Christmas was coming! Blaise couldn't seem to hold still anymore; whether
it was during class, studying, or eating, she was always bouncing up and
down and smiling. While Harry, Cepheus, and Hermione thought this was
rather funny, Draco labeled it as "childish" and "stupid". They had yet to
find out why he was in such a bad mood.
One morning in mid-December Hogwarts awoke (or rather, Blaise did) to find itself covered in feet of snow. The hyperactive girl had come running into the boys' dorm, squealing and yelling. Draco had shoved his pillow over his head, Cepheus had grinned sleepily and Harry had looked out the window. Crabbe and Goyle, who had been wandering around by themselves since Draco ditched them, had slept through it. The only other occupant of the room, Caelum Nott, had shot a glare at them all before turning over and falling back asleep.
No one could wait for the holidays to start; Blaise was even rubbing off on Harry. His friend had even managed to persuade him out of his dark corner. After all, the dungeons were always freezing; the nearer to the fire you got, the warmer. The worst place to be, however, was not the Slytherin common room, but Snape's classroom. Harry and Draco, who had adopted Cepheus into their work-group with Snape's permission, kept as close to the fire underneath their cauldrons as possible. Cepheus, whom the cold seemed to have no effect on, was the only student in the class who had no problem venturing out to get ingredients.
A week before term ended, they found out why Draco was so sullen. Professor Snape came into the common room and passed around a list of students who would be staying for the holidays. Harry, not keen on returning to the streets (he didn't even /think/ about the Dursleys), had signed up immediately. To his delight, Blaise and Cepheus were also staying (neither wanted to return to their families). Draco, though, explained angrily that his mother wanted him home. The Gryffindors had already signed the list, and Hermione's name wasn't on there either.
They met up with the Gryffindor girl every day in the library, to scour the books for any sign of Nicolas Flamel. How else would they find out what Snape was trying to steal? A ridiculous author's name or a silly book title would distract one of them every once in a while, and they would lapse into giggles, breaking the cold silence of the library. Madam Pince, the hawk- like librarian, always kicked them out after these sorts of episodes. She even kicked Harry out for looking at the Restricted Section on the last day before term ended.
Once the holidays had started, the common room was empty. Harry, Blaise, and Cepheus had it all to themselves. However, it felt very lonely, not having Draco to say sarcastic things, and not meeting up with Hermione to search the library or talk. They'd promised her they'd keep looking, but they quickly forgot all about Flamel in favor of the fun they were having. They sat right next to the fire and roasted anything they could find - marshmallows, chocolate bars (which melted right off the sticks into the fire), raspberries, you name it.
Cepheus, who had played wizard chess against Draco (who was the unofficial chess leader of Slytherin) and lost every game, started teaching Harry how to play. Harry wasn't much of a strategist, but eventually he got good enough to beat Cepheus and Blaise both. Cepheus deemed him worthy of challenging Draco.
On Christmas Eve, Harry, Blaise, and Cepheus brought down their blankets and pillows and settled down in front of the fire. They talked well into the night. When Harry finally did fall asleep, he was looking forward to the food and fun of the next day, not expecting any presents. However, upon waking up the next morning, he found a small pile of presents at the foot of his makeshift bed.
"Happy Christmas." Cepheus said sleepily as he woke.
"You, too," Harry replied, reaching forward and touching the pile of presents. "Look! I've got presents."
"PRESENTS!!!!!!!"
"Ow!" cried Harry and Cepheus, both covering their ears. Blaise had woken up.
Harry picked up the nearest present and opened the letter.
Dear Harry, it said in Hermione's neat script. I know how much you like /Quidditch Through The Ages/, so here's your own copy. Have a very happy Christmas!
Harry, eyes alight, opened the package. A brand new, gleaming copy of /Quidditch Through The Ages/ fell into his lap. He ran his hand over the cover.
Carefully placing the book on his pillow, he pulled over the next present. It was wrapped in thick brown paper. To Harry, From Hagrid, it said in the gamekeeper's untidy scrawl. The group had been visiting Hagrid more often, and Hagrid had grown rather fond of them. Opening it, Harry found a roughly cut wooden flute. He admired it for a moment, then blew in it. It sounded quite like an owl.
The next present was from Draco to the three of them. It contained a huge box of homemade peanut butter fudge and three boxes chock full of chocolate frogs. Harry, laughing, read Draco's letter out loud to Blaise and Cepheus.
"Harry, Blaise, and Cepheus,
"I told her not to do it! But no! 'We must show your friends hospitality, Draco!' Just know that I tried to make her not do it! It's really quite tasty, but really. Fudge? I feel like a Weasley.
"Have a happy Christmas, Draco."
From Cepheus, Harry received a huge container of The Three Broomsticks' best butterbeer mix (just add water!) and a book on self-defense. They shared a meaningful look.
From Blaise he got a standard wand holster. He was delighted with it, but said he'd put it on later. He wasn't keen on exposing his skin more than necessary.
He was delighted to see a small pile of presents for Sadie. She got a miniature wizard's hat (which she detested), a few boxes of rat and mouse flavor snake treats (which she loved), and a bird perch (which she liked curling up around).
Finally Harry only had two presents left. Even though Blaise and Cepheus had many more presents than he did, they'd gone through theirs a lot faster and had none left. So they watch Harry take the smaller one first.
A thin silver chain fell into his lap when he opened it. He picked it up, and a pendant fell into place.
"Wow!" said Cepheus.
'Wow' fit the pendant fairly well. On one side was a big, burly snake, mouth open, fangs gleaming. It was a poisonous green color, with black eyes and red slits for pupils. On the other side was a dragon, pure white, wings spread wide, teeth bared. Its eyes, too, were black, were red slits. The two creatures were intertwined, and right in the middle of the pendant was a single letter: S.
"Who gave /that/ to you?" Blaise breathed. Harry searched around the paper, but there wasn't any letter.
"No note." He said before tying the chain around his neck. The pendant fell in the middle of his chest.
"You look so beautiful, Harry!" Cepheus exclaimed, putting his hand over his heart and using the kind of voice Pansy Parkinson always spoke in.
