The next month passed without much progress in terms of solving the mystery of the three-headed dog. Apparently, Hagrid let slip a name— Nicholas Flamel— but that wasn't much help as none of the four recognized the name at all. Lucy consulted her Hufflepuff friends, but they didn't have any idea either. She didn't dare ask Anthony in fear that he might tell Daisy, who she knew wouldn't approve of Lucy's scheme.

Hogwarts in the winter was a wonderful sight. The lake had frozen over, and the Forbidden Forest looked so lovely coated in snow that it almost felt welcoming; so much so that Hagrid had to chase her and Megan away from there more times than anyone would care to admit. Despite how whimsical the castle made her feel, she couldn't ignore the bitter cold that lingered throughout the corridors. The dungeons were particularly bad, and often Lucy's teeth were chattering too much to pay attention to Snape's instructions.

Despite how unbearably cold the dungeons were, Lucy waited outside Professor Snape's classroom for her Gryffindor friends to resurface. Professor Sprout held sympathy for her freezing Hufflepuffs and let them go halfway through class to warm up in the Great Hall, so Lucy had plenty of time to meet her friends for their break.

The Slytherins and Gryffindors filed out of Potions class and Lucy kept pace with Harry, laughing as he told her about the Weasley twins' recent excursion. Apparently, they'd enchanted snowballs to follow Quirrell around and bounce off the back of his turban. She was still suspicious of the man, so she'd have to thank Fred and George for this one.

Of course, a peaceful conversation couldn't last for long.

"I do feel sorry," Draco Malfoy said loudly to Crabbe, "for all those people who have to stay at Hogwarts for Christmas because they're not wanted at home."

At once, Lucy felt Harry tense up, and she felt herself go stiff too. Last week, Professor McGonagall passed around a list for the students who would be staying at Hogwarts during Christmas break. She and Harry had signed up right away. She didn't even want to think about going back to Wool's Orphanage— the thought was almost unbearable.

"Would it kill you to be nice for one day, Malfoy?" Lucy snapped at him. She couldn't believe he didn't have enough decency to leave other peoples' home lives alone, especially when he had clearly grown up in luxury. The thought made her want to punch him.

"It might," Malfoy retorted. "You're right, I suppose I could have rephrased. I feel sorry for anyone who's not wanted at home or whodon't even have a home."

Lucy felt her veins go cold. For once, she was too hurt to respond.

Ron glowered at the platinum blonde. "Shove off, Malfoy. Go chase your reflection or something," he growled, clenching his fists.

Malfoy only grinned smugly as he turned the corner to the Slytherin common room. The four walked quietly, neither Ron nor Harry knowing what to say.

Hermione nudged Lucy in the side gently and gave her a small smile. "Ron and his brothers are staying over Christmas, too. Malfoy may have a manor, but I've noticed he doesn't have half as many real friends as we have. He's really the unfortunate one."

Despite herself, Lucy smiled back. "If only you were staying too, Hermione. Then it'd be a real party. We could set someone on fire again."

"Oh, are you ever going to let that go?"

"Not until you perform some other hideous deed on Professor Snape, no."

"Sadly, that's more likely than you'd think."

The quartet arrived at the Great Hall and separated to their respective tables. Lucy rather enjoyed her meals with the Hufflepuffs; Cedric and Anthony bickered to no end about everything, leaving Daisy to try to defuse their argument, which always ended up in yet another argument between her and Anthony.

"You look mighty glum, little duck," Anthony remarked as Lucy took her seat next to Megan. "What happened?"

She briefly recounted what Malfoy had said. Immediately, Anthony's gaze went dark and he glared at the entrance, waiting for the platinum prat to appear.

"Oh, he'll pay for that," Anthony swore. "Picking on one of my cubs? I don't think so."

"That was super rude of him," Megan agreed with a frown. "But you shouldn't hex him. Wayne and I should beat him up!"

"That's hardly a fair fight," Wayne pointed out. "He's up against you already, adding me to the picture is just even crueler."

