CHAPTER SEVENTEEN: The Mirror and the Stone

He was her father; there was no mistaking it. She could almost feel his hand on her shoulder…

She looked up, but no one was there.

She turned to Harry, who was watching her from the side of the mirror with concern. "What is it?" he asked her softly. "What do you see?"

"Come on," she said, wiping a tear from her eye and stepping away from the mirror. "Tell me what you see."

She watched with breath held as Harry stepped up to the mirror and scanned his reflection. His expression shifted to a similar look to what she herself had been wearing, only… less hopeful. More sad.

"It's my parents," he whispered, peeling his eyes away from them to look at her. "Did you see them, too?"

His parents? But, if he saw them and she saw her father…

She frowned and shook her head, stepping forward to join him. This time, she didn't see her father or Harry's parents; all she saw was the two of them.

"It must be different—what each person sees," she said. "And when it's more than one person, they see nothing."

"What did you see?"

She bit her lip, feeling silly saying it out loud without ever actually having seen her father. "Could you…?"

Harry nodded, stepping away from the mirror.

Ellie scanned the reflection again. This time, she spoke to the man who looked back at her. "Are you… Andrew?" she whispered.

His gray eyes looked sad as he shook his head.

"But…" She bit harder on her lip. "You are my father?"

This time, he nodded.

She had already known the name was a lie, she mused grimly. She only wished his reflection could speak so that she might learn the real one.

He didn't look evil. He looked… gentle. Kind.

All I know is that he committed unforgivable acts in service of the Dark Lord, her mother had written her. But this didn't look like a man who was capable of any such thing.

"I don't like it," she finally said to Harry, peeling her gaze away from her father. "Why is it here?"

"You don't like it?" Harry repeated, dumbfounded. "It's the most amazing thing I've ever seen."

"Well, not me. What's the point? It's not real. My dad's locked up in Azkaban, and your parents are dead."

"But…" Harry looked pained. She felt a pang of guilt as she realized how desperately Harry wished it was real.

"I'm sorry," she said more gently. "I wish it was real, too."


When they finally returned to the common room, the twins were both waiting for them, and Fred looked… to say the least, frantic.

"What the bloody hell took you so long?" he demanded. Behind him, George sat patiently on the couch, looking amused, as his twin paced. "You've been gone for hours!"

Ellie glanced at Harry, who looked about as amused as George. "Sorry, mate," said Harry. "Didn't realize she had a curfew."

George and Ellie both snickered at that, but were instantly silenced by Fred's glare. Ellie, sensing that the time for jokes was over, told Harry gently, "I'll fill him in. You go ahead."

Harry nodded, shooting Fred one last, apologetic look before heading up the stairs.

"We checked the Marauder's Map," George explained to Ellie once they were alone. "Saw that you were nowhere near the library. Got a bit worried."

Clearly that was an understatement, at least on Fred's part. She decided to get on with it already; it might be the only thing he'd forgive. "I saw my dad."

He gave a bit of a start, expression turning from angry to confused. "You… what?"

"My dad," she repeated. "A… reflection of him, in some sort of magic mirror. He looked… clean. Happy. Healthy."

"Then it can't have been him as he is now," George told her grimly. "Sorry, El, but nobody looks like that in Azkaban."

Her jaw tightened at that. "I know. But it was a version of him. And he looked… kind. Innocent. Not like a murderer."

Both twins stared silently at her for several seconds. Finally, Fred asked her softly, "D'you really reckon it's possible? That he was… I don't know… framed?"

"I don't know," she admitted. "But I can't rule it out until I find out who he really is—and what, exactly, they think he did."

Fred nodded grimly. "I get it. Just… don't go running off without us again, okay? If we can't fit under the cloak, we'll find another way."

She let herself smile at that. "Deal."

"Oh, and by the way—Happy New Year."


Fred and George asked Ellie constantly over the next few days to take her to the room with the mirror, but she was reluctant to return. As much as she wanted to see her father again, she knew it would only make her want to find him more, and she was so far from answers regarding him, the thought only depressed her. Besides, what if he was a murderer? She should want nothing to do with him, right?

The rest of the Hogwarts students arrived on Saturday, all well-rested and excited to have seen their families.

"It was brilliant," Hermione told Ellie, Ron, and Harry enthusiastically as they greeted her out front. "Telling my parents about all the magic I've learned, and seeing how different the Muggle world seems now… incredible."

"That's great, Hermione," said Ellie with an easy smile. "We had some fun here, too."

"I want to hear all about it," Hermione said eagerly. "Shall we head to the common room?"

They headed up to the Gryffindor Tower, where they found a corner of the room out of earshot of the others. Ellie glanced around for Fred and George, but they must have been upstairs or off troublemaking, because she didn't see them.

"We found out that the Philosopher's Stone is a small, ruby-red rock that makes its owner immortal," Harry explained to Hermione in a hushed voice.

Hermione nodded thoughtfully. "That explains why it's so well-guarded. But what would Snape want with something like that?"

"Immortality?" suggested Ron with a bit of a sarcastic tone.

"I said the same thing," Ellie told Hermione, ignoring Ron. "It seems like he might be working with, or for, someone. But we don't know who."

"That's not all," added Harry. "We found a mirror that shows us… things."

"Not just things," said Ron eagerly. "Great things. I was Quidditch Captain and Head Boy."

Ellie inferred that Harry had taken Ron back to the Mirror since she went with him. She didn't mind the lack of invite; she knew that seeing her father's reflection again would only torture her.

Hermione glanced at Harry, brown eyes looking sympathetic. "You saw your parents, didn't you?"

Harry nodded. Hermione glanced then to Ellie and asked, "Your dad?"

Ellie was surprised by that assumption; she didn't recall ever having spoken to Hermione about her father. "Am I that obvious?"

"Ron and I are both lucky enough to have full sets of parents," Hermione told her gently. "But we see in the two of you how hard it is not to."


The next evening, Ellie was playing a round of poker with Fred and George by the fire when she spotted something in Neville's hand: a Nicholas Flamel card.

"Neville!" Ellie said eagerly, setting down her cards and heading over to him. "Do you know much about him—that wizard on your card?"

Neville glanced down at the card in his hand, looking bewildered that Ellie was talking to him. "I—er—well—"

"Blimey, she doesn't bite, mate," teased George as he and Fred came over to join them. "Aren't you in the same class?"

Ellie felt a pang of guilt at that as Neville's cheeks turned pink. She chatted with Neville now and again in class, but the only real interaction they'd had was the day she tried—and mostly failed—to save him from his broomstick mishap.

"He's friends with Professor Dumbledore," Neville finally said, still blushing deeply. "Flamel, I mean. They experimented together during their early years."

"Experimented," Ellie repeated thoughtfully, glancing at the twins. George had mentioned something about this, too, but hadn't known the name of Dumbledore's partner.

"They say he's ancient, though," added Neville. "Hundreds of years. Not sure how, exactly, but can't imagine he's doing well these days."

Ellie and the twins all chuckled at that; they, of course, knew exactly how Flamel could get away with being so old. "Thanks, Neville," she told him honestly. "Hey—fancy a game of poker?"

He blinked, looking rather flummoxed. "Poker? I'm not sure I know how."

"Neither did these two, before I taught them," she said cheerfully. "C'mon—I'll show you."

"More like, she'll rob you blind," Fred warned Neville. "Keep your Knuts close, mate, and your Sickles closer."


I really don't have enough of sweet Neville in this story - need to work on that! We'll be on to the start of spring term in the next chapter, so make sure you catch it - and please remember to review if you're enjoying the story. Thanks for reading!