Harry batted his eyelashes.
"Do you really think so?"
Blaise collapsed into a fit of giggles.
"One more!" Harry said, voice back to normal. He grabbed the last parcel and opened it.
Something fluid and silvery gray went slithering to the floor, where it lay in gleaming folds of fabric. Blaise gasped.
"I've heard of those!" she said in a hushed voice. "If that's what I think it is - they're unbelievably rare!"
"What is it?" Harry said uncertainly, picking it up. It felt strange to touch, like water woven into material.
"Put it on!" said Cepheus. "It's an invisibility cloak!"
Harry threw the cloak around his shoulders. Blaise and Cepheus yelled as one.
"It is!" Blaise yelped.
Harry looked down.
He couldn't see his feet.
"Where'd my feet go?" he said, panicked. Blaise collapsed into giggles again.
"You're invisible, Harry. That's why it's called an Invisibility Cloak."
Harry dashed over to the mirror and looked in. His head was suspended in midair. He pulled the hood over himself.
"I feel like a vampire." He said softly. Then, in a very quiet voice: "I veell drink your blood!"
"There's a note!" Blaise said suddenly, no longer giggling. Harry whirled around, taking the cloak off. "Whoa! Didn't see you there, Harry."
"Oh, ha." He said, picking up the note. Written in narrow, loopy writing he'd never seen before were the following words: 'James left this in my possession before he died. It is time it was given to you. Use it well. A Very Happy Christmas to you.'
There was no signature. Harry stared at the note.
"Who sent it to you?" Cepheus asked, admiring the cloak.
"There's . . . there's no name." He answered absently. He felt very strange. Did this cloak really belong to James Potter, his father? Who'd sent it?
"Weird . . ." Blaise muttered.
The three of them transferred their presents to their beds, Harry's mind clouded with thoughts of the cloak.
However, once he'd sat down for Christmas dinner, thoughts of the cloak were driven out of his mind to be replaced with thoughts of food. More food than he had ever seen in his life. A hundred fat roasted turkeys; mountains of roast and boiled potatoes; platters of chipolatas (A/N: what are those?); tureens of buttered peas; silver boats of thick, rich gravy and cranberry sauce - and stacks of wizard crackers every few feet along the table. Harry was particularly interested in these. They were nothing like the feeble muggle ones. Harry pulled a cracker with Blaise and it didn't just bang, it went off with a blast like a cannon and engulfed them all in a cloud of blue smoke, while from the inside exploded a real admiral's hat and several live, white mice. Up at the High Table, Dumbledore had swapped his pointed hat for a flowered bonnet and was chuckling merrily at a joke Professor Flitwick had just read him.
Flaming Christmas puddings had followed the turkey. Cepheus nearly broke his teeth on a silver sickle embedded in his slice. Harry watched Hagrid getting redder and redder in the face as he called for more wine, finally kissing McGonagall on the cheek. To Harry's amazement, the usually stern professor giggled and blushed, her hat lopsided.
When Harry finally left the table, he was laden down with a stack of things out of the crackers, including a pack of luminous, non-explodable balloons, a Grow-Your-Own-Warts kit, and his own new wizards chess set. The white mice had disappeared and Blaise voiced her opinion that they were probably Mrs. Norris' Christmas dinner.
Harry, Blaise, Cepheus, and the Weasley twins (who joined them of their own accord) spent a happy afternoon having a furious snowball fight on the grounds. At first it was purely non-magical, but after being hit in the face five times, Blaise resorted to magic.
Eventually, cold, wet, and gasping for breath, the Slytherins returned to the fire in their common room, where Harry broke in his new set by losing narrowly to Blaise.
After a short meal of turkey sandwiches, crumpets, trifle, and Christmas cake, all three of them felt too full and sleepy to do much before bed except chat about the day (Cepheus blatantly refused to call it a chat; he thought the word made it sound to girly until Blaise reminded him that she was a girl and she was in on the chat).
It had been Harry's best Christmas by far. Yet something had been nagging at the back of his mind all day. Not until he climbed into bed (they agreed that the common room floor was uncomfortable and so Blaise was sleeping in Caelum Nott's bed, much to her horror) was he free to think about the invisibility cloak and whoever had sent it.
Blaise and Cepheus, both too full of turkey and sweets and with nothing mysterious lurking the corners of their brains, fell asleep as soon as they hit their beds. Harry leaned over the side of his own bed and pulled the cloak out from under it.
James' . . . this had been his father's. He let the material flow over his hand, smoother than silk, lighter than air. Use it well, the note had said.
He had to try it, now. He slid out of bed and wrapped the cloak around himself. Looking down at his legs, he saw only moonlight and shadows. It was a very funny feeling.
Use it well.
Suddenly Harry felt wide-awake. All of Hogwarts was open to him in this cloak. Excitement flooded through him as he stood there in the dark and silence. He could anywhere in this, anywhere, and Filch would never know.
Blaise snored in her sleep. Harry studied her bed. Should he wake her? What about Cepheus? Something held him back - his father's cloak - he felt that this time - the first time - he wanted to use it alone.
He crept out of the dormitory, across the common room, and through the stone wall.
Where should he go? He stopped, his heart racing, and thought. Then it came to him. The Restricted Section in the library. He'd be able to read as long as he liked, as long as it took to find out who Flamel was. He set off, drawing the invisibility cloak tight around him as he walked.
The library was pitch black and very eerie. Harry lit a lamp to see his way along the shelves of books. The lamp looked like it was floating in midair, and even though Harry could see his arm supporting it, the sight gave him the creeps.
The Restricted Section was at the back of the library. Stepping carefully over the rope that separated these books from the others, he held up the lamp to read the titles.
They didn't tell him much. Their peeling, faded gold letters spelled words in languages Harry knew nothing of. Some had no title at all. One had a dark stain on it that looked horribly like blood. The hairs on the back of Harry's neck prickled. Maybe he was imagining it, maybe not, but he thought a faint whispering was coming from the books, as though they knew someone was there who shouldn't be.
