Chapter Seven
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 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 our breath rose in a mist before us and we kept as close as possible to our hot cauldrons. Potions classes were the only time I saw Lisa, and from what she could tell me, we would be seeing a lot more of each other, and Laura, before winter break was over.
"I do feel so sorry," Draco Malfoy said 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 Harry as he spoke. Crabbe and Goyle chuckled. Lisa hit him upside his head and told him that she was staying for the holidays and to shut-up. He didn't bring the subject up again.
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 Harry as Seeker next. Then he'd realized that nobody found this funny, because they were all so impressed at the way Harry had managed to stay on his bucking broomstick. So Malfoy, jealous and angry, had gone back to taunting Harry about having no proper family.
It was true that Harry was staying at Hogwarts and not going back to Privet Drive, where he lived with his Aunt Petunia, Uncle Vernon, and Cousin Dudley. I was staying, too, because, frankly, I had nowhere else to go! Lisa and Laura were staying, as well as Ron and his brothers, because Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were going to Romania to visit Charlie, their second- oldest son, who worked with dragons.
When we left the dungeons at the end of Potions, we found a large fir tree blocking the corridor ahead. Two enormous feet sticking out from the bottom and a loud puffing sound told us 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 us. "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," Hagrid reported, 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," replied 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. Lisa followed not far behind, but she slipped me a note in the process. I hid it in one of my books and watched her walk away.
"I'll get him," Ron said, grinding his teeth at Malfoy's back, "one of these days, I'll get him ---"
"I hate them both," Harry remarked, "Malfoy and Snape."
"That Lisa girl's not much better."
"Yeah," Harry agreed, "but I guess we can't talk. Courtney's gotten the worst end of her temper."
"Yeah, why don't you ever say anything bad about her?" Ron asked.
"So, Hagrid," I said, in an attempt to change the subject away from myself.
"Come on, cheer up, it's nearly Christmas," Hagrid told the guys, saving me. I would have to send him an owl when the weather got a little better. "Tell yeh what, come with me an' see the Great Hall, looks a treat."
So we all 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," Hermione replied. "And that reminds me --- Harry, Ron, Courtney, we've got half an hour before lunch, we should be in the library."
"Oh yeah, you're right," Ron agreed. I nodded as well, tearing my 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?" Hagrid asked, following us out of the hall. "Just before the holidays? Bit keen, aren't yeh?"
"Oh, we're not working," Harry 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," Hermione lied.
"Unless you'd like to tell us and save us a lot of trouble?" Harry 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'," Hagrid said flatly.
"Just have to find out for ourselves, then," Ron remarked, and we left Hagrid looking disgruntled and hurried off to the library.
We had indeed been searching books for Flamel's name ever since Hagrid had let it slip. Harry, Hermione, and Ron were looking because they wanted to find out what Snape was supposedly trying to steal. I was looking so that I didn't become a suspicious character in their eyes. I needed their friendship if I planned to get through the year. The trouble for them was that they didn't 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 Noble 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. My problem was that I did know where to begin, as a matter-of- fact, I knew exactly what book he was in, and I couldn't tell them!
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. Harry wandered over to the Restricted Section. I knew his thoughts. He was wondering if Flamel might be somewhere in there. Unfortunately, you needed a specially signed note from one of the teachers to look in any of the restricted books, and he would never get one. They were books containing powerful Dark Magic never taught at Hogwarts, and only read by older students studying advanced Defense Against the Dark Arts. I was sitting at a near-by table thinking about the lonely, presentless Christmas that I was going to have instead of looking for Nicolas Flamel. I suddenly remembered Lisa's note and pulled it out of my book and read it. It was nothing important, stating only that it was nearly Christmas, that she had a special gift for me, and that we'd be having at least one meeting with Laura before the Christmas break was over. I folded the note back up and hid it in my robe.
"What are you looking for, boy?" came a near-by voice.
"Nothing," Harry said. I rolled my eyes.
Madam Pince the librarian brandished a feather duster at him.
"You'd better get out, then. Go on --- out!"
Harry left the library. I got up to follow him. Harry, Ron, and Hermione had all agreed that they had 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. I don't include myself in this decision because I had just sat there and nodded while they discussed it.
I followed Harry into the corridor and made myself comfortable against a wall. "Aren't you going to look for Flamel?" Harry asked me.
"Is there a point?"
Harry shrugged. "I guess not."
A few minutes later, Ron and Hermione joined us, shaking their heads. We went off to lunch.
"You will keep looking while I'm away, won't you?" Hermione asked. "And send me an owl if you find anything."
"And you could ask your parents if they know who Flamel is," Ron said. "It'd be safe to ask them."
"Very safe, as they're both dentists," Hermione told him.
Once the holidays had started, I, along with Ron and Harry, was having too good a time to think much about Flamel, or anything for that matter. I had the dormitory totally to myself and the common room was far emptier than usual, so we were able to get the good armchairs by the fire. I sat with Harry and Ron by the hour eating anything we could spear on a toasting fork --- bread, English muffins, marshmallows --- and plotting ways of getting Malfoy expelled, which were fun to talk about even if they wouldn't work.
Ron also started teaching Harry wizard chess. I would sit in an armchair reading and watching. It 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.
Harry played with chessmen Seamus Finnigan had lent him, and they didn't trust him at all. He wasn't a very good player yet and they kept shouting different bits of advice at him, 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, I went to bed looking forward to the next day for the food and the fun, but not expecting any presents at all. When I woke early in the morning, however, the first thing I saw was a very small pile of packages at the foot of my bed. I crawled over to them and began to look through them.