"Megan is partially right," said Cedric. "You can't hex a first year, but you also shouldn't get into fights."

"Sounds like someone's a coward," Anthony coughed.

"I am not, I'm just saying, you're fifteen and he's eleven! It's bullying!"

"What he said to MY LITTLE BADGER is bullying, you troll's toenail."

"Now that's just rude."

Anthony and Cedric spiraled deeper into their argument of the day, both completely missing Malfoy's entrance. However, Susan did not. She had overheard the entire conversation and right as Malfoy sat down at the Slytherin table, she muttered a spell under her breath. A jet of neon color shot out of her wand and turned Malfoy's precious blonde hair a putrid yellow color. At first, he didn't notice until Millicent Bulstrode started pointing and laughing at him.

Malfoy pulled a strand of hair in front of his eyes, and his jaw dropped in pure horror. He hurried out of the Great Hall with his goons and Pansy Parkinson on his heels.

"Susan," Daisy said, trying and failing to hide her smile, "That was a fine use of the Hair-Bringer's Hex. Where did you learn that?"

"My aunt," said Susan casually, "If Malfoy likes to talk about peoples' home lives so much, I thought he deserved a hairstyle to suit his personality."

"Your stylistic vision is simply genius," Anthony laughed. "I didn't know you were so spiteful."

"Speaking as an orphan myself, Malfoy has no right to say such things," Susan said firmly. Anthony arched an eyebrow, and Lucy was surprised to see how assertive the usually bashful first year was being. "Lord Voldemort killed my entire family, except my aunt Amy. People like Malfoy have no right to look down on people like myself or Megan or Lucy when everything's been handed to him on a silver platter."

"Truer words have never been spoken!" Anthony declared. He wrapped Susan in a side hug, "You're a true Hufflepuff, Suze. Helga's smiling down on you!"

"Hear, hear!" Cedric said.

The holiday break came in short order, but the beginning wasn't as pleasant as Lucy hoped it would be. She was the only Hufflepuff who stayed behind that year and being all by herself in the Hufflepuff burrow was rather lonesome. As cozy as the common room usually was, she felt a little chilled being so alone. This is mind, she decided she'd be better off moving in with Ron and Harry for the holidays. Their dorm room was empty aside from the two of them and none of the other Gryffindors were snitches.

Once Lucy made the move, she felt much happier. She watched Harry and Ron play wizard chess, which was a sight to behold. Ron tried teaching her, but she kept making friendly conversation with Ron's chess pieces so that they refused to go against her. Lucy was becoming emotionally attached to the chess pieces, too, and was a bit emotional whenever Ron obliterated one.

"They're not real, Lucy!" Ron said, exasperated as Lucy mourned her fallen bishop.

"They're plenty real to me, Ronald," Lucy said somberly. She took off her wizard hat in respect, and her chess pieces followed suit.

"Okay, this is getting too sad to finish. I forfeit."

That was how all of their matches went.

Christmas Eve, Lucy fell asleep in Dean's bunk (he was the cleanest by far). She was so used to sleeping in on Christmas that she was surprised when Ron shook her awake. "Lucy, come on, you have presents!"

She looked at him in pure confusion, the blanket pulled up just below her eyes. "I have what?"

"Presents," Ron repeated slowly. "You know, the things you get on Christmas."

She didn't know. The orphanage didn't bother with presents, really. But in the evening they had a nice turkey dinner, except the other kids had stolen her meal for as long as she could remember.

Intrigued, Lucy sat up and sure enough, there were two presents and a lot of cards. She couldn't hope to stop the beaming smile that spread across her face. "Wow," she breathed. "Wow."

"I know, right?" Harry agreed.

Ron impatiently tugged Lucy out of bed and over to the presents. "Come on, we've been waiting for you."

She sat down next to Ron and Harry and tentatively reached for the bigger parcel. Harry, who had a nearly identical one, did the same.

"I think I know who those are from," Ron turned a light shade of pink. "My mum. I told her you both didn't expect any presents and— oh, no," he groaned, "She's made you Weasley sweaters."