He had to start somewhere. Setting the lamp down carefully on the floor, he looked along the bottom shelf for a book that might seem interesting. A large blood red volume with a silver serpent on the spine caught his eye. He pulled it out with difficulty, because it was very heavy, and, balancing it on his knee, let it fall open.
A piercing, blood-curdling shriek split the silence. The book was screaming! Harry snapped it shut, but the scream went on and on, one high, unbroken, ear-splitting note. He stumbled backward and knocked over the lamp, which went out at once. Panicking, hearing footsteps coming down the corridor outside, he stuffed the book back onto the shelf and ran for it. He passed Filch in the doorway; Filch's pale, wild eyes stared right through him, and Harry slipped under Filch's outstretched arm and streaked off up the corridor, the book's shrieks still ringing in his ears.
He came to a sudden halt in front of a very tall suit of armor. He hadn't paid attention to where he was going in his haste to leave the library. Perhaps because it was dark, he didn't recognize where he was at all. There was a suit of armor near the kitchens, he knew, but that was five floors below.
"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."
Harry felt the blood drain from his face. Wherever he was, Filch must know a shortcut, because his soft, greasy voice was getting nearer, and to his horror, it was Snape who replied, "The Restricted Section? They can't be far. We'll catch them."
Harry stood rooted to the spot as Filch and Snape came around the corner ahead. They couldn't see him, of course, but it was a narrow corridor and if they came much nearer they'd knock right into him - the cloak didn't stop him from being solid.
He backed away as quietly as he could. A door stood ajar to his left. It was his only hope. He squeezed through it, holding his breath, trying not to move it, and to his relief he managed to get inside the room without their noticing anything. They walked straight past, and Harry leaned against the wall, breathing deeply, listening to their footsteps dying away.
It was a few seconds before he noticed anything about the room he was standing in. It looked like an unused classroom. The dark shapes of desks and chairs were piled against the walls and there as an upturned wastepaper basket - but propped against the wall facing him was something that didn't look as if it belonged there, something that looked as if someone had put it there to keep it out of the way.
It was a magnificent mirror, as high as the ceiling, with an ornate gold frame, standing on two clawed feet. There was an inscription carved around the top: Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi.
His panic fading now that there was no sign of Filch and Snape, Harry moved closer to the mirror, wanting to look at himself and see no reflection again. He stepped in front of it.
He had to clap his hands over his mouth to keep himself from screaming. He whirled around. His heart was pounding far more furiously than when the book had screamed - for he had seen not only himself in the mirror, but a woman standing just behind him.
But the room was empty. Breathing very fast, he turned very slowly back to the mirror.
There he was, reflected in it, white and scared-looking, and there, reflected behind him, was a tall, pretty woman. Harry looked over his shoulder - but still, no one was there. Or was she invisible too? Was he in fact in a room with an invisible person and the mirror's trick was that it reflected both of them, invisible or not?
He looked in the mirror again. The woman standing right behind his reflection was smiling at him and waving. He reached out a hand and felt the air behind him. If she was really there he'd touch her, their reflections were so close together, but he felt only air - she and the others existed only in the mirror.
She was a very pretty woman. She had dark red hair and her eyes - her eyes are just like mine, Harry thought, edging a little closer to the glass. Bright green - exactly the same shape, but then he noticed that she was crying; smiling, but crying at the same time.
Harry was so close to the mirror now that his nose was nearly touching that of his reflection.
"Mum?" he whispered, so softly that even he barely heard it.
She just looked at him, smiling. Harry scrutinized her face; he looked a lot like her.
She smiled at Harry and he looked hungrily back at her, his hands pressed flat against the glass as though he was hoping he could fall right through and reach her. He had a powerful kind of ache inside him: half joy, half terrible sadness.
How long he stood there, he didn't know. The reflection did not fade and he looked and looked until a distant noise brought him back to his senses. He couldn't stay here, he had to find his way back to bed. He tore his gaze from his mother's eyes, whispered, "I'll come back," and hurried from the room.
"You could've woken us!" Blaise grumbled.
"You two can come tonight. I want to show you the mirror."
"I'd like to see your family," Cepheus said.
"Yeah! Me too!" Blaise put in. Harry grinned.
"Your families will be interesting."
"No they won't," said Blaise at once. "Mine's just my mum, Brayden, and me."
"Who's Brayden?" Harry asked curiously.
"My brother. He's just out of Hogwarts."
Harry nodded. He looked at Cepheus.
"I have a mum, a dad, and two sisters."
Blaise snorted suddenly.
"Yeah; Lyra and Lynx. I remember them."
Cepheus grinned at her. "You mean from the time they tricked you into believing there was a mirror where there wasn't and that you didn't have a reflection?"
"Those were the days," Blaise said a tad dreamily.
* * *
What Harry worried about most was that he might not be able to find the room again. Blaise and Cepheus had joined him under the cloak, and moving became a bit of an issue. The three of them tried retracing his steps from the library for more than an hour.
"I'm cold," Blaise said, shivering. "Can we go back?"
"No!" Harry hissed. "I know it's here."
And Harry spotted the door.
"It's here!"
They pushed the door open. Harry dropped his cloak from his shoulders and sprinted for the mirror.
There she was. His mother, fiery hair draped over her shoulders, green eyes shining, beamed at him.
"See?" Harry whispered, in an awe-inspired voice.
"Um . . . Harry? I can't see anything." Blaise said, sounding worried.
"Look! Look at her . . . that's my mother!"
"Harry we only see the three of us." Cepheus said quietly.
"Here, stand where I am, look in properly."
Harry stepped aside, but with Cepheus in front of the mirror, he couldn't see his mother any more, only his friend. Cepheus, though, was staring open- mouthed at his reflection. Suddenly he jerked up his sleeve.
The Mark shone eerily in the moonlight. Cepheus' face contorted in confusion.
"What? What do you see?" Harry asked.
"Me," said Cepheus in amazement. "But . . . but I don't have the Mark . . . it's just bare skin where it ought to be . . . what . . . what is this mirror?"
"I don't know." Harry muttered. "I don't know."
"Can . . . can I try it?" said a very small voice. Harry looked at Blaise. She was trembling a little and her face was pale. Cepheus moved out of the way and she stepped forward. She froze in shock.