On top was a rather heavy and lumpy package wrapped in thick brown paper. Scrawled across it was To Courtney, from Hagrid. Inside I found treacle fudge, and decided to save it for a later time (or never, whichever came first). I picked up the next parcel, which was rather small. When I opened it, I recognized the handwriting on it as Lisa's and looked at the gift. It was a package of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans, but every flavor except booger, vomit, and spaghetti flavored had been picked out. "Oh, ha, ha Lisa," I said sarcastically to no one. I had sent her a bracelet I'd found at the bottom of my trunk, and look what I got in return. I rolled my eyes and set the beans with the treacle fudge. There was a sudden tapping on my window and I looked up to see Pep. I smiled and hurried over to let her in. She didn't have a note with her, but I guess she didn't want me to be alone on Christmas morning. I was happy to have a companion and shut the window as Pep flew over to rest on my bed. She hooted cheerfully as I joined her and I stroked her a bit.
Soon, I was back to opening my gifts. The next one was from Laura. It was one Chocolate Frog. I laughed and set it aside. I had sent her a necklace that I had found at the bottom of my trunk. Hmm, there was a lot of stuff at the bottom of my trunk.
The next parcel was soft and lumpy. I opened it and was very surprised to find a sweater. I held it up. It was murrey colored and it had a yellow flower on it. I smiled and pulled it over my head. It was nice and warm.
The next three parcels contained more candy from Harry, Ron, and Hermione. I felt rather bad. All I had been able to send them was a poem each. My trunk had stopped producing gifts!
There was one more parcel left. It was long and I couldn't for the life of me think of what it might be. I ripped the paper off of it, and then I opened the box. I saw something glinting in the early morning sun streaming through my window. I grabbed it and pulled. Out of the box came . . .
My sword!
My breath caught and I dropped the box. I stood up with the blade in my grasp. It felt so good to be holding it again. For once, I didn't have any memories or flashbacks. I waved the sword around a bit trying to get the old feel of it back. It came quickly. Now grinning, I put the sword back in the box. I didn't want to share it with anyone.
Then, I got Pep up onto my shoulder, where she then progressed to my head, and walked over to the boys' dormitories. I knocked a couple times and stepped back. Harry opened the door. "Merry Christmas!" I said cheerfully.
"Merry Christmas!" Harry replied. "Come on in." He opened the door wider and I walked in.
"You got a Weasley sweater, too?" Ron moaned. I laughed. "All I did was tell her that you two didn't expect any gifts and she went and made both of you sweaters!"
"It's really very nice of her," I told him, sitting down on a near-by bed. I saw Harry glance at his bed. I knew he was thinking about the invisibility cloak he had just received. Just then, the dormitory door was flung open and Fred and George Weasley bounded in. "Merry Christmas!"
"Hey, look --- Harry and Courtney have got Weasley sweaters, too!"
Fred and George were wearing blue sweaters, one with a large yellow F on it, the other a G.
"Theirs are better than ours, though," Fred remarked, holding up Harry's sweater and looking at mine. "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 halfheartedly 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."
I stifled a laugh as someone else came into the dormitory.
"What's all this noise?"
Percy Weasley stuck his head through the door, looking disapproving. He had clearly gotten halfway through unwrapping his presents as he, too, carried a lumpy sweater over his arm, which Fred seized.
"P for prefect! Get it on, Percy, come on, we're all wearing ours, even Harry and Courtney have got one."
"I --- don't --- want ---" Percy objected thickly, as the twins forced the sweater over his head, knocking his glasses askew.
"And you're not sitting with the prefects today, either," George told him. "Christmas is a time for family."
They frog-marched Percy from the room, his arms pinned to his side by his sweater.
I have never in all my life had such a Christmas dinner as I did that day. A hundred fat, roast turkeys; mountains of roast and boiled potatoes; platters of 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. The fantastic party favors were nothing like the feeble Muggle ones, with their little plastic toys and their flimsy paper hats inside. I watched Harry pull a wizard cracker with Fred and it didn't just bang, it went off with a blast like a cannon and engulfed everyone in a cloud of blue smoke, while from the inside exploded a rear admiral's hat and several live, white mice. I took the hat, which no one else wanted, and looked up at 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. I watched Hagrid getting redder and redder in the face as he called for more wine, finally kissing Professor McGonagall on the cheek, who, to my amazement, giggled and blushed, her top hat lopsided.
When I finally left the table, I was laden down with a stack of things out of the crackers, including three hats (the one Harry had given me, an oversized cowboy hat, and a sombrero), a pack of non-explodable balloons, and a pair of tap shoes that tapped on any surface (now that's what I'm talking about)! The white mice had disappeared and I had a nasty feeling they were going to end up as Mrs. Norris' Christmas dinner.
The Weasleys, Harry, and I spent a happy afternoon having a furious snowball fight on the grounds. Then, cold, wet, and gasping for breath, we returned to the fire in the Gryffindor common room, where Harry broke in his new chess set by losing spectacularly to Ron. I don't think he would have lost so badly if Percy hadn't tried to help him so much.
After a meal of turkey sandwiches, crumpets, trifle, and Christmas cake, we all 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.
Despite the fact that my family was universes away, and my friends were in some other part of the castle pretending to hate me, it was probably the best Christmas day ever. I climbed into bed without a worry and closed my eyes.
I never even touched the brink of sleep before I heard a tapping at my window, and it wasn't a dainty tap like Pep usually made. It was a big tap.
I opened my eyes and looked over at the window. There was Laura's barred owl, Fyodor, with a note. I groaned and went over to the window to let him in. I took the note from him and, without an answer, he left. I opened the note and read it.
Court, Meet Lisa and me in the library, 12:00. See ya there! ~Laura
The library again? And she was supposed to be the leader? Yeah, right. I sighed, threw the letter away, and plopped down on my bed again. Why me?
I decided that sleeping was not an option, so I got out my sword and began refreshing my brain. I couldn't believe how out of shape I was. My thrust had no power behind it! My lunge was so pathetic I wanted to cry. I kept practicing right up until ten till midnight. Then, reluctantly, I put my sword away and left Gryffindor tower.
I crept down the icy stone steps into the common room, which was dark and cold. The fire had died down and the chairs all cast eerie shadows in the little bit of moonlight that was still coming through the windows. I tiptoed hurriedly to the portrait hole and climbed through it. "Who's there now?" squawked the Fat Lady. Now? I thought. I shrugged it off and just continued down the corridor without saying a word. The Fat Lady couldn't see me, it was too dark. I made my way silently, almost like a shadow, down to the library.
