Chapter 34: Mind Over Matter

Exams had finished and Harry walked with trepidation towards the Great Hall and his last meal of the year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. As it had been in his fourth year, the hall was decorated entirely in black. The tapestries, the linens, the students' and staffs' robes, even the napkins had put on a dark shroud of grief in remembrance and respect to the late headmaster.

He sat down and held Ginny's hand under the table as they somberly shoved their dinner around their plates, none of it making it to their stomachs. He exchanged brief, but hollow smiles with students around the hall in an attempt to reassure them that he was still there and still fighting, every moment was for the destruction of Lord Voldemort. Ginny gave his hand a comforting squeeze and Harry smiled softly at her in thanks before he pushed his plate away from him, giving it up as a bad job.

The students and staff had long since given up the pretense of eating the end of year feast before Headmistress McGonagall rose from her seat at the center of the staff table and softly cleared her throat. Those that had been whispering softly throughout the hall stopped immediately and turned their blank, haunted faces towards their new head in hopes of hearing a consoling speech that would help ease their pain. Minerva McGonagall stood tall, reigning supremely over the school at the head table- supreme, but silent. Several times she opened her mouth and made an attempt to speak, but to no avail. So many things she wanted to say, so many things her pupils needed to hear- and she could not deliver. With a gasp she choked back a sob, sank back into her chair and cradled her head in her hands.

The students remained silent, but stared at one another around the hall. Their world was falling apart before their very eyes until Cho Chang, in her last act as Head Girl, stood from her place at the Ravenclaw table, raised her glass and said softly, yet firmly, "To Albus Dumbledore; the greatest wizard ever known."

The school rose en masse and drank to their fallen leader.

After the scraping of benches died down and the school was seated once more, their pale faces looking even more somber than before, a lone figure rose silently from his seat and walked to the front of the hall. So softly he treaded that no one noticed his movement until he began to speak. Minerva McGonagall raised her head once again from her hands and stared at the sight before her. Harry Potter stood in front of the staff table, his face firm, his expression resolved, and his frame wrought with determination as he addressed the hall.

"Albus Dumbledore may have been the greatest wizard in the world, this is true, but to me he was more than that. Albus was my friend. And if he were here right now, I am sure he would be gravely disappointed in us all. He would not want us to sit here in our chairs and shrink away from the dangers ahead of us."No. He would want us to rise up, band together, and stand up to the threat that has burned out the hope in the wizarding world, much like an uncontained fire, since before most of us were born. Albus Dumbledore would want us to take down Lord Voldemort for good.
"Over the past few years, how many of us have been made orphans by the monster that seeks to rule us? How many of us have lost loved ones and friends to the creatures that do Tom Riddle's bidding? How many people have been tortured, blackmailed, and threatened into his service? HOW MUCH LONGER will we step aside and stand idly by while he takes those that we hold closest to our hearts away from us?
"This year we've put our blood, sweat, and tears into preparing ourselves to defend an attack by Lord Voldemort. Never again, I say. I pledge that now we put our efforts into preparing ourselves for the threat that we will pose to Lord Voldemort. I'm tired of playing defense against this "Lord". It's time we switched to offense. It's time he feared our coming instead of us fearing his.
"You stood behind Dumbledore and all that he fought for. Now, I ask you to stand beside ME and help me fight for what we all deserve- a world where we can not simply exist, but LIVE! Help me fight for a world where we can raise our children out from underneath a tyrant's thumb. Who is with me?"

There was a moment of stunned silence before a majority of the school and the entirety of staff scrambled to its feet and cheered Harry's speech loud enough to rattle the roof of the Great Hall, while some few others stood from their seats and marched out in defiance of Harry and all he stood for. But he was past caring. If those that wouldn't stand with him had left, he was free to speak more plainly than he would have been had they stayed.

"Then let the offense begin!" Harry cried and then turned to Professor McGonagall. "Professor, I know of no better place to have everyone together than here at Hogwarts. Will you allow the school to remain open to those who wish to remain this summer in order to prepare for the final fight against the tyrant that is Tom Marvolo Riddle?"

Minerva nodded to him and then addressed the school at large. "Those students who are of age may stay here instead of riding the train home tomorrow. All others that wish to remain behind may either have their parents send permission by tomorrow morning's post or may go home and return when able to provide documented permission. Hogwarts will be home to anyone who wishes to aid us in thwarting… Tom Riddle." She gave Harry a small smile and then dismissed the throng of students to rush off and either pack or send post to their parents.

