Chapter Twelve: Desire
The news of Quirrel's death was spread throughout the wizarding community quickly. Anyone as distinguished as a Hogwarts Professor dying in such a sudden and dramatic fashion would have caught no small amount of attention.
The official story was that Quirrel had contracted some kind of fatal illness while abroad over the holiday and returned to Hogwarts, where he began hunting Unicorns in an attempt to extend his lifespan. His crime had been discovered and, in a panic, he'd ended himself by accident when Dumbledore, McGonagall, and Snape confronted him.
The story Harry heard, when Dumbledore called him to the Headmaster's office on Sunday, was very different.
Harry's face had gone white as a sheet when Dumbledore told him that the wraith of Voldemort had been possessing their now-deceased Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. Both of the snakes at his shoulder were puffed up and hissing at the mere idea—at the thought that such a monster had been so close to Harry on a day-to-day basis over the past few months.
Dumbledore handed the boy a goblet of hot chocolate, which Harry accepted silently and drank to calm his nerves.
Once Harry had a moment to process what he'd been told, he looked at the Headmaster. "Was he here for…for me?"
"I don't believe so," Dumbledore shook his head. "It's always possible that had he an opportunity to hurt you, he might have seized it. But I do not believe his being here this year in particular was a coincidence."
"Why's that?"
Dumbledore stood up and gestured for Harry to follow him. They walked to one of the far walls, and the boy found himself staring into a large mirror. Extravagant writing was engraved into the top of the frame, but at a passing glance, it made no sense.
Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi.
Harry frowned and cocked his head at the writing. A riddle?
It took him a minute, but he figured it out. "'I show not your face, but your heart's desire'?"
"Good," Dumbledore praised. "Look into the glass and tell me what you see."
Harry did as he was told and froze as a pair of shapes formed in the mirror, apparently standing behind him on either side. He'd never seen them before, but their faces were…he saw himself in the features of the man, and in the green eyes of the woman.
"Mom? Dad?" He whispered numbly.
Selena hissed. "Harry? What are you talking about?"
"You don't see them?"
"I see no one but us."
Harry did a double check over his shoulder, but there was no one behind him. When he stared back into the mirror, his parents were still there, smiling at him sadly.
He turned to Dumbledore. "What is this?"
Dumbledore's face was grave. "This is the Mirror of Erised. The answer to its riddle is its only truth—it shows not your face, but only the deepest, most desperate desires of your heart."
He frowned. "Does it not work for animals? Selena didn't see anything but us."
"Is that so odd?" Dumbledore's expression warmed. "Being with you is her heart's greatest desire, Harry. She has all she wants."
"This is true," Selena admitted. That made him feel warm inside.
Aurelion regarded the mirror warily. "This is a dangerous thing. Why have we been shown it?"
Harry echoed the question to Dumbledore, although he frowned at the mention of the mirror being dangerous. The Headmaster answered seriously.
"The mirror shows your heart's desire, yes," Dumbledore admitted. "But it is nothing but an image. It grants you neither knowledge, nor truth. Men have wasted away before it, have gone mad in the face of a fantasy they do not possess. Is what you see possible? Is what you see real? The spell of the mirror cares not—it is magic with the kindest face and the cruelest heart."
"What do you see?" The words were out of Harry's mouth before he realized that question might be too personal or invasive. "I mean—sorry, I didn't…"
Dumbledore silenced him with a mirthful look. "It is alright, Harry. I asked what you saw, so I shall tell you what I see."
The man shifted slightly so he could see himself in the mirror, and Harry watched as a wistful expression appeared on Dumbledore's face—an old grief that never fully healed showed itself upon him.
"When I look into the mirror, I see my family whole and intact. I see my sister, who died far too young. I see my brother, with whom I am estranged to this day. I see my beloved, who I fought against on opposite sides of the war over fifty years ago. I see all I have lost and can never have again."
The old man fell silent for a moment. "It is a maddening sight."
Dumbledore shook himself. "But I failed to answer one of your questions. To amend this, I must ask you one myself; have you ever heard of Nicholas Flamel? The alchemist?"
Harry frowned, shaking his head. Dumbledore continued. "He is a dear colleague of mine who created the one and only Philosopher's Stone. It can turn any metal into pure gold, and it produces the Elixir of Life, which will make the drinker immortal. Nicholas created the Philosopher's Stone in the 14th century. He's well over six hundred years old now. Him and his wife."
Harry's jaw dropped. Six hundred years? That was…that was just ridiculous.
"As you can imagine, such an object needs to be deeply protected to keep it from falling into the wrong hands," Dumbledore went on. "The stone is hidden by the Mirror of Erised. I suspect Voldemort somehow discovered this fact and sought to make the Elixir of Life his own—perhaps to revive himself."