The library was pitch-black, unlike when I had been there before at 8:30. At least then there had been moonlight streaming in. I highly doubted we would be caught tonight. There was whispering coming from somewhere in the back of the chamber, so I flitted over towards it. There stood Lisa and Laura, Lisa wearing skintight clothing for morphing, Laura in a yellow bathrobe. "Why the library?" I asked when I got near enough.
"Would you have preferred the bathroom?"
"Yes, actually," I said. "And why midnight?"
"Because I'm the leader and I said so!"
"Whatever."
"Okay, Laura's third council has just been called to order. First order of business, how is everything working out?"
"Well, I'm still English, and I'm still in Slytherin!" Lisa replied.
"That's good enough for me," Laura laughed.
"I did manage to make friends with Harry, Ron, and Hermione," I told the twins. "I think they're beginning to suspect something, though. They keep asking me all these questions, and, do you know what I found at the bottom of my trunk?" I couldn't keep it to myself anymore. I had looked through the book over and over again, and every time I did there was more writing, but never the ending.
"What?" Lisa and Laura asked in unison.
"The book."
"What book?" Lisa asked.
"This book."
"Huh?"
"Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone!" I said rather loudly.
"Shh!" Laura shushed me while Lisa sighed in realization. I nodded.
"What's that doing in your trunk?" Lisa then asked.
"Search me!" I replied.
We never got to the second order of business because, just then, we noticed a lantern floating along in midair in the Restricted Section of the library.
"What the?" And then we all remembered what night it was. "Oh, shit!"
"See ya Court!" Laura said, and then pressed a button on her watch and was gone.
"Wouldn't wanna be ya!" Lisa added, and then she shrank into the shadows, morphing some kind of bug I supposed. I stood there helplessly, again.
A piercing, bloodcurdling shriek split the silence, and I knew Harry had just opened one of the restricted books. The shrieking went on and on, one high, unbroken, earsplitting note. The light we had all seen suddenly went out with a crash. I heard footsteps coming down the corridor outside. Filch! I ran, staying close to the wall in the darkest shadows. Hard and painfully I ran into . . .
Hard air.
"Harry, let me under the cloak!" I hissed. I saw an arm reach out, and I was pulled underneath the invisibility cloak. We passed Filch in the doorway; Filch's pale, wild eyes looked straight through us, and we slipped under his outstretched arm and streaked off up the corridor.
We came to a sudden halt in front of a tall suit of armor. We had no idea where the hell we were. In our hurry to get away from the library, we hadn't paid attention to where we were going. Perhaps because it was dark, we didn't recognize where we were at all. There was a suit of armor near the kitchens, we knew that, but we must have been at least 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."
The blood drained from my face. Wherever we were, Filch must have known a shortcut, because his soft, greasy voice was getting nearer, and to my horror, and I'm sure to Harry's as well, it was Snape who replied, "The Restricted Section? Well, they can't be far, we'll catch them."
The two of us stood rooted to the spot as Filch and Snape came around the corner ahead. They couldn't see us, of course, but it was a narrow corridor and if they came much nearer they'd knock right into us --- the cloak didn't stop us from being solid.
Harry pulled on my arm, and we backed away as quietly as we could. A door stood ajar to our left. It was our only hope. Harry squeezed through first, and I followed close behind him, holding our breath, trying not to move the door, and to our relief we managed to get inside the room without Filch and Snape noticing anything. They walked straight past, and we leaned against the wall, breathing deeply, listening to their footsteps dying away. That had been close, very close. But hey! I hadn't been caught!
I stepped out from underneath the cloak and looked around the room. My eyes fell on the spot where Harry stood, invisible still. "Thanks," I told him quietly.
"No problem," he replied with question in his voice.
I looked around the room, taking it into consideration. It looked like an unused classroom. The dark shapes of desks and chairs were piled against the walls, and there was an upturned wastepaper basket --- but propped against the wall facing me 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 whosi.
I remained standing where I was, but Harry moved nearer to the mirror. I only knew this because of the shuffling sound his feet made on the floor. He still had the invisibility cloak on. When nothing happened for about fifteen minutes, I took a step forward. "Harry, are you all right?"
"Come here!" Harry suddenly said, throwing the invisibility cloak off of himself. I walked over to him. "It's my parents, look!" I looked in the mirror, but I didn't see his parents.
I saw me.
No, there was something . . . something was wrong. I couldn't for the life of me figure out what it was. I saw my flannel pajamas, my bare feet, my long, frizzy, brown hair, nothing was different. But then I saw my eyes. There was the difference. My eyes were happy, perfectly content with the world. This girl hadn't gone to alternate universes. She hadn't died twice, fought in raging, bloody battles. She was normal, more normal than I had ever been. She had a good life, a better life than I would ever have again. She was happy, she was free, she was . . .
Not me.
This girl wasn't me, she couldn't be. I realized that this was the girl that I wanted to be. I didn't want to have any sort of power, any sort of special responsibility.
I wanted to cry. I wanted to scream. I wanted to hit someone, make them feel even a fraction of the pain I had felt. But I hid my emotions. I fought back the tears, bit back the scream, held down the punch.
"Do you see them?" Harry asked, hurtling me back into the heartwrenching reality I was now in.
"Yeah, Harry," I replied, "I see them." What else was I supposed to say? "No, I don't see your parents. But, hey, don't forget to bring Ron to see this mirror!" Dumbledore told me not to alter anything, and if that meant lying, then so be it.
Harry was in ecstasy. He began to point people out to me, people I couldn't see. His mom, his dad, his grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins. I felt horrible. I didn't know who he was talking about, all I could see was myself. My happy, content, never-to-be self.
"Harry, maybe we should go," I told him. "We don't want to get caught."
"You're right."
I walked over to the door, but behind me heard Harry whisper, "I'll come back." Then he joined me; we threw the invisibility cloak over us, and made our way back to Gryffindor tower. Luckily, the excitement of the mirror had kept Harry from asking me any questions.