"What?" Cepheus whispered.
"Dad . . ." said Blaise in a choked voice. "Daddy . . ."
Cepheus gasped.
Harry stared.
"Daddy . . . Daddy . . ." Blaise whispered, tears forming in her eyes. "Daddy . . ." she reached a hand out but only touched the mirror's surface.
"You see your mum, I see myself minus the Mark, Blaise sees her dad . . ." Cepheus muttered under his breath. "What does this mirror do?"
"The question is," Harry said, "why do I only see my mum? Why not my dad?"
"I don't know . . ."
A noise in the corridor made them look up.
Harry snatched the invisibility cloak and threw it over his shoulders. He grabbed Cepheus and the two of them tore Blaise away from the mirror. Just as the cloak fell over Blaise, a pair of luminous eyes followed by a scruffy body peered round the door. Harry, Blaise, and Cepheus stood still, thinking the same thought - could Mrs. Norris see through the cloak? After several minutes of tense silence, the cat turned and walked away.
"I bet she's gone for Filch. We have to go," Harry said and they started out of the room.
* * *
The snow hadn't melted the next morning.
"Want to play chess, Harry?" Cepheus asked gamely. Harry shook his head, thoughts dwelling on his mother and the mirror.
"Why don't we go and visit Hagrid?" Blaise said.
"No," Harry said, a bit irritated.
"I know what you're are thinking about. Let's not go back to the mirror tonight."
Harry looked up at Cepheus. "Why not?"
"I have a bad feeling about it, that's why."
But Harry only had one thought in his mind: his mother. He was going back to the mirror and Cepheus wasn't going to stop him.
The third night he found his way more quickly than before. He was so focused on his goal that he forgot to walk quietly; it was a miracle no one caught him.
And there was his mother, smiling widely, brushing her dark red hair out of her face. Nothing was stopping him from seeing his mother. Nothing.
Except -
"So - back again, Harry?"
Harry whirled around, mouth dry, wand drawn. There, sitting on one of the dusty desks, was Albus Dumbledore. He must have walked straight past the Headmaster, too eager to see his mother to care.
"I - I didn't -" Harry stuttered, lowering his wand.
"Odd how nearsighted being invisible can make you." To Harry's relief, Dumbledore was smiling. "So, you have discovered the delights of the Mirror of Erised."
He had slipped off the desk and was standing next to Harry. Harry furrowed his brow.
"I didn't know it was called that."
"But I expect you've realized by now what it does."
"It shows me my mother." Harry tried to swallow past the lump in his throat. He turned and looked at his mother's smiling face.
"It also showed Miss Zabini her father and Mr. Major his reflection without his Mark."
Harry gaped at him.
"I need no cloak to become invisible, Harry," said Dumbledore gently. "Can you think what the mirror shows us?"
Harry looked into his mother's eyes.
"I . . . I've heard of how Cepheus sort of wallowed in self-pity after he got the Mark . . . so to see himself without it . . . and Blaise's mother killed her father at one of the 'parties' . . . Voldemort killed my mother . . . Does it show us what we want to see?" Harry concluded, looking to Dumbledore. To his surprise, Dumbledore was beaming at him.
"Very good, Harry, very good. This mirror shows us the deepest, darkest desire of our hearts. You, who have never known your mother, see her beside you. Cepheus Major, who has never wanted the Mark, sees himself without it. And Blaise Zabini, who has always loved her father, sees him alive again. However, this mirror gives us neither knowledge nor truth. Men have wasted away before it, entranced by what they have seen, or driven mad, not knowing if what they see is real.
"The mirror will be moved to a new home tomorrow, Harry. I ask you not to look 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, Harry. Now, why don't you put that admirable cloak back on and hop off to bed?"
Harry nodded, picking up the cloak.
"Professor? Can . . . can I ask you something?"
"Obviously, as you've just done so." Dumbledore smiled. "You may ask me one more thing though."
"What do you see when you look in the mirror?"
"I? I see myself holding a pair of thick, woolen socks."
Harry stared at him.
"One can never have enough socks," Dumbledore said. "Another Christmas has come and gone and I didn't get a single pair. People insist on giving me books."
It was only when he was back in bed that it struck Harry that Dumbledore might not have been quite truthful. But then, Harry thought as he watched moonlight illuminating the faces of his friends, it was a very personal question.
A/N: OK people this took forever to get out, but hey! It's ten pages. This is good for me. More soon. And you guys if you want to know when each chapter comes out, please leave me your email address in a review so I can send you a link.
Oh by the way one of my friends posted a story recently and isn't getting any reviews; it's a neat story too. Maybe you could give her a hand and read it? Don't tell her I told you too of course. Her log-in name is LyraAndCassiopia. Her story is called Phoenix Song. Please leave her a nice review?
Reviews:
Lord Master Omega: Thanks.
DaBear: Thanks!
Boomerang-chan: Sorry, I felt I had to make up for the wait. Hehe!
Tigerlily: I know, its stupid. Yeah, I like Cepheus; he's a cool guy.
Desert Fox: I hate you. Leave me alone before I blow up at you.
Ryra Skorka: Sorry, I didn't make the formatting that way! It's ff.net's fault! Blame it on them!
Muggle Girl: :: Blushes a lot :: Thanks! I was waiting for SOMEone to comment on the effort I put in to being witty. Yeah, I love those too! You can keep reading and reading and reading and . . . anyway . . . Yeah, Harry seems to suddenly know things a lot. Sorry about that. I'm trying to . . .well, I don't know what I'm trying to do, but it's hard trying to pretend like you haven't read the books and don't know exactly what's going to happen. Bleh. Yeah, Hermione strikes me as that type of person. I love having a Gryffindor hanging out with Slytherins!
DragonQueen: You'll find out along with everybody else. (smiles cryptically)
Tewks: Thank you.
Smileyouidiot: Thanks, you brightened my day.
Adenara Yatman: Good. Be happy.
Katrina: I'm sorry, I have no clue how they even got there. I would fix it if I knew how, but I don't.