The Headmaster let that sink in. "That is why soon, the mirror will be moved to a different home. It will be guarded heavily. No one save I and Nicholas will be allowed to approach it."
Harry frowned. "This isn't the only way for Voldemort to come back, is it."
"No. I do not believe so," Dumbledore admitted. "There are a few ways for him to come back, but all of them will be exceedingly difficult unless his followers are able to assist him. My colleagues and I will continue to hunt for him quietly. Should we find something, I will let you know. His fate has been intrinsically tied to you, Harry. You deserve to know."
"Thank you," Harry said, casting one last look at the mirror before he stepped away, refusing to look at it again. It hurt, seeing his family and knowing it could never be.
Selena hummed in his ear soothingly. He took a breath.
"Who will be our Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, now?" Harry asked. "We've got ages before the year is up."
"You'll see," Dumbledore's eyes twinkled mischievously.
On Monday, classes started again as normal.
Harry had Potions first thing, but Snape called him aside after the lesson to tell him they'd be postponing the "extra credit" for Friday. As curious as Harry was to find out what the assignment was, he could tell Snape wasn't in the mood to talk. The man's seemingly perpetual scowl was deeper than normal, so he wisely accepted the change in schedule and moved on with his other classes.
Charms was as enjoyable as ever. Flitwick was a great teacher, and Harry often went to him for advice on the elemental charms he was so fond of. Books told him one thing, but someone with practical experience who possessed the ability to explain said experience was always worth listening to.
Harry really wanted to get Incendio down. The sooner he could get the fire to obey him, the happier he'd be.
The rest of his classes passed by in a blur until it was time for Defense Against the Dark Arts. Harry walked into the classroom, curious to see who would be teaching them, and stopped in his tracks.
Albus Dumbledore stood at the head of the room, looking all-too amused by the stunned expressions on his students' faces. When Harry walked in, his eyes twinkled and the troublemaker smile on his face widened some.
Once everyone had arrived, their Headmaster—teacher?—closed the door with a flick of his wand and looked at them all. "Welcome, everyone. I'm sure you've realized by now, but I will fulfilling the role of Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor for the rest of the year. Rest assured, although it's been over fifty years since I last taught this particular subject, I know what I'm doing."
He began to pace, arms crossed behind his back. "Now, I understand you were just getting started on the curriculum for this half of the school year, but I find it prudent to learn what my students are capable of before I begin to teach them. As such, I think it would be wise to begin our lessons with something more…hands-on."
With a wave of his wand, he shifted some of the desks and boards to clear a space and conjured up a dummy, who held a mockery of a wand in one hand.
"Much of the First Year's curriculum these days is learning more about the theory of Defense Against the Dark Arts more so than practical experience," Dumbledore told them. "It is my hope in our lessons that you will gain some advance practice for your Second Year in this subject. I understand that most—if not all—of you have not yet had an opportunity to use these spells. Thus, I will not be grading your ability to perform these spells until we've had at least a few weeks of practice."
Dumbledore looked over the classroom again. "Now then, all of you may stand and if you would, place yourselves behind me. I will demonstrate the Disarming Charm for you all first, and then you will attempt to repeat it on our volunteer."
He gestured to the dummy, who magically lifted a hand and waved at them. That got a few chuckles out of the students.
They all hurried to form up behind their teacher, who faced the target and adopted what was clearly a practiced stance. Dumbledore lifted his wand and the dummy matched his motion, as though preparing for a duel. The students watched raptly as Dumbledore flicked his wand in a blur of motion and spoke, clear and loud. "Expelliarmus!"
The dummy's wand went flying into the air and was caught by Dumbledore expertly. With a wave of his own wand, he levitated the dummy's weapon back to its owner, then turned to the students.
"Expelliarmus is a useful spell to disarm an enemy," Dumbledore told them. "Ideally, in a dangerous situation where a duel is inevitable, you'd hope to neuter your foe before things escalate further. Obviously this is the best-case scenario, and I will instruct you how to proceed in the event of a worst-case scenario later. Wands out! Form a line, if you would."
Eager to test the new spell, the line was formed quickly. Harry managed to get relatively close to the front, but Hermione was the one who claimed the first spot.
"Good," Dumbledore said more to himself than anything, seemingly satisfied. "Now, all of you pay attention. I will show you the proper form to cast Expelliarmus. As you gain more practice with the spell, proper form can be left behind for speed, but until then, let's focus on casting and aiming the spell correctly."
He demonstrated the motions more slowly. Harry focused on his every move, trying to pick up everything he could before it was his turn to try the spell.
Hermione watched him just as sharply and once he was finished with his demonstration, she faced the dummy, who held its wand up to her just as it had against Dumbledore. She focused hard, then tried to mirror the motion faster. "Expelliarmus!"