Once again I say, why me?
"You could have woken me up," Ron said crossly.
"You can come tonight, I'm going back, I want to show you the mirror."
"I'd like to see your mom and dad," Ron told Harry 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," Ron replied. "Just come round my house this summer. Anyway, maybe it only shows dead people. Shame not finding Flamel, though. Have some bacon or something, why aren't you eating?"
When Harry didn't reply, Ron turned to me. "And you look sick. Are you feeling all right?"
No, I wasn't all right. I felt horrible. I had lied to Harry; I had lied to everyone. I had been thinking all night about telling them the truth. Unfortunately, if I told them the truth, I would not only lose my friends, but I would lose Dumbledore's trust.
"Yeah, I'm fine."
"Then you should eat something as well," Ron told me. I smiled, picked up a piece of bacon, and reluctantly began eating it. "Are you all right?" he then asked Harry. "You look odd."
Again, no reply.
That night, there were three of us under the cloak. This slowed us down. We tried retracing Harry's and my route from the library, wandering around the dark passageways for nearly an hour.
"I'm freezing," Ron said. "Let's forget it and go back."
"No!" Harry hissed. "I know it's here somewhere."
We 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, Harry spotted the suit of armor.
"It's here --- just here --- yes!"
We pushed the door open. Harry dropped the cloak from around his shoulders and ran to the mirror. Ron followed. I stayed by the door.
"See?" I heard Harry whisper.
"I can't see anything," Ron replied.
"Look! Look at them all . . . there are loads of them . . ."
"I can only see you."
"Look in properly, go on, stand where I am."
Harry stepped aside, and Ron stood in front of the mirror.
Ron stared 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 looked at Harry.
"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 out in the corridor put an end to their discussion. They hadn't realized how loudly they had been talking.
"Quick!"
I ran over, and Ron threw the cloak back over us as the luminous eyes of Mrs. Norris came round the door. We stood quite still all of us thinking the same thing --- did the cloak work on cats? After what seemed like ages, she turned and left.
"This isn't safe --- she might have gone for Filch, I bet she heard us. Come on."
And between Ron and me, we got Harry out of the room.
By the time we got back to Gryffindor tower, I was on the verge of tears. Harry would know that I had lied to him, and I couldn't tell him the truth about me. I needed someone; I needed Lisa, or Laura. I just needed someone who could give me a little hope, something that I had run out of a long time ago.
I went to bed miserable.
The snow still hadn't melted the next morning.
"Want to play chess, Harry?" Ron asked.
"No."
"Why don't we go down and visit Hagrid?"
"No . . . you go . . ."
"I know what you're thinking about, Harry, 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, Harry, don't go."
Harry was going to go anyway.
I had sat by the window all day just staring outside at the snow. My life had taken a drastic turn, and I feared it was for the worse. Harry still had not asked me anything, even though I could tell in the way he talked to me that there was something nagging at the back of his brain. Every time he looked at me, I got uncomfortable. It was one of those betrayal looks. I hate those.
That night, I waited in the common room for Harry. When he came down the stairs, I stopped him. "Don't go, Harry, please don't."
"You lied to me," was his response.
"I had to," I told him desperately. With an angry scowl, he threw the invisibility cloak over himself. "At least let me come with you."
Silence.
"If you get us caught . . ." Then the cloak was raised and I stepped underneath of it.
We found our way more quickly that night than before. We were walking so fast that we knew we were making more noise than was wise, but we didn't meet anyone.
When we got to the room, Harry dropped the cloak and ran to the mirror. I sat down against the wall and watched him. Harry sank down to sit on the floor in front of the mirror.
"So --- back again, Harry?"
Harry looked behind him. Sitting on one of the desks by the wall was none other than Albus Dumbledore.
"I --- I didn't see you, sir."
"Strange how nearsighted being invisible can make you," Dumbledore said. He was smiling, which came as a relief.
"So," Dumbledore continued, slipping off the desk to sit on the floor with Harry, "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 realized 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," Dumbledore said gently. "Now, can you think what the Mirror of Erised shows us all?"
Harry shook his 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?"
Harry said slowly, "It shows us what we want . . . whatever we want . . ."
"Yes and no," Dumbledore replied 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 nor 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, Harry, 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?"
Harry 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, woolen socks."
Harry stared.
"One can never have enough socks," Dumbledore told him. "Another Christmas has come and gone and I didn't get a single pair. People insist on giving me books."
Harry walked over to me and made to throw the cloak over us, but Dumbledore stopped him. "I would like to talk to Miss Caillet, Harry. I'll see that she gets up to Gryffindor tower." Harry nodded, threw the cloak over himself, and left.
"Professor, I . . ." I began, but Dumbledore cut me off.
"Come with me to my office."
Once seated in Dumbledore's office, I tried to look anywhere but at Dumbledore himself. "I know this is getting hard for you," Dumbledore began. "I've spoken with Lisa and Laura; they told me about the watch and the morphing power." As shocked as I was by this I kept a straight face and said nothing. "I appreciate your attempts to cover up the truth, to keep your word to me, but . . ." he hesitated. "But if it gets to be too hard, please tell me. It is vital that the truth remain unsaid, but I can always take you out of Gryffindor tower, find you another place to stay."
No! I screamed in my head. I don't want another place to stay; I want to tell them all the truth! They deserve to know the truth!
"I know what you saw in the Mirror, and I can imagine how hard it must be to feel that way," Dumbledore told me.
"No," I said quietly, "you can't even begin to imagine what it's like to feel the things that I feel. No one can."
Neither of us said anything for awhile.
"I'm sorry," I finally told him. "You must have some idea, you sent me the only thing that brings me any comfort."
"And what might that be?" Dumbledore inquired.
"My sword."
He smiled. "I thought you might appreciate that."
"May I go now, sir?" I asked.
"Allow me to walk you, otherwise you will most likely get into trouble."
I nodded, and we left Dumbledore's office.
