomorrow it will be moved to a new location and I will ask you not to go looking for it. If you happen to come across it, you will be better prepared and you know not to dwell on whatever it might show you. You must return to reality."
"Yes," agreed Harry, "Thank you, Professor Dumbledore."
Harry turned to leave the room, but the headmaster called him back.
"Mr Owens," he called, "Might I enquire, merely out of curiosity, what did you see in the mirror?"
Harry avoided eye contact with Dumbledore, knowing that he was waiting for an opportunity to use Legilimency on him.
"Are you willing to tell me yours, sir?" Harry said in response.
Dumbledore paused for a second before replying, "Fair point. Off you go then. Your friend Miss Granger must be worried about you after these last couple of days."
Harry nodded and left the room. He rushed up to his dormitory and looked for his Alchemy book. He found it in his trunk, then placed it on top of the trunk. He left the dormitory, leaving the book open on page forty-two. That was the signal that he would meet Peter at midnight on top of the Astronomy Tower. He was going to speak to Peter that night and hopefully solve the mystery of the man who never existed. He was going to find out who Tom Riddle was.