MerlinHalliwell: Thanks, I like that particular plot twist too! Adds color to the story.
Ruined Emperor: Love your name. No questions answered! You have to read it yourself!
One morning in mid-December Hogwarts awoke (or rather, Blaise did) to find itself covered in feet of snow. The hyperactive girl had come running into the boys' dorm, squealing and yelling. Draco had shoved his pillow over his head, Cepheus had grinned sleepily and Harry had looked out the window. Crabbe and Goyle, who had been wandering around by themselves since Draco ditched them, had slept through it. The only other occupant of the room, Caelum Nott, had shot a glare at them all before turning over and falling back asleep.
No one could wait for the holidays to start; Blaise was even rubbing off on Harry. His friend had even managed to persuade him out of his dark corner. After all, the dungeons were always freezing; the nearer to the fire you got, the warmer. The worst place to be, however, was not the Slytherin common room, but Snape's classroom. Harry and Draco, who had adopted Cepheus into their work-group with Snape's permission, kept as close to the fire underneath their cauldrons as possible. Cepheus, whom the cold seemed to have no effect on, was the only student in the class who had no problem venturing out to get ingredients.
A week before term ended, they found out why Draco was so sullen. Professor Snape came into the common room and passed around a list of students who would be staying for the holidays. Harry, not keen on returning to the streets (he didn't even /think/ about the Dursleys), had signed up immediately. To his delight, Blaise and Cepheus were also staying (neither wanted to return to their families). Draco, though, explained angrily that his mother wanted him home. The Gryffindors had already signed the list, and Hermione's name wasn't on there either.
They met up with the Gryffindor girl every day in the library, to scour the books for any sign of Nicolas Flamel. How else would they find out what Snape was trying to steal? A ridiculous author's name or a silly book title would distract one of them every once in a while, and they would lapse into giggles, breaking the cold silence of the library. Madam Pince, the hawk- like librarian, always kicked them out after these sorts of episodes. She even kicked Harry out for looking at the Restricted Section on the last day before term ended.
Once the holidays had started, the common room was empty. Harry, Blaise, and Cepheus had it all to themselves. However, it felt very lonely, not having Draco to say sarcastic things, and not meeting up with Hermione to search the library or talk. They'd promised her they'd keep looking, but they quickly forgot all about Flamel in favor of the fun they were having. They sat right next to the fire and roasted anything they could find - marshmallows, chocolate bars (which melted right off the sticks into the fire), raspberries, you name it.
Cepheus, who had played wizard chess against Draco (who was the unofficial chess leader of Slytherin) and lost every game, started teaching Harry how to play. Harry wasn't much of a strategist, but eventually he got good enough to beat Cepheus and Blaise both. Cepheus deemed him worthy of challenging Draco.
On Christmas Eve, Harry, Blaise, and Cepheus brought down their blankets and pillows and settled down in front of the fire. They talked well into the night. When Harry finally did fall asleep, he was looking forward to the food and fun of the next day, not expecting any presents. However, upon waking up the next morning, he found a small pile of presents at the foot of his makeshift bed.
"Happy Christmas." Cepheus said sleepily as he woke.
"You, too," Harry replied, reaching forward and touching the pile of presents. "Look! I've got presents."
"PRESENTS!!!!!!!"
"Ow!" cried Harry and Cepheus, both covering their ears. Blaise had woken up.
Harry picked up the nearest present and opened the letter.
Dear Harry, it said in Hermione's neat script. I know how much you like /Quidditch Through The Ages/, so here's your own copy. Have a very happy Christmas!
Harry, eyes alight, opened the package. A brand new, gleaming copy of /Quidditch Through The Ages/ fell into his lap. He ran his hand over the cover.
Carefully placing the book on his pillow, he pulled over the next present. It was wrapped in thick brown paper. To Harry, From Hagrid, it said in the gamekeeper's untidy scrawl. The group had been visiting Hagrid more often, and Hagrid had grown rather fond of them. Opening it, Harry found a roughly cut wooden flute. He admired it for a moment, then blew in it. It sounded quite like an owl.
The next present was from Draco to the three of them. It contained a huge box of homemade peanut butter fudge and three boxes chock full of chocolate frogs. Harry, laughing, read Draco's letter out loud to Blaise and Cepheus.
"Harry, Blaise, and Cepheus,
"I told her not to do it! But no! 'We must show your friends hospitality, Draco!' Just know that I tried to make her not do it! It's really quite tasty, but really. Fudge? I feel like a Weasley.
"Have a happy Christmas, Draco."
From Cepheus, Harry received a huge container of The Three Broomsticks' best butterbeer mix (just add water!) and a book on self-defense. They shared a meaningful look.
From Blaise he got a standard wand holster. He was delighted with it, but said he'd put it on later. He wasn't keen on exposing his skin more than necessary.
He was delighted to see a small pile of presents for Sadie. She got a miniature wizard's hat (which she detested), a few boxes of rat and mouse flavor snake treats (which she loved), and a bird perch (which she liked curling up around).
Finally Harry only had two presents left. Even though Blaise and Cepheus had many more presents than he did, they'd gone through theirs a lot faster and had none left. So they watch Harry take the smaller one first.
A thin silver chain fell into his lap when he opened it. He picked it up, and a pendant fell into place.
"Wow!" said Cepheus.
'Wow' fit the pendant fairly well. On one side was a big, burly snake, mouth open, fangs gleaming. It was a poisonous green color, with black eyes and red slits for pupils. On the other side was a dragon, pure white, wings spread wide, teeth bared. Its eyes, too, were black, were red slits. The two creatures were intertwined, and right in the middle of the pendant was a single letter: S.
"Who gave /that/ to you?" Blaise breathed. Harry searched around the paper, but there wasn't any letter.
"No note." He said before tying the chain around his neck. The pendant fell in the middle of his chest.
"You look so beautiful, Harry!" Cepheus exclaimed, putting his hand over his heart and using the kind of voice Pansy Parkinson always spoke in.
Harry batted his eyelashes.
"Do you really think so?"
Blaise collapsed into a fit of giggles.
