Chapter 12: The Mirror of Erised

Christmas was coming. One morning in mid-December, Hogwarts woke to find itself covered in several feet of snow. The lake froze solid and the Weasley twins were punished for bewitching several snowballs so that they followed Quirrell around, bouncing off the back of his turban. The few owls that managed to battle their way through the stormy sky to deliver mail had to be nursed back to health by Hagrid before they could fly off again.

No one could wait for the holidays to start. While the Gryffindor common room and the Great Hall had roaring fires, the drafty corridors had become icy and a bitter wind rattled the windows in the classrooms. Worst of all were Professor Snape's classes down in the dungeons, where their breath rose in a mist before them and they kept as close as possible to their hot cauldrons.

"I do feel so sorry," said Draco Malfoy, one Potions class, "for all those people who have to stay at Hogwarts for Christmas because they're not wanted at home."

He was looking over at Jessica as he spoke. Crabbe and Goyle chuckled. Jessica, who was measuring out powdered spine of lionfish, ignored them. Malfoy had been even more unpleasant than usual since the Quidditch match. Disgusted that the Slytherins had lost, he had tried to get everyone laughing at how a wide-mouthed tree frog would be replacing Jessica as Seeker next. Then he'd realized that nobody found this funny, because they were all so impressed at the way Jessica had managed to stay on her bucking broomstick. So Malfoy, jealous and angry, had gone back to taunting Jessica about having no proper family.

It was true that Jessica wasn't going back to Privet Drive for Christmas. Professor McGonagall had come around the week before, making a list of students who would be staying for the holidays, and Jessica had signed up at once. She didn't feel sorry for herself at all; this would probably be the best Christmas she'd ever had. Ron and his brothers were staying, too, because Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were going to Romania to visit Charlie.

When they left the dungeons at the end of Potions, they found a large fir tree blocking the corridor ahead. Two enormous feet sticking out at the bottom and a loud puffing sound told them that Hagrid was behind it.

"Hi, Hagrid, want any help?" Ron asked, sticking his head through the branches. "Nah, I'm all right, thanks, Ron."

"Would you mind moving out of the way?" came Malfoy's cold drawl from behind them. "Are you trying to earn some extra money, Weasley? Hoping to be gamekeeper yourself when you leave Hogwarts, I suppose — that hut of Hagrid's must seem like a palace compared to what your family's used to."

Ron dived at Malfoy just as Snape came up the stairs.

"WEASLEY!"

Ron let go of the front of Malfoy's robes.

"He was provoked, Professor Snape," said Hagrid, sticking his huge hairy face out from behind the tree. "Malfoy was insultin' his family."

"Be that as it may, fighting is against Hogwarts rules, Hagrid," said Snape silkily. "Five points from Gryffindor, Weasley, and be grateful it isn't more. Move along, all of you."

Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle pushed roughly past the tree, scattering needles everywhere and smirking.

"I'll get him," said Ron, grinding his teeth at Malfoy's back, "one of these days, I'll get him — "

"I hate them both," said Jessica, "Malfoy and Snape."

"Come on, cheer up, it's nearly Christmas," said Hagrid. "Tell yeh what, come with me an' see the Great Hall, looks a treat."

So the three of them followed Hagrid and his tree off to -the Great Hall, where Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick were busy with the Christmas decorations.

"Ah, Hagrid, the last tree — put it in the far corner, would you?"

The hall looked spectacular. Festoons of holly and mistletoe hung all around the walls, and no less than twelve towering Christmas trees stood around the room, some sparkling with tiny icicles, some glittering with hundreds of candles.

"How many days you got left until yer holidays?" Hagrid asked.

"Just one," said Hermione. "And that reminds me -Jessica, Ron, we've got half an hour before lunch, we should be in the library."

"Oh yeah, you're right," said Ron, tearing his eyes away from Professor Flitwick, who had golden bubbles blossoming out of his wand and was trailing them over the branches of the new tree.

"The library?" said Hagrid, following them out of the hall. "Just before the holidays? Bit keen, aren't yeh?"

"Oh, we're not working," Jessica told him brightly. "Ever since you mentioned Nicolas Flamel we've been trying to find out who he is."

"You what?" Hagrid looked shocked. "Listen here — I've told yeh – drop it. It's nothin' to you what that dog's guardin'." "We just want to know who Nicolas Flamel is, that's all," said Hermione.

"Unless you'd like to tell us and save us the trouble?" Jessica added. "We must've been through hundreds of books already and we can't find him anywhere — just give us a hint — I know I've read his name somewhere."

