Prologue: Old Men Look in a Mirror and Ponder the Worth of Their Existence

Albus Dumbledore and Nicolas Flamel stood side by side as they looked at the product of their efforts. It was done. The stone was sealed.

Dumbledore sighed. "I am truly sorry that it has come to this old friend. If there were any other way..."

Nicolas shook his head. "You are young yet, my friend. Do not stew in your miseries as I have." He stepped forward, pressing the tips of his fingers against the surface of the mirror. Reminding others of their youth was something Nicolas enjoyed doing. It was the kind of joke only a small few were privileged enough to make. Acting as though even the most elderly were young.

Nicolas gazed into the mirror longingly, wishing that the family trapped within the glass would step across the barrier into reality. It wasn't the first time he had felt this longing. Though it had been many years.

Dumbledore put a hand on his shoulder. "It might not be forever, Nicolas. If the danger passes within the year nothing has to change."

Nicolas chuckled bitterly. "We both know that isn't quite true. The stone has become too dangerous to stay in one man's hands for long." He swallowed, but it did nothing to help his dry throat. "I want you to promise me something."

Dumbledore gave his shoulder a squeeze before dropping his arm back to his side. "Anything."

Flamel turned around, fixing Dumbledore with tired eyes. "When all of this is over... whether your trap is a success or a failure, I want you to destroy the stone."

"You'll die."

"I know. I've become wretched, clinging to life for this long. I'm an old man, filled with nothing but bitterness and regret. Life isn't what it used to be."

Nicolas turned back to the mirror, pressing his forehead against the glass. "It's time to let go."

He gazed down at the child looking up at him. A tear rolled down his cheek. "I just wish... that I had a legacy. Something to leave behind."

"You do, Nicolas. Your friends, your students, and all the people you've helped along the way. The lives you've saved. The lives you have yet to save. That is your legacy."

Nicolas couldn't help but smile. Dumbledore was always good with comforting words. "Thank you, friend." He closed his eyes, turning his back on the mirror, the stone, and unbounded life. For the last time. "Protect my legacy, Dumbledore."

–∆–

If one were to peek inside Alfonso Peregrine's Guide to Adventurism with Artefacts and Magicks Moste Strange, the foremost guide on ancient powerful objects, one would find that, at the top of page seven hundred and seventy seven, is the following warning:

DO NOT, UNDER ANY CIRUCMSTANCES, ATTEMPT TO BIND TWO POWERFUL AND/OR ANCIENT MAGICAL OBJECTS TOGETHER. IF, IN THE EVENT THAT SUCH A THING IS NECESSARY, DO NOT UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES THEN PLACE ONE OF THOSE OBJECTS INSIDE A POCKET DIMENSION WITHIN THE FIRST!

Coincidentally, this happened to be exactly what Albus Dumbledore and Nicolas Flamel attempted. In fact, they achieved both at once. Much to their embarassment.

You see, magical artifacts are, by nature, rather unpredictable at best. And anything even resembling a paradox with two incredibly powerful objects is sure to end poorly. So shoving the philosopher's stone, an item capable of turning materials into gold, prolonging life indefinitely... an item of unfathomable power really... into the Mirror of Erised, another incredibly powerful item, one which can see into the souls of those in front of it in order to display their deepest desires...

Binding the two together and placing one inside of the other was a rather poor decision. We are lucky, then, that this story doesn't end poorly.

The capacity for life writhed and matured and grew within the confines of the mirror, fed by the desires of the man that stood before it. His desires were read like words on a page before the mirror, his very soul was bared before the might looking glass. And then those desires; those wants and wishes and once upon a times and never could have beens, were projected directly onto the philosopher's stone. Because that's what the Mirror of Erised is. A projector.

The soul of an immortal man was filtered until only his wants and griefs and regrets remained, and the mirror pondered his existence until it found the solution. A solution which was promptly projected onto the stone of life. The ingredient of everlasting vitality. Compressed spirit given form. It was given life.

And she was born.