"One more!" Harry said, voice back to normal. He grabbed the last parcel and opened it.
Something fluid and silvery gray went slithering to the floor, where it lay in gleaming folds of fabric. Blaise gasped.
"I've heard of those!" she said in a hushed voice. "If that's what I think it is - they're unbelievably rare!"
"What is it?" Harry said uncertainly, picking it up. It felt strange to touch, like water woven into material.
"Put it on!" said Cepheus. "It's an invisibility cloak!"
Harry threw the cloak around his shoulders. Blaise and Cepheus yelled as one.
"It is!" Blaise yelped.
Harry looked down.
He couldn't see his feet.
"Where'd my feet go?" he said, panicked. Blaise collapsed into giggles again.
"You're invisible, Harry. That's why it's called an Invisibility Cloak."
Harry dashed over to the mirror and looked in. His head was suspended in midair. He pulled the hood over himself.
"I feel like a vampire." He said softly. Then, in a very quiet voice: "I veell drink your blood!"
"There's a note!" Blaise said suddenly, no longer giggling. Harry whirled around, taking the cloak off. "Whoa! Didn't see you there, Harry."
"Oh, ha." He said, picking up the note. Written in narrow, loopy writing he'd never seen before were the following words: 'James left this in my possession before he died. It is time it was given to you. Use it well. A Very Happy Christmas to you.'
There was no signature. Harry stared at the note.
"Who sent it to you?" Cepheus asked, admiring the cloak.
"There's . . . there's no name." He answered absently. He felt very strange. Did this cloak really belong to James Potter, his father? Who'd sent it?
"Weird . . ." Blaise muttered.
The three of them transferred their presents to their beds, Harry's mind clouded with thoughts of the cloak.
However, once he'd sat down for Christmas dinner, thoughts of the cloak were driven out of his mind to be replaced with thoughts of food. More food than he had ever seen in his life. A hundred fat roasted turkeys; mountains of roast and boiled potatoes; platters of chipolatas (A/N: what are those?); tureens of buttered peas; silver boats of thick, rich gravy and cranberry sauce - and stacks of wizard crackers every few feet along the table. Harry was particularly interested in these. They were nothing like the feeble muggle ones. Harry pulled a cracker with Blaise and it didn't just bang, it went off with a blast like a cannon and engulfed them all in a cloud of blue smoke, while from the inside exploded a real admiral's hat and several live, white mice. Up at the High Table, Dumbledore had swapped his pointed hat for a flowered bonnet and was chuckling merrily at a joke Professor Flitwick had just read him.
Flaming Christmas puddings had followed the turkey. Cepheus nearly broke his teeth on a silver sickle embedded in his slice. Harry watched Hagrid getting redder and redder in the face as he called for more wine, finally kissing McGonagall on the cheek. To Harry's amazement, the usually stern professor giggled and blushed, her hat lopsided.
When Harry finally left the table, he was laden down with a stack of things out of the crackers, including a pack of luminous, non-explodable balloons, a Grow-Your-Own-Warts kit, and his own new wizards chess set. The white mice had disappeared and Blaise voiced her opinion that they were probably Mrs. Norris' Christmas dinner.
Harry, Blaise, Cepheus, and the Weasley twins (who joined them of their own accord) spent a happy afternoon having a furious snowball fight on the grounds. At first it was purely non-magical, but after being hit in the face five times, Blaise resorted to magic.
Eventually, cold, wet, and gasping for breath, the Slytherins returned to the fire in their common room, where Harry broke in his new set by losing narrowly to Blaise.
After a short meal of turkey sandwiches, crumpets, trifle, and Christmas cake, all three of them felt too full and sleepy to do much before bed except chat about the day (Cepheus blatantly refused to call it a chat; he thought the word made it sound to girly until Blaise reminded him that she was a girl and she was in on the chat).
It had been Harry's best Christmas by far. Yet something had been nagging at the back of his mind all day. Not until he climbed into bed (they agreed that the common room floor was uncomfortable and so Blaise was sleeping in Caelum Nott's bed, much to her horror) was he free to think about the invisibility cloak and whoever had sent it.
Blaise and Cepheus, both too full of turkey and sweets and with nothing mysterious lurking the corners of their brains, fell asleep as soon as they hit their beds. Harry leaned over the side of his own bed and pulled the cloak out from under it.
James' . . . this had been his father's. He let the material flow over his hand, smoother than silk, lighter than air. Use it well, the note had said.
He had to try it, now. He slid out of bed and wrapped the cloak around himself. Looking down at his legs, he saw only moonlight and shadows. It was a very funny feeling.
Use it well.
Suddenly Harry felt wide-awake. All of Hogwarts was open to him in this cloak. Excitement flooded through him as he stood there in the dark and silence. He could anywhere in this, anywhere, and Filch would never know.
Blaise snored in her sleep. Harry studied her bed. Should he wake her? What about Cepheus? Something held him back - his father's cloak - he felt that this time - the first time - he wanted to use it alone.
He crept out of the dormitory, across the common room, and through the stone wall.
Where should he go? He stopped, his heart racing, and thought. Then it came to him. The Restricted Section in the library. He'd be able to read as long as he liked, as long as it took to find out who Flamel was. He set off, drawing the invisibility cloak tight around him as he walked.
The library was pitch black and very eerie. Harry lit a lamp to see his way along the shelves of books. The lamp looked like it was floating in midair, and even though Harry could see his arm supporting it, the sight gave him the creeps.
The Restricted Section was at the back of the library. Stepping carefully over the rope that separated these books from the others, he held up the lamp to read the titles.
They didn't tell him much. Their peeling, faded gold letters spelled words in languages Harry knew nothing of. Some had no title at all. One had a dark stain on it that looked horribly like blood. The hairs on the back of Harry's neck prickled. Maybe he was imagining it, maybe not, but he thought a faint whispering was coming from the books, as though they knew someone was there who shouldn't be.
He had to start somewhere. Setting the lamp down carefully on the floor, he looked along the bottom shelf for a book that might seem interesting. A large blood red volume with a silver serpent on the spine caught his eye. He pulled it out with difficulty, because it was very heavy, and, balancing it on his knee, let it fall open.