After the Hogwarts Express left from Hogsmeade there were several students left, though not as many as Harry had initially thought. In the end, he conceded it didn't matter- those that had stayed behind would be the most loyal he could ask for. Sanguine had been sent with a letter to the Burrow and returned with an almost immediate reply that allowed Ginny to stay. Ginny knew that even though she was considered to be an adult by wizard law since she was married, she still wanted the backing of her parents in such a bold decision. It wasn't long before the Order of the Phoenix would join the army at Hogwarts any way.

When those that remained had returned from sending the others off at the station, they sat down together at one long table in the center of the hall for tea, chatting with renewed vigor about battle tactics, strategies, and defense mechanisms. Harry sat with Ginny, Ron, Neville, Luna, and Hermione and smiled, gazing around the table and giving little notice to eating his dinner. He was finally doing something. The battle between himself and Voldemort was now on his own terms.

When supper was finished, all the students made their way to the Ravenclaw dormitory, which was closest to the Great Hall where they would have their morning and evening meetings. After everyone had settled in for the night in his or her new room, Harry found he couldn't sleep. Gathering his slippers and dressing gown, he left what had been christened "the barracks" and let his feet carry him on his usual route around the castle's deserted corridors. He wandered past the Room of Requirement, but found that he didn't feel quite like entering it this evening. Instead, he wandered past the dozing portrait of the Fat Lady and over several corridors to the painting of a wizened old man organizing a card catalogue.

"Excuse me, kind sir?" Harry asked pleasantly. "Where is the library?"

The man smiled and replied, as was customary, "Why, right this way, my good man."

Harry nodded politely and walked along the darkened corridor to the next painting behind which the library was hidden, spoke the password, and sat on the rough rock seat as the painting spun around.

But Harry wasn't here to research tonight. This evening, he just wanted to look. He had loved Albus' library from the moment he had set foot in it and wanted to admire the vast collection that resided there. Books and treasures and fond memories of afternoons he had spent here with his wife and friends were every which way he turned. Three times Harry had slowly circled the library when a door suddenly appeared next to the bookshelf that hid the secret stairway into the headmaster's office. Harry walked towards it and then opened the door silently, wondering what he might find inside considering that he had been in this library many times before and never come across it.

He found himself in a spacious office with a mahogany desk, leather armchair, quills, parchment, books, small couch, and large armoire at the far wall. There were small tables with even smaller magical instruments, as well as photographs, but Harry knew he could come back and examine them later. Proceeding curiously to the back of the office, Harry opened the ornate piece of furniture and let out an audible gasp at first, the increased internal space on the inside of the armoire, and second, what stood behind its doors.

The Mirror of Erised.

A small, hidden door opened on the side of the armoire and a brilliant, shimmering light drew Harry's attention away from the mirror he hadn't seen in five years. A Pensieve was beckoning him from the hidden compartment, and Harry immediately recognized it as belonging to Dumbledore. He gazed thoughtfully at the Mirror and then plunged himself face first into the basin, feeling the headmaster's memories swirl around him as he softly fell to the floor and stood up to see a slightly younger, but still grey haired Albus Dumbledore standing next to him. Harry estimated that this memory couldn't have been from more than fifty years ago, as Albus still had the lightning shaped scar on his forehead.

He watched as his friend approached the Mirror with keen interest and slight apprehension, much like Harry himself had when he had discovered it for the first time. Harry stood beside Albus as he looked into the Mirror, and watched the old man's face as the glass showed him the deepest desire of his heart. Slowly, Albus Dumbledore smiled. But something was amiss- it had to have been the saddest smile Harry had ever seen. He watched, transfixed, as a single tear rolled down the headmaster's cheek, before the memory blurred and Harry felt himself being pulled away.

Slowly, the office room came back into focus and Harry saw a soft, suede bound book standing against the wall of the hidden compartment in the armoire that he hadn't noticed before. Harry looked around almost guiltily before he opened the book and watched as the pages magically fell open to an entry dated from the 23rd of November 1981.

Dear Journal,

I discovered the most curious thing this past summer holiday. A certain Mirror- the Mirror of Erised- that shows one whatever the deepest desire of his or her heart may be. At first I was greatly against approaching this Mirror for I feared that once I were to discover my heart's true desire I might go mad with wondering whether or not it were achievable. But, alas, curiosity won out after everything that has happened in the past month. Last night I approached the Mirror and discovered something I think is like to haunt me until my dying day…

Not a month has passed since I left Lily and James' son, Harry, on his relatives' doorstep in Surrey. I've watched the Muggles every possible moment since. I knew I was taking a risk leaving young Harry with them after all the stories I had heard from James and Lily about her Muggle family, but I thought that surely no Muggle could be as bad as she had described.