The charm rocketed from the tip of her wand in a burst of red light, but it flew just over the dummy's head and splashed against the wall behind it harmlessly.
She reddened at her miss, but Dumbledore clapped his hands twice. "A good attempt. Do you feel the difference between combat spells and others? Timing and aim can mean everything. Too early and you can misfire. Too late, and your foe has disarmed you instead. Try again, more slowly this time."
Hermione nodded, glaring at the dummy as if it were an affront to her existence. She executed the spell again, and this time, the dummy's wand went flying and it was almost knocked flat on its back before it bounced up into its upright position. The wand came flying at Hermione and almost hit her in the head, but Dumbledore snatched it out of the air again and returned the "weapon" to the dummy once more.
"Much better," he praised. "With practice, the timing and motion will become more natural to you. To the back of the line, Miss Granger. Mister Finnigan, you're next!"
So on it went until it was Harry's turn. Dumbledore winked at him as the boy stepped up. "If you would, Mister Potter."
Harry faced the dummy and took a breath, concentrating. He readied himself and mirrored Dumbledore's flick. "Expelliarmus!"
The magic struck the dummy's wand arm, sending the wand flying and the dummy spinning in a rapid circle. It wasn't pretty, but the target was disarmed.
"Good," Dumbledore told him. "I daresay our nefarious wizard is feeling rather dizzy."
Harry couldn't help but grin.
"You seem to be decidedly cheerful," Selena commented as Harry entered the magical cavern in the suitcase. The young Basilisk was curled up on a warming rock beneath the artificial sun, while Aurelion was swimming lazily in the water.
"I had a great day," he told her. "Dumbledore stepped in to teach us Defense Against the Dark Arts. We got to practice Disarming Charms."
"I do hope you aren't planning to use them on anyone for the foreseeable future," she hissed dryly.
"Definitely not, but it's good to learn," he replied, smirking.
"Indeed. Are you finished for the day, then?"
"I've got an hour before dinner. I thought I'd drop in and spend some time with you two," he told them happily.
Aurelion slithered out of the water and over to Harry, winding up the boy's leg and to the offered arm. Harry didn't mind the slight trail of water left behind on his black robes—they'd dry off quickly in the warm light.
"Are either of you hungry?"
"I could eat," Aurelion answered, flicking his tongue out at Harry's nose.
Selena declined. "Not today. I will feed later in the week."
Harry closed his eyes to think of one of the castle rats, and lo and behold, one of them popped into existence on the ground with a startled squeak. It took one look at Harry, Selena, and Aurelion, and made a run for it.
Aurelion practically threw himself off of Harry, who hurried to get close to the ground so the Horned Serpent wouldn't hurt himself.
He didn't count on Aurelion's body just not touching the ground as the little snake lurched into flight after the rat and tackled it from above, rolling along in a tangle of scales and fur.
Harry's jaw fell open for a moment in shock, then he was laughing at the expression on Aurelion's face. The Horned Serpent's blue eyes were almost bulging in surprise, despite the rat hanging halfway in his mouth.
Selena was surprised as well, but she recovered quickly and sighed in fond exasperation. "Males."
The week passed by in a blur after that.
Harry found himself walking into the Potions classroom on Friday before he knew it. All his lessons for the day were complete, he was ahead on his homework and reading, and he was interested to see what Snape had in mind for him.
The man in question was already waiting for him, although Harry was right on time. He nodded at the boy shortly and cocked his head towards an empty cauldron on the table. There were a myriad of supplies and ingredients strewn out on the same table beside the cauldron, which caught Harry's eye.
"Put your things down in the usual spot," Snape ordered. Harry did as was told and the Professor went on. "You read the books I found you with extensively, did you not?"
"Yes, sir," he replied.
"Brew up an antidote for Doxy venom."
Harry blinked, moved towards the ingredients, then paused. "The European variant or the American?"
Snape's eyes gleamed with approval. "The European."
"European, so the neurotoxic type…Antidote to Uncommon Poisons, then."
Harry made his way over to the ingredients and frowned, then shot Snape a look with a raised eyebrow. "Most of this stuff is useless for the antidote."
"Yes."
He was making sure Harry knew what he was looking for, then. The boy quickly separated what he needed from what was unnecessary. He cast a raised eyebrow especially at the Boomslang skin, opting not to tell Selena or Aurelion about that.
Harry put the fire seeds, powdered graphorn horn, billywig stings, and chizpurfle carapaces on another table, then set about preparing the cauldron for the potion. He filled it only halfway with water and put the fire seeds in, watching as they sizzled and sank to the bottom of the cauldron. They would set the water to a boil in a few minutes.