"Weasley sweaters?" Lucy questioned. She tore open her parcel and smiled widely again. Inside was a yellow sweater with a black L in the center of it. Without any hesitation, she pulled it on over her T-Shirt.

"Every year she makes us one," Ron explained as he unwrapped his own. "Mine's always maroon."

"That's really nice of her," Harry smiled, trying a piece of his fudge."

"We'll have to write her thank-you notes, Harry," Lucy reminded. She looked in her own box to see a delicious looking strawberry shortcake. "Oh, sweet!"

"I told her you were allergic to chocolate," Ron said, smiling at his friend's enthusiasm. "I'm glad she remembered."

"You're the best friend ever, Ron. Thanks a lot," she said sincerely. This was truly the best Christmas she'd ever had. Excited now, she opened up the other present. Hermione had sent her a copy of Basic Hexes for the Busy and Vexed with a note attached that read: 'Use responsibly.'

Lucy didn't know if she could make any promises there.

The cards were from all her friends; she was glad to have thought to send them all cards, too. She even got one from Wayne Hopkins who she thought for sure didn't like her. She'd sent him a bag of peppermints she nicked from the Great Hall in an attempt to pay him back for the time he slipped on Ron's candies. Although looking back on it, he might take that as an insult.

She decided she would wait for Harry's to open his last present before she dove into all of her cards. She watched as Harry unwrapped it and pulled out something peculiar; it was a fluid, silvery piece of fabric that fell to the floor elegantly.

Ron gaped at it, dropping his box of Every Flavored Beans. "I've heard of those," he whispered, "If that's what I think it is— they're really rare, and really valuable."

"What is is?" Harry wondered. He picked it up off the floor and ran his hand over it.

"It's an invisibility cloak. I'm sure it is— try it on."

Harry obliged, throwing the cloak around his shoulders. Lucy clapped her hands on either side of her face. From the neck down, Harry had disappeared.

"It is! Look down!" Ron urged.

Harry did so, then promptly dashed to the mirror to gaze at himself. After a moment of looking, he pulled the Cloak over his head and was now completely invisible.

"A note fell out of it!" Lucy pointed to a letter on the ground at Harry's feet. Or rather, where Harry's feet were supposed to be.

Harry quickly pulled off the Cloak and seized the letter. He read it aloud: "Your father left this in my possession before he died. It is time it was returned to you. Use it well... a very Merry Christmas to you."

"That's wonderful, Harry!" Lucy gave him a hug. "Whoever sent it, it sure was nice of them."

"Yeah," was all Harry could think to say.

Before anyone could say anything further on the matter, the door was flung open by two excited Weasley twins. Upon seeing Lucy, George gave a scandalized shriek.

"What is a girl doing in your dorm, Ronald and Harold!"

"Much less one of Rickett's girls!" Fred added.

"Merry Christmas to you too, guys," Lucy scowled.

"Only joking. Merry Christmas, Lucy," said George. "Hey, look— you and Harry've got Weasley sweaters!"

Lucy took notice of their sweaters; both were an ocean blue with a yellow F and G respectively. How did Mrs. Weasley put aside the time to make all of these? She positively had to send the woman a thank-you note.

"Theirs are better than ours, though," said Fred, holding up Harry's sweater. "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. You too, Harry."

Ron grumbled a little bit about hating the color, but Harry had no qualms about wearing his emerald green sweater.

"You haven't got a letter on yours," George observed of Harry. "I suppose she thinks you don't forget your name. But we're not stupid— we know we're called Gred and Forge."

"She put a letter on mine. What's that supposed to mean?" Lucy demanded. She looked directly at Ron. He was certainly the main source of information for Mrs. Weasley.

Ron avoided her eye. "I may have, possibly, in my letters, mentioned how much of a nutter you are."

"I am not!"

"You accidentally went to our Defense lesson for a week straight without noticing!"

That was sadly true. Everybody assumed she was doing it on purpose, and it was only when Professor Sprout came looking for her that she realized what she'd done. Thankfully, her head of house understood Lucy's mortification and didn't give her detention, but it definitely wasn't one of her finest moments.