"I'm sayin' nothin, said Hagrid flatly.

"Just have to find out for ourselves, then," said Ron, and they left Hagrid looking disgruntled and hurried off to the library.

They had indeed been searching books for Flamel's name ever since Hagrid had let it slip, because how else were they going to find out what Snape was trying to steal? The trouble was, it was very hard to know where to begin, not knowing what Flamel might have done to get himself into a book. He wasn't in Great Wizards of the Twentieth Century, or Notable Magical Names of Our Time; he was missing, too, from Important Modern Magical Discoveries, and A Study of Recent Developments in Wizardry. And then , of course, there was the sheer size of the library; tens of thousands of books; thousands of shelves; hundreds of narrow rows.

Hermione took out a list of subjects and titles she had decided to search while Ron strode off down a row of books and started pulling them off the shelves at random. Jessica wandered over to the Restricted Section. She had been wondering for a while if Flamel wasn't somewhere in there. Unfortunately, you needed a specially signed note from one of the teachers to look in any of the restricted books and she knew she'd never get one. These were the books containing powerful Dark Magic never taught at Hogwarts and only read by older students studying advanced Defence Against the Dark Arts.

'What are you looking for, girl?'

'Nothing,' said Jessica.

Madam Pince the librarian brandished a feather duster at her.

'You'd better get out, then. Go on – out!'

Wishing she'd been a bit quicker at thinking up some story, Jessica left the library. She, Ron and Hermione had already agreed they'd better not ask Madam Pince where they could find Flamel. They were sure she'd be able to tell them, but they couldn't risk Snape hearing what they were up to.

Jessica waited outside in the corridor to see if the other two had found anything, but she wasn't very hopeful. They had been looking for a fortnight, after all, but as they only had odd moments between lessons it wasn't surprising they'd found nothing. What they really needed was a nice long search without Madam Pince breathing down their necks.

Five minutes later, Ron and Hermione joined her, shaking their heads. They went off to lunch.

'You will keep looking while I'm away, won't you?' said Hermione. 'And send me an owl if you find anything.'

'And you could ask your parents if they know who Flamel is,' said Ron. 'It'd be safe to ask them.'

'Very safe, as they're both dentists,' said Hermione.

Once the holidays had started, Ron and Jessica were having too good a time to think much about Flamel. The common room was far emptier than usual, so they were able to get the good armchairs by the fire. They sat by the hour eating anything they could spear on a toasting fork – bread, crumpets, marshmallows – and plotting ways of getting Malfoy expelled, which were fun to talk about even if they wouldn't work.

Ron also started teaching Jessica wizard chess. This was exactly like Muggle chess except that the figures were alive, which made it a lot like directing troops in battle. Ron's set was very old and battered. Like everything else he owned, it had once belonged to someone else in his family – in this case, his grandfather. However, old chessmen weren't a drawback at all. Ron knew them so well he never had trouble getting them to do what he wanted.

Jessica played with chessmen Seamus Finnigan had lent her and they didn't trust her at all. She wasn't a very good player yet and they kept shouting different bits of advice at her, which was confusing: 'Don't send me there, can't you see his knight? Send him, we can afford to lose him.'

On Christmas Eve, Jessica went to bed looking forward to the next day for the food and the fun, but not expecting any presents at all. When she woke early next morning, however, the first thing she saw was a small pile of packages at the foot of her bed. She couldn't believe her eyes! Jessica scrambled out of bed and pulled on her dressing-gown.

She picked up the top parcel. It was wrapped in thick brown paper and scrawled across it was To Jessica, from Hagrid. Inside was a roughly cut wooden flute. Hagrid had obviously whittled it himself. Jessica blew it – it sounded a bit like an owl.

A second, very small parcel contained a note. We received your message and enclose your Christmas present. From Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia. Sellotaped to the note was a fifty-pence piece.

'That's friendly,' said Jessica to herself.

That was Hagrid and my aunt and uncle – so who sent these? She thought, and decided to open the next present, a very lumpy parcel, to find a thick, hand-knitted sweater in emerald green and a large box of home-made fudge. There was no note, and so she left the fudge untouched.

Her next present also contained sweets – a large box of Chocolate Frogs from Hermione.

This left only one parcel. Jessica picked it up and felt it. It was very light. She unwrapped it. Something fluid and silvery grey went slithering to the floor, where it lay in gleaming folds.