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 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 our breath rose in a mist before us and we kept as close as possible to our hot cauldrons. Potions classes were the only time I saw Lisa, and from what she could tell me, we would be seeing a lot more of each other, and Laura, before winter break was over.
"I do feel so sorry," Draco Malfoy said 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 Harry as he spoke. Crabbe and Goyle chuckled. Lisa hit him upside his head and told him that she was staying for the holidays and to shut-up. He didn't bring the subject up again.
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 Harry as Seeker next. Then he'd realized that nobody found this funny, because they were all so impressed at the way Harry had managed to stay on his bucking broomstick. So Malfoy, jealous and angry, had gone back to taunting Harry about having no proper family.
It was true that Harry was staying at Hogwarts and not going back to Privet Drive, where he lived with his Aunt Petunia, Uncle Vernon, and Cousin Dudley. I was staying, too, because, frankly, I had nowhere else to go! Lisa and Laura were staying, as well as Ron and his brothers, because Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were going to Romania to visit Charlie, their second- oldest son, who worked with dragons.
When we left the dungeons at the end of Potions, we found a large fir tree blocking the corridor ahead. Two enormous feet sticking out from the bottom and a loud puffing sound told us 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 us. "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," Hagrid reported, 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," replied 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. Lisa followed not far behind, but she slipped me a note in the process. I hid it in one of my books and watched her walk away.
"I'll get him," Ron said, grinding his teeth at Malfoy's back, "one of these days, I'll get him ---"
"I hate them both," Harry remarked, "Malfoy and Snape."
"That Lisa girl's not much better."
"Yeah," Harry agreed, "but I guess we can't talk. Courtney's gotten the worst end of her temper."
"Yeah, why don't you ever say anything bad about her?" Ron asked.
"So, Hagrid," I said, in an attempt to change the subject away from myself.
"Come on, cheer up, it's nearly Christmas," Hagrid told the guys, saving me. I would have to send him an owl when the weather got a little better. "Tell yeh what, come with me an' see the Great Hall, looks a treat."
So we all 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," Hermione replied. "And that reminds me --- Harry, Ron, Courtney, we've got half an hour before lunch, we should be in the library."
"Oh yeah, you're right," Ron agreed. I nodded as well, tearing my 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?" Hagrid asked, following us out of the hall. "Just before the holidays? Bit keen, aren't yeh?"
"Oh, we're not working," Harry 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," Hermione lied.
"Unless you'd like to tell us and save us a lot of trouble?" Harry 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'," Hagrid said flatly.
"Just have to find out for ourselves, then," Ron remarked, and we left Hagrid looking disgruntled and hurried off to the library.
We had indeed been searching books for Flamel's name ever since Hagrid had let it slip. Harry, Hermione, and Ron were looking because they wanted to find out what Snape was supposedly trying to steal. I was looking so that I didn't become a suspicious character in their eyes. I needed their friendship if I planned to get through the year. The trouble for them was that they didn't 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 Noble 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. My problem was that I did know where to begin, as a matter-of- fact, I knew exactly what book he was in, and I couldn't tell them!
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. Harry wandered over to the Restricted Section. I knew his thoughts. He was wondering if Flamel might be somewhere in there. Unfortunately, you needed a specially signed note from one of the teachers to look in any of the restricted books, and he would never get one. They were books containing powerful Dark Magic never taught at Hogwarts, and only read by older students studying advanced Defense Against the Dark Arts. I was sitting at a near-by table thinking about the lonely, presentless Christmas that I was going to have instead of looking for Nicolas Flamel. I suddenly remembered Lisa's note and pulled it out of my book and read it. It was nothing important, stating only that it was nearly Christmas, that she had a special gift for me, and that we'd be having at least one meeting with Laura before the Christmas break was over. I folded the note back up and hid it in my robe.
"What are you looking for, boy?" came a near-by voice.
"Nothing," Harry said. I rolled my eyes.
Madam Pince the librarian brandished a feather duster at him.
"You'd better get out, then. Go on --- out!"
Harry left the library. I got up to follow him. Harry, Ron, and Hermione had all agreed that they had 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. I don't include myself in this decision because I had just sat there and nodded while they discussed it.
I followed Harry into the corridor and made myself comfortable against a wall. "Aren't you going to look for Flamel?" Harry asked me.
"Is there a point?"
Harry shrugged. "I guess not."
A few minutes later, Ron and Hermione joined us, shaking their heads. We went off to lunch.
"You will keep looking while I'm away, won't you?" Hermione asked. "And send me an owl if you find anything."
"And you could ask your parents if they know who Flamel is," Ron said. "It'd be safe to ask them."
"Very safe, as they're both dentists," Hermione told him.
Once the holidays had started, I, along with Ron and Harry, was having too good a time to think much about Flamel, or anything for that matter. I had the dormitory totally to myself and the common room was far emptier than usual, so we were able to get the good armchairs by the fire. I sat with Harry and Ron by the hour eating anything we could spear on a toasting fork --- bread, English muffins, marshmallows --- and plotting ways of getting Malfoy expelled, which were fun to talk about even if they wouldn't work.
Ron also started teaching Harry wizard chess. I would sit in an armchair reading and watching. It 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.
Harry played with chessmen Seamus Finnigan had lent him, and they didn't trust him at all. He wasn't a very good player yet and they kept shouting different bits of advice at him, 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, I went to bed looking forward to the next day for the food and the fun, but not expecting any presents at all. When I woke early in the morning, however, the first thing I saw was a very small pile of packages at the foot of my bed. I crawled over to them and began to look through them.