A piercing, blood-curdling shriek split the silence. The book was screaming! Harry snapped it shut, but the scream went on and on, one high, unbroken, ear-splitting note. He stumbled backward and knocked over the lamp, which went out at once. Panicking, hearing footsteps coming down the corridor outside, he stuffed the book back onto the shelf and ran for it. He passed Filch in the doorway; Filch's pale, wild eyes stared right through him, and Harry slipped under Filch's outstretched arm and streaked off up the corridor, the book's shrieks still ringing in his ears.
He came to a sudden halt in front of a very tall suit of armor. He hadn't paid attention to where he was going in his haste to leave the library. Perhaps because it was dark, he didn't recognize where he was at all. There was a suit of armor near the kitchens, he knew, but that was five floors below.
"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."
Harry felt the blood drain from his face. Wherever he was, Filch must know a shortcut, because his soft, greasy voice was getting nearer, and to his horror, it was Snape who replied, "The Restricted Section? They can't be far. We'll catch them."
Harry stood rooted to the spot as Filch and Snape came around the corner ahead. They couldn't see him, of course, but it was a narrow corridor and if they came much nearer they'd knock right into him - the cloak didn't stop him from being solid.
He backed away as quietly as he could. A door stood ajar to his left. It was his only hope. He squeezed through it, holding his breath, trying not to move it, and to his relief he managed to get inside the room without their noticing anything. They walked straight past, and Harry leaned against the wall, breathing deeply, listening to their footsteps dying away.
It was a few seconds before he noticed anything about the room he was standing in. It looked like an unused classroom. The dark shapes of desks and chairs were piled against the walls and there as an upturned wastepaper basket - but propped against the wall facing him was something that didn't look as if it belonged there, something that looked as if someone had put it there to keep it out of the way.
It was a magnificent mirror, as high as the ceiling, with an ornate gold frame, standing on two clawed feet. There was an inscription carved around the top: Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi.
His panic fading now that there was no sign of Filch and Snape, Harry moved closer to the mirror, wanting to look at himself and see no reflection again. He stepped in front of it.
He had to clap his hands over his mouth to keep himself from screaming. He whirled around. His heart was pounding far more furiously than when the book had screamed - for he had seen not only himself in the mirror, but a woman standing just behind him.
But the room was empty. Breathing very fast, he turned very slowly back to the mirror.
There he was, reflected in it, white and scared-looking, and there, reflected behind him, was a tall, pretty woman. Harry looked over his shoulder - but still, no one was there. Or was she invisible too? Was he in fact in a room with an invisible person and the mirror's trick was that it reflected both of them, invisible or not?
He looked in the mirror again. The woman standing right behind his reflection was smiling at him and waving. He reached out a hand and felt the air behind him. If she was really there he'd touch her, their reflections were so close together, but he felt only air - she and the others existed only in the mirror.
She was a very pretty woman. She had dark red hair and her eyes - her eyes are just like mine, Harry thought, edging a little closer to the glass. Bright green - exactly the same shape, but then he noticed that she was crying; smiling, but crying at the same time.
Harry was so close to the mirror now that his nose was nearly touching that of his reflection.
"Mum?" he whispered, so softly that even he barely heard it.
She just looked at him, smiling. Harry scrutinized her face; he looked a lot like her.
She smiled at Harry and he looked hungrily back at her, his hands pressed flat against the glass as though he was hoping he could fall right through and reach her. He had a powerful kind of ache inside him: half joy, half terrible sadness.
How long he stood there, he didn't know. The reflection did not fade and he looked and looked until a distant noise brought him back to his senses. He couldn't stay here, he had to find his way back to bed. He tore his gaze from his mother's eyes, whispered, "I'll come back," and hurried from the room.
"You could've woken us!" Blaise grumbled.
"You two can come tonight. I want to show you the mirror."
"I'd like to see your family," Cepheus said.
"Yeah! Me too!" Blaise put in. Harry grinned.
"Your families will be interesting."
"No they won't," said Blaise at once. "Mine's just my mum, Brayden, and me."
"Who's Brayden?" Harry asked curiously.
"My brother. He's just out of Hogwarts."
Harry nodded. He looked at Cepheus.
"I have a mum, a dad, and two sisters."
Blaise snorted suddenly.
"Yeah; Lyra and Lynx. I remember them."
Cepheus grinned at her. "You mean from the time they tricked you into believing there was a mirror where there wasn't and that you didn't have a reflection?"
"Those were the days," Blaise said a tad dreamily.
* * *
What Harry worried about most was that he might not be able to find the room again. Blaise and Cepheus had joined him under the cloak, and moving became a bit of an issue. The three of them tried retracing his steps from the library for more than an hour.
"I'm cold," Blaise said, shivering. "Can we go back?"
"No!" Harry hissed. "I know it's here."
And Harry spotted the door.
"It's here!"
They pushed the door open. Harry dropped his cloak from his shoulders and sprinted for the mirror.
There she was. His mother, fiery hair draped over her shoulders, green eyes shining, beamed at him.
"See?" Harry whispered, in an awe-inspired voice.
"Um . . . Harry? I can't see anything." Blaise said, sounding worried.
"Look! Look at her . . . that's my mother!"
"Harry we only see the three of us." Cepheus said quietly.
"Here, stand where I am, look in properly."
Harry stepped aside, but with Cepheus in front of the mirror, he couldn't see his mother any more, only his friend. Cepheus, though, was staring open- mouthed at his reflection. Suddenly he jerked up his sleeve.
The Mark shone eerily in the moonlight. Cepheus' face contorted in confusion.
"What? What do you see?" Harry asked.
"Me," said Cepheus in amazement. "But . . . but I don't have the Mark . . . it's just bare skin where it ought to be . . . what . . . what is this mirror?"
"I don't know." Harry muttered. "I don't know."
"Can . . . can I try it?" said a very small voice. Harry looked at Blaise. She was trembling a little and her face was pale. Cepheus moved out of the way and she stepped forward. She froze in shock.
"What?" Cepheus whispered.