What is it? Jessica thought, picking the shining, silvery cloth off the floor. It was strange to the touch, like water woven into material.

Jessica decided to try the Cloak and threw it around her shoulders, freeing her long hair from the back of it. She looked into a mirror and gave a small scream!

Her reflection looked back at her, just her head suspended in mid-air, but her body was completely invisible! She pulled the Cloak over her head and her reflection vanished completely.

Just then, she noticed a note that had fallen out of it. She pulled off the Cloak and seized the letter. Written in narrow, loopy writing she had never seen before were the following words:

Your father left this in my possession before he died. It is time it was returned to you. Use it well.

A Very Merry Christmas to you.

There was no signature. Jessica stared at the note.

She felt very strange. Who had sent the Cloak? Had it really once belonged to her father?

She decided to consult with Ron, and brought the fifty-pence piece, the sweater, the home-made fudge and the Cloak in the parcel that it came from down into the common room.

'Happy Christmas,' said Ron joyfully as Jessica headed towards Ron. 'You too,' said Jessica. 'Will you look at this? I've got some presents!'

'What did you expect, turnips?' said Ron, but he was fascinated by the fifty pence. 'Weird!' he said. 'What a shape! This is money?'

'You can keep it,' said Jessica, laughing at how pleased Ron was.

When Ron spotted Jessica's sweater, he groaned, and then said, 'Oh, no, she's made you a Weasley jumper.'

Ron, going a bit pink, told her that the fudge was also from his mum.

'I told her you didn't expect any presents,' he said. 'Every year she makes us a jumper, mine's maroon.'

'That's really nice of her,' said Jessica, finally trying the fudge, which turned out to be very tasty.

When Jessica showed him the Cloak, he said in a hushed voice, 'It's an Invisibility Cloak.'

Ron had a look of awe on his face.

'They're really rare, and really valuable."

Jessica showed her hand disappearing in the folds of the cloak. Ron's eyes widened and then said enviously, 'I'd give anything for one of these. Anything."

Before he could say anything else, Fred and George Weasley bounded into the common room. Jessica quickly stuffed the Cloak back into the parcel. She didn't feel like sharing it with anyone else yet.

'Merry Christmas!'

'Hey, look – Jessica's got a Weasley jumper, too!'

Fred and George were wearing blue jumpers, one with a large yellow F on it, the other with a large yellow G.

'Jessica's is better than ours, though,' said Fred, holding up Jessica's jumper. 'She obviously makes more of an effort if you're not family.'

'Why aren't you wearing yours, Ron?' George demanded. 'Come on, get it on, they're lovely and warm.'

'I hate maroon,' Ron moaned half-heartedly as he pulled it over his head.

'You haven't got a letter on yours,' George observed. 'I suppose she thinks you don't forget your name. But we're not stupid – we know we're called Gred and Forge.' 'What's all this noise?' Percy Weasley entered the common room, looking at them disapproving.

He had clearly come halfway through unwrapping his presents as he, too, carried a lumpy jumper over his arm, which Fred seized.

'P for prefect! Get it on, Percy, come on, we're all wearing ours, even Jessica got one.'

'I – don't – want –' said Percy thickly, as the twins forced the jumper over his head, knocking his glasses askew. 'And you're not sitting with the Prefects today, either,' said George. 'Christmas is a time for family.'

They frog-marched Percy from the room, his arms pinned to his sides by his jumper.

Jessica had never in all her life had such a Christmas dinner. A hundred fat, roast turkeys, mountains of roast and boiled potatoes, platters of fat chipolatas, tureens of buttered peas, silver boats of thick, rich gravy and cranberry sauce – and stacks of wizard crackers every few feet along the table. These fantastic crackers were nothing like the feeble Muggle ones the Dursleys usually bought, with their little plastic toys and their flimsy paper hats. Jessica pulled a wizard cracker with Fred and it didn't just bang, it went off with a blast like a cannon and engulfed them all in a cloud of blue smoke, while from the inside exploded a rear-admiral's hat and several live, white mice. Up on the High Table, Dumbledore had swapped his pointed wizard's hat for a flowered bonnet and was chuckling merrily at a joke Professor Flitwick had just read him.

Flaming Christmas puddings followed the turkey. Percy nearly broke his teeth on a silver Sickle embedded in his slice. Jessica watched Hagrid getting redder and redder in the face as he called for more wine, finally kissing Professor McGonagall on the cheek, who, to Jessica's amazement, giggled and blushed, her top hat lop-sided.