On top was a rather heavy and lumpy package wrapped in thick brown paper. Scrawled across it was To Courtney, from Hagrid. Inside I found treacle fudge, and decided to save it for a later time (or never, whichever came first). I picked up the next parcel, which was rather small. When I opened it, I recognized the handwriting on it as Lisa's and looked at the gift. It was a package of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans, but every flavor except booger, vomit, and spaghetti flavored had been picked out. "Oh, ha, ha Lisa," I said sarcastically to no one. I had sent her a bracelet I'd found at the bottom of my trunk, and look what I got in return. I rolled my eyes and set the beans with the treacle fudge. There was a sudden tapping on my window and I looked up to see Pep. I smiled and hurried over to let her in. She didn't have a note with her, but I guess she didn't want me to be alone on Christmas morning. I was happy to have a companion and shut the window as Pep flew over to rest on my bed. She hooted cheerfully as I joined her and I stroked her a bit.
Soon, I was back to opening my gifts. The next one was from Laura. It was one Chocolate Frog. I laughed and set it aside. I had sent her a necklace that I had found at the bottom of my trunk. Hmm, there was a lot of stuff at the bottom of my trunk.
The next parcel was soft and lumpy. I opened it and was very surprised to find a sweater. I held it up. It was murrey colored and it had a yellow flower on it. I smiled and pulled it over my head. It was nice and warm.
The next three parcels contained more candy from Harry, Ron, and Hermione. I felt rather bad. All I had been able to send them was a poem each. My trunk had stopped producing gifts!
There was one more parcel left. It was long and I couldn't for the life of me think of what it might be. I ripped the paper off of it, and then I opened the box. I saw something glinting in the early morning sun streaming through my window. I grabbed it and pulled. Out of the box came . . .
My sword!
My breath caught and I dropped the box. I stood up with the blade in my grasp. It felt so good to be holding it again. For once, I didn't have any memories or flashbacks. I waved the sword around a bit trying to get the old feel of it back. It came quickly. Now grinning, I put the sword back in the box. I didn't want to share it with anyone.
Then, I got Pep up onto my shoulder, where she then progressed to my head, and walked over to the boys' dormitories. I knocked a couple times and stepped back. Harry opened the door. "Merry Christmas!" I said cheerfully.
"Merry Christmas!" Harry replied. "Come on in." He opened the door wider and I walked in.
"You got a Weasley sweater, too?" Ron moaned. I laughed. "All I did was tell her that you two didn't expect any gifts and she went and made both of you sweaters!"
"It's really very nice of her," I told him, sitting down on a near-by bed. I saw Harry glance at his bed. I knew he was thinking about the invisibility cloak he had just received. Just then, the dormitory door was flung open and Fred and George Weasley bounded in. "Merry Christmas!"
"Hey, look --- Harry and Courtney have got Weasley sweaters, too!"
Fred and George were wearing blue sweaters, one with a large yellow F on it, the other a G.
"Theirs are better than ours, though," Fred remarked, holding up Harry's sweater and looking at mine. "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 halfheartedly 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."
I stifled a laugh as someone else came into the dormitory.
"What's all this noise?"
Percy Weasley stuck his head through the door, looking disapproving. He had clearly gotten halfway through unwrapping his presents as he, too, carried a lumpy sweater over his arm, which Fred seized.
"P for prefect! Get it on, Percy, come on, we're all wearing ours, even Harry and Courtney have got one."
"I --- don't --- want ---" Percy objected thickly, as the twins forced the sweater over his head, knocking his glasses askew.
"And you're not sitting with the prefects today, either," George told him. "Christmas is a time for family."
They frog-marched Percy from the room, his arms pinned to his side by his sweater.
I have never in all my life had such a Christmas dinner as I did that day. A hundred fat, roast turkeys; mountains of roast and boiled potatoes; platters of 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. The fantastic party favors were nothing like the feeble Muggle ones, with their little plastic toys and their flimsy paper hats inside. I watched Harry pull a wizard cracker with Fred and it didn't just bang, it went off with a blast like a cannon and engulfed everyone in a cloud of blue smoke, while from the inside exploded a rear admiral's hat and several live, white mice. I took the hat, which no one else wanted, and looked up at 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. I watched Hagrid getting redder and redder in the face as he called for more wine, finally kissing Professor McGonagall on the cheek, who, to my amazement, giggled and blushed, her top hat lopsided.
When I finally left the table, I was laden down with a stack of things out of the crackers, including three hats (the one Harry had given me, an oversized cowboy hat, and a sombrero), a pack of non-explodable balloons, and a pair of tap shoes that tapped on any surface (now that's what I'm talking about)! The white mice had disappeared and I had a nasty feeling they were going to end up as Mrs. Norris' Christmas dinner.
The Weasleys, Harry, and I spent a happy afternoon having a furious snowball fight on the grounds. Then, cold, wet, and gasping for breath, we returned to the fire in the Gryffindor common room, where Harry broke in his new chess set by losing spectacularly to Ron. I don't think he would have lost so badly if Percy hadn't tried to help him so much.
After a meal of turkey sandwiches, crumpets, trifle, and Christmas cake, we all 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.
Despite the fact that my family was universes away, and my friends were in some other part of the castle pretending to hate me, it was probably the best Christmas day ever. I climbed into bed without a worry and closed my eyes.
I never even touched the brink of sleep before I heard a tapping at my window, and it wasn't a dainty tap like Pep usually made. It was a big tap.
I opened my eyes and looked over at the window. There was Laura's barred owl, Fyodor, with a note. I groaned and went over to the window to let him in. I took the note from him and, without an answer, he left. I opened the note and read it.
Court, Meet Lisa and me in the library, 12:00. See ya there! ~Laura
The library again? And she was supposed to be the leader? Yeah, right. I sighed, threw the letter away, and plopped down on my bed again. Why me?
I decided that sleeping was not an option, so I got out my sword and began refreshing my brain. I couldn't believe how out of shape I was. My thrust had no power behind it! My lunge was so pathetic I wanted to cry. I kept practicing right up until ten till midnight. Then, reluctantly, I put my sword away and left Gryffindor tower.
I crept down the icy stone steps into the common room, which was dark and cold. The fire had died down and the chairs all cast eerie shadows in the little bit of moonlight that was still coming through the windows. I tiptoed hurriedly to the portrait hole and climbed through it. "Who's there now?" squawked the Fat Lady. Now? I thought. I shrugged it off and just continued down the corridor without saying a word. The Fat Lady couldn't see me, it was too dark. I made my way silently, almost like a shadow, down to the library.