"Maybe I was keeping an eye on Quirrell. You don't know me."

"Yes I bloody do—"

Thankfully for the other Gryffindors in the room, Percy poked his head through the door, suspicious as always. "What's all this noise?" He asked. His tone always bordered on disapproval and caution when it came to the twins.

Fred didn't answer, seizing the sweater Percy was carrying. "P for prefect! Get it on, Percy, come on, we're all wearing ours, even these two have got one!"

"I— don't— want—" Percy tried to get out as the ginger menaces forced the sweater over his head. Lucy would've told them off, but it was simply too funny to bother.

"And you're not sitting with the prefects today, either. Christmas is a time for family," said George in a tone that suggested that it had less so to do with family, and more so to do with tormenting Percy. They frog-marched Percy from the dormitory. Lucy exchanged a glance with her friends, then opted to follow them.

The Great Hall was decorated beautifully. The table appeared even more gorgeous: not for the decor, but rather the array of food on it. Lucy settled for a few slices of turkey and a scoop of mashed potatoes; it was only breakfast, after all. She was most amused by the wizard crackers. She opened one with Ron, and for all of morning she donned a pirate captain's hat. Harry sported a rear admiral's hat, Ron a cowboy, and Fred had a tiara which he and George spent breakfast wrestling over.

After breakfast, Lucy and the Weasleys headed outside for a supreme snowball fight. They separated into teams: Ron and Harry, Fred and George, and Lucy and Percy. Lucy had to pull out her best puppy dog eyes in order to convince Percy of that idea.

"Come on, Percy, you're the only one I'd want on my team. This is a wizard's match and you're the best at magic by far," Lucy pleaded. She quivered her bottom lip for the full effect.

Percy heaved a great sigh, but pulled his wand out.

"Oh, alright. But I'm in charge."

Lucy ended up being in charge.

She had Percy conjure up a moderate sized pirate ship made of ice and snow— a rather simple spell, apparently, that was easier than transfiguration. Things escalated from there; Fred and George were outraged at this unfair advantage and teamed up with Ron and Harry. With the twins' enchanted snowball spell, they were able to make a decent sized snow fort that a passing Professor Flitwick kindly polished into a small castle tower. The four Gryffindors hurled snowballs from the high ground with relentless pace. Lucy thought they might have reached their demise, when Percy had one more trick up his sleeve.

"If they want a war, we'll have a war, Lucy. This is the art of strategy," said Percy calmly. He muttered a spell Lucy didn't recognize and before her eyes, a snow cannon formed. He spoke a few more spells and it was suddenly all over. The snow cannon fired giant snowball after giant snowball and obliterated the boys' futile tower.

"AHHH! ABANDON SHIP!" George shrieked as the tower began to lean to the right. He threw his legs over the side of the tower and leaped down into the fluffy snow below.

"Don't leave me, Gred!" shouted Fred as he dove straight over after him.

"Traitors, the lot of you!" Ron accused. The tower crunched sickeningly and lurched to the side dangerously. All it would take was one more cannonball.

"Any last words before you rot in Davy Jones' Locker?" Lucy sang. She let out an evil laugh, aiming the cannon right at the cracking base of the tower.

"You don't have to do this, Luce," Harry tried, "There's still hope for you."

"Oh, I'm afraid not, Harry Potter. From this day on, you'll be known as the Boy-Who-Died," she giggled.

"This is getting quite grim," Percy whispered. She paid him no mind.

Ron turned to look at Harry. He took off his hat solemnly. "It's been an honor fighting beside you, Admiral."

Glumly, Harry followed suit. "And you, partner."

With a flick of Percy's wand, the cannon fired. It hit the weak point of the tower, and Ron and Harry let out terrified shouts as the twelve-foot-high tower toppled over sideways. They crashed into the snowbank, groaning as the snow covered their chests.