When Jessica finally left the table, she was laden down with a stack of things out of the crackers, including a pack of non-explodable, luminous balloons, a grow-your-own-warts kit and her own new wizard chess set. The white mice had disappeared and Jessica had a nasty feeling they were going to end up as Mrs Norris' Christmas dinner.

Jessica and the Weasleys spent a happy afternoon having a furious snowball fight in the grounds. Then, cold, wet and gasping for breath, they returned to the fire in the Gryffindor common room, where Jessica broke in her new chess set by losing spectacularly to Ron. She suspected she wouldn't have lost so badly if Percy hadn't tried to help her so much.

After a tea of turkey sandwiches, crumpets, trifle, and Christmas cake, everyone felt too full and sleepy to do much before bed except sit and watch Percy chase Fred and George all over Gryffindor Tower because they'd stolen his prefect badge.

It had been Jessica's best Christmas day ever. Yet something had been nagging at the back of her mind all day. Not until she climbed into bed was she free to think about it: the Invisibility Cloak and whoever had sent it.

Jessica leant over the side of her bed and pulled the Cloak out from under it. Her father's … this had been her father's. She let the material flow over her hands, smoother than silk, light as air. Use it well, the note had said.

She had to try it, now. She slipped out of bed and wrapped the Cloak around herself. Looking down at her legs, she saw only moonlight and shadows. It was a very funny feeling.

Use it well.

Suddenly, Jessica felt wide awake. The whole of Hogwarts was open to her in this Cloak. Excitement flooded through her as she stood there in the dark and silence. She could go anywhere in this, anywhere, and Filch would never know.

She crept out of the dormitory, down the stairs, across the common room and climbed through the portrait hole.

'Who's there?' squawked the Fat Lady. Jessica said nothing. She walked quickly down the corridor.

Where should she go? She stopped, her heart racing, and thought. And then it came to her. The Restricted Section in the library. She'd be able to read as long as she liked, as long as it took to find out who Flamel was. She set off, drawing the Invisibility Cloak tight around her as she walked.

The library was pitch black and very eerie. Jessica lit a lamp to see her way along the rows of books. The lamp looked as if it was floating along in mid-air, and even though Jessica could feel her arm supporting it, the sight gave her the creeps.

The Restricted Section was right at the back of the library. Stepping carefully over the rope which separated these books from the rest of the library, she held up her lamp to read the titles.

They didn't tell her much. Their peeling, faded gold letters spelled words in languages Jessica couldn't understand. Some had no title at all. One book had a dark stain on it that looked horribly like blood. The hairs on the back of Jessica's neck prickled. Maybe she was imagining it, maybe not, but she thought a faint whispering was coming from the books, as though they knew someone was there who shouldn't be.

She had to start somewhere. Setting the lamp down carefully on the floor, she looked along the bottom shelf for an interesting-looking book. A large black and silver volume caught her eye. She pulled it out with difficulty, because it was very heavy, and, balancing it on her knee, let it fall open.

A piercing, blood-curdling shriek split the silence – the book was screaming! Jessica snapped it shut, but the shriek went on and on, one high, unbroken, ear-splitting note. She stumbled backwards and knocked over her lamp, which went out at once. Panicking, she heard footsteps coming down the corridor outside – stuffing the shrieking book back on the shelf, she ran for it. She passed Filch almost in the doorway; Filch's pale, wild eyes looked straight through her and Jessica slipped under Filch's outstretched arm and streaked off up the corridor, the book's shrieks still ringing in her ears.

She came to a sudden halt in front of a tall suit of armour. She had been so busy getting away from the library, she hadn't paid attention to where she was going. Perhaps because it was dark, she didn't recognise where she was at all. There was a suit of armour near the kitchens, she knew, but she must be five floors above there.

'You asked me to come directly to you, Professor, if anyone was wandering around at night, and somebody's been in the library – Restricted Section.'

Jessica felt the blood drain out of her face. Wherever she was, Filch must know a short cut, because his soft, greasy voice was getting nearer, and to her horror, it was Snape who replied.

'The Restricted Section? Well, they can't be far, we'll catch them.'

Jessica stood rooted to the spot as Filch and Snape came around the corner ahead. They couldn't see her, of course, but it was a narrow corridor and if they came much nearer they'd knock right into her – the Cloak didn't stop her being solid.

She backed away as quietly as she could. A door stood ajar to her left. It was her only hope. She squeezed through it, holding her breath, trying not to move it, and to her relief she managed to get inside the room without their noticing anything. They walked straight past and Jessica leant against the wall, breathing deeply, listening to their footsteps dying away. That had been close, very close. It was a few seconds before she noticed anything about the room she had hidden in.