The library was pitch-black, unlike when I had been there before at 8:30. At least then there had been moonlight streaming in. I highly doubted we would be caught tonight. There was whispering coming from somewhere in the back of the chamber, so I flitted over towards it. There stood Lisa and Laura, Lisa wearing skintight clothing for morphing, Laura in a yellow bathrobe. "Why the library?" I asked when I got near enough.
"Would you have preferred the bathroom?"
"Yes, actually," I said. "And why midnight?"
"Because I'm the leader and I said so!"
"Whatever."
"Okay, Laura's third council has just been called to order. First order of business, how is everything working out?"
"Well, I'm still English, and I'm still in Slytherin!" Lisa replied.
"That's good enough for me," Laura laughed.
"I did manage to make friends with Harry, Ron, and Hermione," I told the twins. "I think they're beginning to suspect something, though. They keep asking me all these questions, and, do you know what I found at the bottom of my trunk?" I couldn't keep it to myself anymore. I had looked through the book over and over again, and every time I did there was more writing, but never the ending.
"What?" Lisa and Laura asked in unison.
"The book."
"What book?" Lisa asked.
"This book."
"Huh?"
"Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone!" I said rather loudly.
"Shh!" Laura shushed me while Lisa sighed in realization. I nodded.
"What's that doing in your trunk?" Lisa then asked.
"Search me!" I replied.
We never got to the second order of business because, just then, we noticed a lantern floating along in midair in the Restricted Section of the library.
"What the?" And then we all remembered what night it was. "Oh, shit!"
"See ya Court!" Laura said, and then pressed a button on her watch and was gone.
"Wouldn't wanna be ya!" Lisa added, and then she shrank into the shadows, morphing some kind of bug I supposed. I stood there helplessly, again.
A piercing, bloodcurdling shriek split the silence, and I knew Harry had just opened one of the restricted books. The shrieking went on and on, one high, unbroken, earsplitting note. The light we had all seen suddenly went out with a crash. I heard footsteps coming down the corridor outside. Filch! I ran, staying close to the wall in the darkest shadows. Hard and painfully I ran into . . .
Hard air.
"Harry, let me under the cloak!" I hissed. I saw an arm reach out, and I was pulled underneath the invisibility cloak. We passed Filch in the doorway; Filch's pale, wild eyes looked straight through us, and we slipped under his outstretched arm and streaked off up the corridor.
We came to a sudden halt in front of a tall suit of armor. We had no idea where the hell we were. In our hurry to get away from the library, we hadn't paid attention to where we were going. Perhaps because it was dark, we didn't recognize where we were at all. There was a suit of armor near the kitchens, we knew that, but we must have been at least 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."
The blood drained from my face. Wherever we were, Filch must have known a shortcut, because his soft, greasy voice was getting nearer, and to my horror, and I'm sure to Harry's as well, it was Snape who replied, "The Restricted Section? Well, they can't be far, we'll catch them."
The two of us stood rooted to the spot as Filch and Snape came around the corner ahead. They couldn't see us, of course, but it was a narrow corridor and if they came much nearer they'd knock right into us --- the cloak didn't stop us from being solid.
Harry pulled on my arm, and we backed away as quietly as we could. A door stood ajar to our left. It was our only hope. Harry squeezed through first, and I followed close behind him, holding our breath, trying not to move the door, and to our relief we managed to get inside the room without Filch and Snape noticing anything. They walked straight past, and we leaned against the wall, breathing deeply, listening to their footsteps dying away. That had been close, very close. But hey! I hadn't been caught!
I stepped out from underneath the cloak and looked around the room. My eyes fell on the spot where Harry stood, invisible still. "Thanks," I told him quietly.
"No problem," he replied with question in his voice.
I looked around the room, taking it into consideration. It looked like an unused classroom. The dark shapes of desks and chairs were piled against the walls, and there was an upturned wastepaper basket --- but propped against the wall facing me 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 whosi.
I remained standing where I was, but Harry moved nearer to the mirror. I only knew this because of the shuffling sound his feet made on the floor. He still had the invisibility cloak on. When nothing happened for about fifteen minutes, I took a step forward. "Harry, are you all right?"
"Come here!" Harry suddenly said, throwing the invisibility cloak off of himself. I walked over to him. "It's my parents, look!" I looked in the mirror, but I didn't see his parents.
I saw me.
No, there was something . . . something was wrong. I couldn't for the life of me figure out what it was. I saw my flannel pajamas, my bare feet, my long, frizzy, brown hair, nothing was different. But then I saw my eyes. There was the difference. My eyes were happy, perfectly content with the world. This girl hadn't gone to alternate universes. She hadn't died twice, fought in raging, bloody battles. She was normal, more normal than I had ever been. She had a good life, a better life than I would ever have again. She was happy, she was free, she was . . .
Not me.
This girl wasn't me, she couldn't be. I realized that this was the girl that I wanted to be. I didn't want to have any sort of power, any sort of special responsibility.
I wanted to cry. I wanted to scream. I wanted to hit someone, make them feel even a fraction of the pain I had felt. But I hid my emotions. I fought back the tears, bit back the scream, held down the punch.
"Do you see them?" Harry asked, hurtling me back into the heartwrenching reality I was now in.
"Yeah, Harry," I replied, "I see them." What else was I supposed to say? "No, I don't see your parents. But, hey, don't forget to bring Ron to see this mirror!" Dumbledore told me not to alter anything, and if that meant lying, then so be it.
Harry was in ecstasy. He began to point people out to me, people I couldn't see. His mom, his dad, his grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins. I felt horrible. I didn't know who he was talking about, all I could see was myself. My happy, content, never-to-be self.
"Harry, maybe we should go," I told him. "We don't want to get caught."
"You're right."
I walked over to the door, but behind me heard Harry whisper, "I'll come back." Then he joined me; we threw the invisibility cloak over us, and made our way back to Gryffindor tower. Luckily, the excitement of the mirror had kept Harry from asking me any questions.