"Dad . . ." said Blaise in a choked voice. "Daddy . . ."
Cepheus gasped.
Harry stared.
"Daddy . . . Daddy . . ." Blaise whispered, tears forming in her eyes. "Daddy . . ." she reached a hand out but only touched the mirror's surface.
"You see your mum, I see myself minus the Mark, Blaise sees her dad . . ." Cepheus muttered under his breath. "What does this mirror do?"
"The question is," Harry said, "why do I only see my mum? Why not my dad?"
"I don't know . . ."
A noise in the corridor made them look up.
Harry snatched the invisibility cloak and threw it over his shoulders. He grabbed Cepheus and the two of them tore Blaise away from the mirror. Just as the cloak fell over Blaise, a pair of luminous eyes followed by a scruffy body peered round the door. Harry, Blaise, and Cepheus stood still, thinking the same thought - could Mrs. Norris see through the cloak? After several minutes of tense silence, the cat turned and walked away.
"I bet she's gone for Filch. We have to go," Harry said and they started out of the room.
* * *
The snow hadn't melted the next morning.
"Want to play chess, Harry?" Cepheus asked gamely. Harry shook his head, thoughts dwelling on his mother and the mirror.
"Why don't we go and visit Hagrid?" Blaise said.
"No," Harry said, a bit irritated.
"I know what you're are thinking about. Let's not go back to the mirror tonight."
Harry looked up at Cepheus. "Why not?"
"I have a bad feeling about it, that's why."
But Harry only had one thought in his mind: his mother. He was going back to the mirror and Cepheus wasn't going to stop him.
The third night he found his way more quickly than before. He was so focused on his goal that he forgot to walk quietly; it was a miracle no one caught him.
And there was his mother, smiling widely, brushing her dark red hair out of her face. Nothing was stopping him from seeing his mother. Nothing.
Except -
"So - back again, Harry?"
Harry whirled around, mouth dry, wand drawn. There, sitting on one of the dusty desks, was Albus Dumbledore. He must have walked straight past the Headmaster, too eager to see his mother to care.
"I - I didn't -" Harry stuttered, lowering his wand.
"Odd how nearsighted being invisible can make you." To Harry's relief, Dumbledore was smiling. "So, you have discovered the delights of the Mirror of Erised."
He had slipped off the desk and was standing next to Harry. Harry furrowed his brow.
"I didn't know it was called that."
"But I expect you've realized by now what it does."
"It shows me my mother." Harry tried to swallow past the lump in his throat. He turned and looked at his mother's smiling face.
"It also showed Miss Zabini her father and Mr. Major his reflection without his Mark."
Harry gaped at him.
"I need no cloak to become invisible, Harry," said Dumbledore gently. "Can you think what the mirror shows us?"
Harry looked into his mother's eyes.
"I . . . I've heard of how Cepheus sort of wallowed in self-pity after he got the Mark . . . so to see himself without it . . . and Blaise's mother killed her father at one of the 'parties' . . . Voldemort killed my mother . . . Does it show us what we want to see?" Harry concluded, looking to Dumbledore. To his surprise, Dumbledore was beaming at him.
"Very good, Harry, very good. This mirror shows us the deepest, darkest desire of our hearts. You, who have never known your mother, see her beside you. Cepheus Major, who has never wanted the Mark, sees himself without it. And Blaise Zabini, who has always loved her father, sees him alive again. However, this mirror gives us neither knowledge nor truth. Men have wasted away before it, entranced by what they have seen, or driven mad, not knowing if what they see is real.
"The mirror will be moved to a new home tomorrow, Harry. I ask you not to look 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, Harry. Now, why don't you put that admirable cloak back on and hop off to bed?"
Harry nodded, picking up the cloak.
"Professor? Can . . . can I ask you something?"
"Obviously, as you've just done so." Dumbledore smiled. "You may ask me one more thing though."
"What do you see when you look in the mirror?"
"I? I see myself holding a pair of thick, woolen socks."
Harry stared at him.
"One can never have enough socks," Dumbledore said. "Another Christmas has come and gone and I didn't get a single pair. People insist on giving me books."
It was only when he was back in bed that it struck Harry that Dumbledore might not have been quite truthful. But then, Harry thought as he watched moonlight illuminating the faces of his friends, it was a very personal question.
A/N: OK people this took forever to get out, but hey! It's ten pages. This is good for me. More soon. And you guys if you want to know when each chapter comes out, please leave me your email address in a review so I can send you a link.
Oh by the way one of my friends posted a story recently and isn't getting any reviews; it's a neat story too. Maybe you could give her a hand and read it? Don't tell her I told you too of course. Her log-in name is LyraAndCassiopia. Her story is called Phoenix Song. Please leave her a nice review?
Reviews:
Lord Master Omega: Thanks.
DaBear: Thanks!
Boomerang-chan: Sorry, I felt I had to make up for the wait. Hehe!
Tigerlily: I know, its stupid. Yeah, I like Cepheus; he's a cool guy.
Desert Fox: I hate you. Leave me alone before I blow up at you.
Ryra Skorka: Sorry, I didn't make the formatting that way! It's ff.net's fault! Blame it on them!
Muggle Girl: :: Blushes a lot :: Thanks! I was waiting for SOMEone to comment on the effort I put in to being witty. Yeah, I love those too! You can keep reading and reading and reading and . . . anyway . . . Yeah, Harry seems to suddenly know things a lot. Sorry about that. I'm trying to . . .well, I don't know what I'm trying to do, but it's hard trying to pretend like you haven't read the books and don't know exactly what's going to happen. Bleh. Yeah, Hermione strikes me as that type of person. I love having a Gryffindor hanging out with Slytherins!
DragonQueen: You'll find out along with everybody else. (smiles cryptically)
Tewks: Thank you.
Smileyouidiot: Thanks, you brightened my day.
Adenara Yatman: Good. Be happy.
Katrina: I'm sorry, I have no clue how they even got there. I would fix it if I knew how, but I don't.
MerlinHalliwell: Thanks, I like that particular plot twist too! Adds color to the story.
Ruined Emperor: Love your name. No questions answered! You have to read it yourself!