It looked like a disused classroom. The dark shapes of desks and chairs were piled against the walls and there was an upturned waste-paper basket – but propped against the wall facing her was something that didn't look as if it belonged there, something that looked as if someone had just put it there to keep it out of the way.

It was a magnificent mirror, as high as the ceiling, with an ornate gold frame, standing on two clawed feet. There was an inscription carved around the top: Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi.

Her panic fading now that there was no sound of Filch and Snape, Jessica moved nearer to the mirror, wanting to look at herself but see no reflection again. She stepped in front of it.

She had to clap her hands to her mouth to stop herself screaming. She whirled around. Her heart was pounding far more furiously than when the book had screamed – for she had seen not only herself in the mirror, but a whole crowd of people standing right behind her.

But the room was empty. Breathing very fast, she turned slowly back to the mirror.

There she was, reflected in it, white and scared-looking, and there, reflected behind her, were at least ten others. Jessica looked over her shoulder – but, still, no one was there. Or were they all invisible, too? Was she in fact in a room full of invisible people and this mirror's trick was that it reflected them, invisible or not?

She looked in the mirror again. A woman standing right behind her reflection was smiling at her and waving. She reached out a hand and felt the air behind her. If she was really there, she'd touch her, their reflections were so close together, but she felt only air – she and the others existed only in the mirror.

She was a very pretty woman. She had dark red hair and her eyes – her eyes are just like mine, Jessica thought, edging a little closer to the glass. Bright green – exactly the same shape, but then Jessica noticed that she was crying; smiling, but crying at the same time. The tall, thin, black-haired man standing next to her put his arm around her. He wore glasses, and his hair was very untidy and black just like Jessica's.

Jessica was so close to the mirror now that her nose was nearly touching that of her reflection.

'Mum?' she whispered. 'Dad?'

They just looked at her, smiling. And slowly, Jessica looked into the faces of the other people in the mirror and saw other pairs of green eyes like hers, other noses like hers, even a little old man who looked as though he had Jessica's knobbly knees – Jessica was looking at her family, for the first time in her life.

The Potters smiled and waved at Jessica and she stared hungrily back at them, her hands pressed flat against the glass as though she was hoping to fall right through it and reach them. She had a powerful kind of ache inside her, half joy, half terrible sadness.

How long she stood there, she didn't know. The reflections did not fade and she looked and looked until a distant noise brought her back to her senses. She couldn't stay here, she had to find her way back to bed. She tore her eyes away from her mother's face, whispered, 'I'll come back,' and hurried from the room.

'You could have waited to go with me,' said Ron, crossly.

'You can come tonight, I'm going back, I want to show you the mirror.'

'I'd like to see your mum and dad,' Ron said eagerly.

'And I want to see all your family, all the Weasleys, you'll be able to show me your other brothers and everyone.'

'You can see them any old time,' said Ron. 'Just come round my house this summer. Anyway, maybe it only shows dead people. Shame about not finding Flamel, though. Have some bacon or something, why aren't you eating anything?'

Jessica couldn't eat. She had seen her parents and would be seeing them again tonight. She had almost forgotten about Flamel. It didn't seem very important any more. Who cared what the three-headed dog was guarding? What did it matter if Snape stole it, really?

'Are you all right?' said Ron. 'You look odd.'

What Jessica feared most was that she might not be able to find the mirror room again. With Ron covered in the Cloak too, they had to walk much more slowly next night. They tried retracing Jessica's route from the library, wandering around the dark passageways for nearly an hour.

'I'm freezing,' said Ron. 'Let's forget it and go back.'

'No!' Jessica hissed. 'I know it's here somewhere.'

They passed the ghost of a tall witch gliding in the opposite direction, but saw no one else. Just as Ron started moaning that his feet were dead with cold, Jessica spotted the suit of armour.

'It's here – just here – yes!'

They pushed the door open. Jessica dropped the Cloak from round her shoulders and ran to the mirror. There they were. Her mother and father beamed at the sight of her.

'See?' Jessica whispered.

'I can't see anything.'

'Look! Look at them all … there are loads of them …'

'I can only see you.'

'Look in it properly, go on, stand where I am.'

Jessica stepped aside, but with Ron in front of the mirror, she couldn't see her family any more, just Ron in his paisley pyjamas.

Ron, though, was staring transfixed at his image.