It was silent for a few moments, and then everybody burst into hysterics. Lucy slumped over the now deforming side of the pirate ship, wiping tears out of her eyes. She had no idea snowball fights could be so intense. Fred and George mimed each other's terror, poking fun at Ron and Harry all the while, and even Percy couldn't help himself from laughing.

"You're my official snowball fight partner, Percy," Lucy giggled.

"Ordinarily I would argue, but that offered me fine spell practice," Percy chuckled. He looked over the cold, wet, and out of breath kids before clapping his hands together. "Right, back to the common room to warm up— I've still got studying to do for OWLs."

Fred and George starting making fun of him, but Percy ignored them. Lucy figured they were only sore that they lost to Prefect Percy while they had a team of four people. Despite their poking fun, the twins were too worn to argue for long, and they retreated to the Gryffindor Common room. At this point, the Fat Lady didn't argue over Lucy's entrance as she had when she first started visiting.

Lucy sat watching Ron and Harry play wizard chess by the fire. She felt intrigued enough to actually try and with Ron's old set, Percy played with her until it was time for dinner. She rather liked Percy's company and to the twins' horror and Ron's surprise, she spent most of Christmas dinner talking with him about upcoming courses in third-year. Percy even pulled a wizard cracker with her, and she convinced him to wear the hat until dessert.

After the best Christmas Lucy had ever had, she was worn and tired. She climbed into Dean's bed and fell asleep before she could even draw the curtains shut.

The next morning, Harry had to shake Ron and Lucy awake. They were suffering from post-Christmas exhaustion and frankly, Lucy wasn't amused to have been woken up at seven in the morning. All was forgotten, however, when Harry recounted the adventure he'd gone on last night.

Harry found a mirror that showed him his entire family. His mum, his dad, all of his relatives. As he finished, Ron gave him a sullen look.

"You could have woken us up," he said crossly.

"You can come tonight. I'm going back; I want to show you both the mirror," said Harry.

"I'd like to see your mum and dad," Ron said eagerly.

"And I want to see all your family, all the Weasleys, you'll be able to show me your other brothers and everyone."

Lucy supposed Ron replied to that, but she couldn't hear him. All she could think about was what she would see in the mirror. Was it possible? She had no clue. She had no idea what her parents looked like, but she had a nice imagined version of them. She had a version that she would never share with anyone.

She couldn't focus on anything that day. Percy worriedly noted that she hadn't eaten and was on her tail about it all of dinner until she finally had a biscuit.

That night, they snuck out of the common room, all crowded underneath Harry's cloak. They wandered for at least an hour before they spotted a suit of armor; Harry pushed the door open and ran into the room, right in front of the mirror.

"There they are, Ron. Can't you see?"

Ron stood where Harry was, then stared, transfixed on the image. "Look at me!"

"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! Here, Lucy, you look!"

Before Lucy could explain that she was nervous about what she'd see, Ron had already towed her to the direct spot. She looked into the mirror.

And looked.

And looked.

There they were.

...There they were.

A woman wearing a yellow sundress and an apron. She was an artist, like Lucy dreamed she would be. Splotches of paint had stained her neck and hands, and her hand was on Lucy's shoulder. Her hair fell to her shoulders in dirty blonde ringlets and she had the clearest blue eyes. And she looked so proud of her.

There was a man. He wore a wrinkled dress shirt and his brown hair was ruffled up. He couldn't make up his mind between looking proudly down at Lucy to looking adoringly at his wife. His brown eyes were identical to her own. She looked into his eyes, and he pulled a face at her before laughing silently.

Then, a third person appeared. He was the spitting image of the man, except he had blonde hair, and he leaned casually against Lucy's shoulder.

"So, Lucy? What do you see?" Ron urged.

Oh... she'd forgotten they were here.

"I... I, um..." Lucy couldn't remember a single word in the English language.

There they were.

She felt something drip down her neck. Looking in the mirror, she realized she was crying.

"Lucy?" Harry said, "What's wrong? Can't you see them?"

The tears kept coming, and suddenly she started sobbing.

There they were. They were hers.