Once again I say, why me?
"You could have woken me up," Ron said crossly.
"You can come tonight, I'm going back, I want to show you the mirror."
"I'd like to see your mom and dad," Ron told Harry 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," Ron replied. "Just come round my house this summer. Anyway, maybe it only shows dead people. Shame not finding Flamel, though. Have some bacon or something, why aren't you eating?"
When Harry didn't reply, Ron turned to me. "And you look sick. Are you feeling all right?"
No, I wasn't all right. I felt horrible. I had lied to Harry; I had lied to everyone. I had been thinking all night about telling them the truth. Unfortunately, if I told them the truth, I would not only lose my friends, but I would lose Dumbledore's trust.
"Yeah, I'm fine."
"Then you should eat something as well," Ron told me. I smiled, picked up a piece of bacon, and reluctantly began eating it. "Are you all right?" he then asked Harry. "You look odd."
Again, no reply.
That night, there were three of us under the cloak. This slowed us down. We tried retracing Harry's and my route from the library, wandering around the dark passageways for nearly an hour.
"I'm freezing," Ron said. "Let's forget it and go back."
"No!" Harry hissed. "I know it's here somewhere."
We 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, Harry spotted the suit of armor.
"It's here --- just here --- yes!"
We pushed the door open. Harry dropped the cloak from around his shoulders and ran to the mirror. Ron followed. I stayed by the door.
"See?" I heard Harry whisper.
"I can't see anything," Ron replied.
"Look! Look at them all . . . there are loads of them . . ."
"I can only see you."
"Look in properly, go on, stand where I am."
Harry stepped aside, and Ron stood in front of the mirror.
Ron stared 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 looked at Harry.
"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 out in the corridor put an end to their discussion. They hadn't realized how loudly they had been talking.
"Quick!"
I ran over, and Ron threw the cloak back over us as the luminous eyes of Mrs. Norris came round the door. We stood quite still all of us thinking the same thing --- did the cloak work on cats? After what seemed like ages, she turned and left.
"This isn't safe --- she might have gone for Filch, I bet she heard us. Come on."
And between Ron and me, we got Harry out of the room.
By the time we got back to Gryffindor tower, I was on the verge of tears. Harry would know that I had lied to him, and I couldn't tell him the truth about me. I needed someone; I needed Lisa, or Laura. I just needed someone who could give me a little hope, something that I had run out of a long time ago.
I went to bed miserable.
The snow still hadn't melted the next morning.
"Want to play chess, Harry?" Ron asked.
"No."
"Why don't we go down and visit Hagrid?"
"No . . . you go . . ."
"I know what you're thinking about, Harry, 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, Harry, don't go."
Harry was going to go anyway.
I had sat by the window all day just staring outside at the snow. My life had taken a drastic turn, and I feared it was for the worse. Harry still had not asked me anything, even though I could tell in the way he talked to me that there was something nagging at the back of his brain. Every time he looked at me, I got uncomfortable. It was one of those betrayal looks. I hate those.
That night, I waited in the common room for Harry. When he came down the stairs, I stopped him. "Don't go, Harry, please don't."
"You lied to me," was his response.
"I had to," I told him desperately. With an angry scowl, he threw the invisibility cloak over himself. "At least let me come with you."
Silence.
"If you get us caught . . ." Then the cloak was raised and I stepped underneath of it.
We found our way more quickly that night than before. We were walking so fast that we knew we were making more noise than was wise, but we didn't meet anyone.
When we got to the room, Harry dropped the cloak and ran to the mirror. I sat down against the wall and watched him. Harry sank down to sit on the floor in front of the mirror.
"So --- back again, Harry?"
Harry looked behind him. Sitting on one of the desks by the wall was none other than Albus Dumbledore.
"I --- I didn't see you, sir."
"Strange how nearsighted being invisible can make you," Dumbledore said. He was smiling, which came as a relief.
"So," Dumbledore continued, slipping off the desk to sit on the floor with Harry, "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 realized 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," Dumbledore said gently. "Now, can you think what the Mirror of Erised shows us all?"
Harry shook his 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?"
Harry said slowly, "It shows us what we want . . . whatever we want . . ."
"Yes and no," Dumbledore replied 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 nor 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, Harry, 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?"
Harry 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, woolen socks."
Harry stared.
"One can never have enough socks," Dumbledore told him. "Another Christmas has come and gone and I didn't get a single pair. People insist on giving me books."
Harry walked over to me and made to throw the cloak over us, but Dumbledore stopped him. "I would like to talk to Miss Caillet, Harry. I'll see that she gets up to Gryffindor tower." Harry nodded, threw the cloak over himself, and left.
"Professor, I . . ." I began, but Dumbledore cut me off.
"Come with me to my office."
Once seated in Dumbledore's office, I tried to look anywhere but at Dumbledore himself. "I know this is getting hard for you," Dumbledore began. "I've spoken with Lisa and Laura; they told me about the watch and the morphing power." As shocked as I was by this I kept a straight face and said nothing. "I appreciate your attempts to cover up the truth, to keep your word to me, but . . ." he hesitated. "But if it gets to be too hard, please tell me. It is vital that the truth remain unsaid, but I can always take you out of Gryffindor tower, find you another place to stay."
No! I screamed in my head. I don't want another place to stay; I want to tell them all the truth! They deserve to know the truth!
"I know what you saw in the Mirror, and I can imagine how hard it must be to feel that way," Dumbledore told me.
"No," I said quietly, "you can't even begin to imagine what it's like to feel the things that I feel. No one can."
Neither of us said anything for awhile.
"I'm sorry," I finally told him. "You must have some idea, you sent me the only thing that brings me any comfort."
"And what might that be?" Dumbledore inquired.
"My sword."
He smiled. "I thought you might appreciate that."
"May I go now, sir?" I asked.
"Allow me to walk you, otherwise you will most likely get into trouble."
I nodded, and we left Dumbledore's office.