While that was going, he approached the billywig stings and separated the largest four from the rest, (some of the stings were pitifully small and would be useless) then took them one at a time and squeezed them at the base above the heating cauldron. The slime they released was what he needed for this potion, not the stings themselves.
He finished extracting the slime from the stings and disposed of them as the water began to boil. Once that was done, Harry picked out some of the chizpurfle carapaces and dropped them into the brew as well. Satisfied with his work thus far, he walked over to the first table, grabbed one of the smaller hourglasses, and flipped it.
"And now we wait," he said.
"Why?"
"The fire seeds have to extinguish themselves before I put the graphorn horn into the cauldron," Harry answered. "If the heat is too much, the horn can ignite and explode."
"Then why would you not put the horn in first?"
"The water needs to be warm for the powder to dissolve properly," Harry explained. "And it needs to be boiling to break down the billywig sting slime. So we let the slime break down first, wait for the water to cool until it's just warm, and then put the graphorn horn in. That takes twenty minutes for the number of fire seeds required."
"Good," Snape's praise was still in his usual monotone, but it was there nonetheless.
Harry was a little proud of himself for that, but he wanted to focus until the potion was complete before he got ahead of himself.
The room grew silent, save for the boiling of the cauldron. Harry watched the brew carefully for any signs that he'd done something incorrectly.
"You did it correctly," Snape told him. "You may remove yourself from your cauldron."
"I just have to be sure," Harry replied absently. "I'm mostly sure the cauldron is the same size as the one recommended in the books, but I could be wrong, so the heat might fade faster or slower than normal."
"Potter."
He looked at his teacher, who regarded him with a raised eyebrow and a stern face. Harry just blinked. "Sir?"
Snape almost shook his head in exasperation. Damn this boy for inheriting his mother's mannerisms!
"How is your Basilisk?" He queried.
"Growing," Harry replied, turning back to the cauldron. Snape had half a mind to pull him away from the brew, but decided against it. Potter was only just starting to tolerate his presence. This was the first time they'd spoken without either of the snakes being present.
"And the Horned Serpent?"
"Same. He flew a little earlier this week," Harry said. He picked out one of the ladles and began to carefully stir the potion.
"Fascinating," Snape muttered to himself. "Do you plan on attempting to brew a cure for his venom?"
"Not yet," the boy frowned. "It's more advanced than I'm comfortable attempting right now. I want to read more and brew some simpler potions before I try it."
"Hm. And the potion to heal someone from your Basilisk's petrification?"
Harry sighed. "I…don't know, yet. Most of the ingredients are easy enough to get ahold of, and it's not like the potion is that complicated to brew, but it requires mature Mandrake roots. I don't think I should grow Mandrakes in my suitcase."
"As opposed to keeping two of the most dangerous magical snake species together instead?"
"I won't die if they scream at me."
"A valid point."
Twenty minutes later and Harry was satisfied the brew had cooled enough. He carefully poured some of the powdered graphorn horn into the potion and stirred it steadily for a few more minutes. By the time the horn was dissolved, the potion had turned a healthy green.
Harry regarded it for a few moments before he looked at Snape. "It's ready."
Snape strode forward, producing a small flask from the inside of his cloak, unstoppered, and spilled the contents into the potion. They watched as the black liquid quite simply broke up and faded away into nothing, dissolving harmlessly into the potion.
"Well done," Snape said. "You succeeded."
He took the ladle and stirred the potion a little, inspecting it to see if it had been affected by the poison he'd poured into it, but it had reacted properly and showed no signs of weakening. "This potion is normally a requirement for Third-Years to learn in my class. Your ability to do so now demonstrates a rare knack for potion-making."
Snape faced the boy and studied him for a few moments. "Once I have finished analyzing the Basilisk venom, I will allow you to assist me in searching for a cure. It will not be easy. It has never been done before. I suggest you continue your reading and prepare to the utmost for when that time comes."
Harry nodded, trying to contain his excitement. So he was going to be allowed to work on finding the antidote!
The Professor indicated to the door with his hand. "You are dismissed. I will apply this success as extra points on your next exam. Continue your studies, Potter."
"Yes, sir," Harry replied, then took his leave.
Once the door had shut behind the boy, Snape looked at the potion and allowed himself a brief moment of glee over the fact that the First-Year son of James-bloody-Potter had a talent for potion-making that his father had lacked all his life.
"He takes after Lily more," Snape muttered smugly, hoping that the ghost of James Potter was rolling in his grave. "Bastard."
A/N: Hey look, more Serpentine. How about that?
Btw, if you didn't catch the last author's note, I updated pretty much every chapter prior to chapter 11. Fixed some grammar stuff, a few issues that were pointed out to me, and adjusted the plot a teeny bit.
As ever, please review and thanks for reading!