I was wrong.

I have never seen a worse pair of human beings than Petunia and Vernon Dursley, and one can only shudder to think what their own son will turn out like under their care, much less how poor Harry will behave. Despite everything, the last Potter has remained the most sweetly dispositioned baby I have ever met.

Many times I have thought about going back on my decision and removing Harry from that horrid place and housing him in the wizarding world. Even more times I have thought about taking him into my own care. But, alas, despite the joy that watching Harry grow up under my own hand would bring me, the probability of disaster weighs on me even more. What if I couldn't protect him? Learned as I may be, and though I would wholly devote my life to him, I cannot provide the soundproof protection that the charm using his mother's blood through her Muggle sister can. As much as it makes my heart bleed to leave young Harry with those people- if one can even consider them to be human- it would give my conscience an even greater heartache to know that I could have protected him by leaving him there. If I were to take him into my own home and then he were to be killed due to a lapse in my judgment… No. Even leaving him to live with the Muggles must be better than that.

Even though I am at the Dursley residence at every spare moment, Harry can have no knowledge of me for fear that it might alert the wrong people and put him in danger. I either light on his bedside in my Animagus form (Petunia has made his sad excuse for a cradle from a pulled out dresser drawer), or I stand watch over him by night whilst invisible. Many times he cries in the night and no one will attend to him. Sometimes Petunia will come in and shush him harshly, but she never holds and comforts him the way a mother should. The way a mother would. Sometimes I buzz around his head in loops to entertain him and keep him quiet, but lately he has just been silent. I think he knows that he has to fend for himself and that crying will only get him reprimanded. My heart aches at the thought of leaving Harry where he will never know what love feels like. Even worse, I know he will certainly never love ME- the one who forced him to live in such an awful place. The one who will have forced him to grow up in a house where no one will love him… at least, no one but a random bumble bee that often lights out of sight on the windowsill. Yes, I know now that I have come to love Harry as if he really were my own son, although I would never admit it until last night.

Yes, last night I finally approached the Mirror of Erised and gazed in at what was my heart's true desire. And what did I see? Did I see unlimited prosperity, omnipotence, or immortality? No. I saw myself standing with a young boy, and we are talking and laughing and hugging one another. Sometimes we are flying a kite, or I am reading him stories while I tuck him into bed. I can see that my Erised reflection loves this boy, and he loves me. I know instantly that we are father and son! Could this be my desire? Could it be that all this time I am devoting to Harry Potter stems from my own secret desire to become a father? I examined the Mirror for hours before I could no longer ignore the sign that was staring me blatantly in the face. This boy in the Mirror, the one that loves me like a father, has a lightning shaped scar on his forehead. My 'son' in the Mirror is Harry Potter.

It seems that my deepest desire is to have a boy, the boy I have condemned to a life of servitude and hatred, love me. In the end, the Mirror has not made me mad- it has made me sad. For I know that if I were Harry, I could never love me. I could never care for or even respect the man who forced me to grow up where I was hated and despised. But I shall try to get him to love me, no, to even care for me at all as a wizard…as a person…

If I accomplish anything in my life, it will be to have Harry Potter forgive me for what I have done.

But, in the meantime… I have lesson plans from the professors to review and meetings to prepare for tomorrow morning. It will be a long night and it is rather cold in my secret little office, so I do believe I shall put on some wool socks before I begin my work for the evening.

Albus

Harry smiled as he let the journal fall closed in his lap. All this time he had wondered where the Mirror of Erised had went, and it had been near him all along. Slowly, he stood up and made his way back to the barracks and his bed with Ginny. He stepped into their private chamber (what was normally the first year Ravenclaw boys' dormitory during the school term) and shivered as he removed his slippers and dressing gown. Without thinking Harry went to his dresser, removed a certain item of clothing, and put it on before he climbed into bed.

"Whergo, Harry?" Ginny mumbled sleepily.

"Just getting some wool socks, love," he answered as he kissed her goodnight. He smiled as he realized she was already asleep again, so he wrestled his pillow back from her and settled in for a pensive night.

"…Wool socks, indeed."