She cried so hard she couldn't even see the mirror anymore.

They were hers. They were hers.

And they're gone.

Harry quickly threw the cloak over her and the rest, and he rushed them out of the room. She barely processed the trip, didn't even notice when Ron sat her down in Dean's bed. She didn't sleep; she mulled over how awful and cruel that mirror was, to show her something she would never have. She cried even more as she realized how good it was when she didn't know what she was missing.

The next morning, Ron warned them not to go back.

Lucy thought that was a good idea. Harry, however, thought it was absolutely stupid.

"Come off it, Ron. You sound like Hermione. I want to see my parents, and Lucy didn't even have a proper go at it— you shoved her right in front of the mirror without giving her time to prepare," Harry scowled.

"I'm serious, Harry. I've got a bad feeling about it— don't go."

Harry, of course, ignored him.

Lucy wasn't about to let him face that cruel mirror alone. She didn't dare look back into it; it had nearly driven her mad then. She wanted to hit the mirror until her knuckles split and to crawl inside of it. All of last night, she had to stop herself from wandering back to do that exact thing— she didn't want that for Harry.

She followed him silently into the room, watching as he took a seat in front of the mirror. She leaned against the wall; two hours ticked by, but she didn't dare leave. She was almost glad when Headmaster Dumbledore caught them in the act.

"So— back again, Harry?"

Harry turned to look at Dumbledore, who sat on top of a desk beside Lucy.

"I— I didn't see you, sir." He looked over to Lucy with a mildly accusing look. She only shrugged in return.

"Strange how nearsighted being invisible can make you," said Dumbledore. He stood from the desk and sat on the floor beside Harry. He looked to Lucy and patted the space beside him. She didn't dare disobey, despite the fact that he motioned to the exact spot where she would see into the mirror. "You two, like hundreds before you, have discovered the delights of the Mirror of Erised."

"Delights," Lucy repeated doubtfully.

Dumbledore glanced at her knowingly. "I expect by now you've realized what it does?"

Harry struggled to answer. "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," said Dumbledore. Lucy desperately wanted to learn whatever method he did use. "Now, can you think what the Mirror of Erised shows us all?"

Lucy could think of a thing or two, but she suspected this question was directed toward Harry, who hadn't quite grasped the horrible side yet. Lucy knew; she noticed something that sent her to tears, even now as she looked up at the man and woman.

"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?"

"It shows us what we want..." Harry said slowly, "Whatever we want..."

"Yes and no," Dumbledore said 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 them all. Lucy sees the parents she's never had. However, this mirror will give us neither knowledge or 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."

"They weren't real," Lucy revealed, glancing at Harry. "I knew they weren't my parents when I saw them. Because while I was looking, I suddenly wished more than anything that I'd had an older brother like Percy or Anthony... and right before my eyes, I had a brother standing beside me."

Dumbledore nodded gravely. "A prime example of the mirror's power; I'm glad you were able to separate fact from fiction, Lucy. The Mirror will be moved to a new home tomorrow, and I ask that you do not 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 two put that admirable Cloak back on and get to bed?"

Harry and Lucy stood up.

"Sir— Professor Dumbledore? Can I ask you something?" Harry spoke.

"Obviously, you've just done so," Dumbledore smiled. Inwardly, Lucy groaned. That was such a dad joke. Or rather, an Anthony joke. "You may ask me one more thing, however."

"What do you see when you look in the mirror?"

Lucy immediately whapped her friend across the chest lightly. "Harry! That's super personal," she scolded. Harry smiled at her sheepishly.

"I see myself holding a pair of thick, woolen socks."

Okay, what.

"One can never have enough socks," said Dumbledore. "Another Christmas has come and gone and I didn't get a single pair. People will insist on giving me books."

Although Lucy was sure that was a flagrant lie, she made up her mind as she lay down in bed that night. Next Christmas, whether it was a joke or not, she would send Headmaster Dumbledore the best pair of thick, woolen socks she could find.

And also, she hoped that one day she might have the chance to destroy that cursed mirror.