'Look at me!' he said.

'Can you see all your family standing around you?'

'No – I'm alone – but I'm different – I look older – and I'm Head Boy!'

'What?'

'I am – I'm wearing the badge like Bill used to – and I'm holding the House Cup and the Quidditch Cup – I'm Quidditch captain, too!'

Ron tore his eyes away from this splendid sight to look excitedly at Jessica.

'Do you think this mirror shows the future?'

'How can it? All my family are dead – let me have another look –'

'You had it to yourself all last night, give me a bit more time.'

'You're only holding the Quidditch Cup, what's interesting about that? I want to see my parents.'

'Don't push me –'

A sudden noise outside in the corridor put an end to their discussion. They hadn't realised how loudly they had been talking.

'Quick!'

Ron threw the Cloak back over them as the luminous eyes of Mrs Norris came round the door. Ron and Jessica stood quite still, both thinking the same thing – did the Cloak work on cats? After what seemed an age, she turned and left.

'This isn't safe – she might have gone for Filch, I bet she heard us. Come on.'

And Ron pulled Jessica out of the room.

The snow still hadn't melted next morning.

'Want to play chess, Jessica?' said Ron. 'No.'

'Why don't we go down and visit Hagrid?' 'No … you go …'

'I know what you're thinking about, Jessica, that mirror. Don't go back tonight.' 'Why not?'

'I dunno, I've just got a bad feeling about it – and anyway, you've had too many close shaves already. Filch, Snape and Mrs Norris are wandering around. So what if they can't see you? What if they walk into you? What if you knock something over?' 'You sound like Hermione.'

'I'm serious, Jessica, don't go.'

But Jessica only had one thought in her head, which was to get back in front of the mirror, and Ron wasn't going to stop her.

That third night she found her way more quickly than before. She was walking so fast she knew she was making more noise than was wise, but she didn't meet anyone.

And there were her mother and father smiling at her again, and one of her grandfathers nodding happily. Jessica sank down to sit on the floor in front of the mirror. There was nothing to stop her staying here all night with her family. Nothing at all.

Except –

'So – back again, Jessica?'

Jessica felt as though her insides had turned to ice. She looked behind her. Sitting on one of the desks by the wall was none other than Albus Dumbledore. Jessica must have walked straight past him, so desperate to get to the mirror she hadn't noticed him.

'I – I didn't see you, sir.'

'Strange how short-sighted being invisible can make you,' said Dumbledore, and Jessica was relieved to see that he was smiling.

'So,' said Dumbledore, slipping off the desk to sit on the floor with Jessica, 'you, like hundreds before you, have discovered the delights of the Mirror of Erised.'

'I didn't know it was called that, sir.'

'But I expect you've realised by now what it does?'

'It – well – it shows me my family –'

'And it showed your friend Ron himself as Head Boy.'

'How did you know –?'

'I don't need a cloak to become invisible,' said Dumbledore gently. 'Now, can you think what the Mirror of Erised shows us all?'

Jessica shook her head.

'Let me explain. The happiest man on earth would be able to use the Mirror of Erised like a normal mirror, that is, he would look into it and see himself exactly as he is. Does that help?'

Jessica thought. Then she said slowly, 'It shows us what we want … whatever we want …'

'Yes and no,' said Dumbledore quietly. 'It shows us nothing more or less than the deepest, most desperate desire of our hearts. You, who have never known your family, see them standing around you. Ronald Weasley, who has always been overshadowed by his brothers, sees himself standing alone, the best of all of them. However, this mirror will give us neither knowledge or truth. Men have wasted away before it, entranced by what they have seen, or been driven mad, not knowing if what it shows is real or even possible. 'The Mirror will be moved to a new home tomorrow, Jessica, and I ask you not to go looking for it again. If you ever do run across it, you will now be prepared. It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live, remember that. Now, why don't you put that admirable Cloak back on and get off to bed?'

Jessica stood up.

'Sir – Professor Dumbledore? Can I ask you something?'

'Obviously, you've just done so,' Dumbledore smiled. 'You may ask me one more thing, however.'

'What do you see when you look in the Mirror?'

'I? I see myself holding a pair of thick, woollen socks.'

Jessica stared.

'One can never have enough socks,' said Dumbledore. 'Another Christmas has come and gone and I didn't get a single pair. People will insist on giving me books.'

It was only when she was back in bed that it struck Jessica that Dumbledore might not have been quite truthful. But then, she thought, it had been quite a personal question.