Harry Potter and all associated charaters and situations are the property of J.K. Rowling. I make no claim to ownership.
CHAPTER 22: The Mirror of Erised
26 December 1991
"Harry!" whispered Theo urgently. Harry grunted and rolled over to see his friend standing next to his bed, though why he was whispering in an otherwise empty room was a mystery.
"What is it, Theo?" asked Harry grumpily, still half-asleep. "And what time is it?"
"Never mind that now," the other boy said at a more normal volume. "I found something... something strange. And ... I really need you to take a look at it and tell me what it means. Please?"
Harry felt around in this dark for his glasses and wand and then cast a Lumos and Tempus. "Theo! It's nearly 3 o'clock in the morning!" he said irritably. "What could you want me to see that can't at least wait until dawn?"
"It can't wait, Harry. Please, just come with me." It was at that point by the dim light of the Lumos spell that Harry realized his friend had been crying.
"Theo, what's happened? Tell me what's going on?" he asked, suddenly alert and wary.
"I can't just explain it – you wouldn't believe me. That's why I want you to come see for yourself. It's ... I think it's possible that I've gone crazy, so I want someone ... sensible ... someone I trust to back me up and tell me if what I found is real or not." Theo could see Harry's hesitation in the gloom. "Harry, in all the time we've been friends, I've never asked you for anything. But I'm asking you now, please come with me."
Harry studied his friend. It was true that Theo, shy as he was, had never made any demands on Harry's friendship. Not even after the loan of his Notice-Me-Not ring to aid in rescuing Neville at Halloween. At the time, Harry had not fully appreciated how precious a gift that was. The ring was a Nott family heirloom. It was supposed to be with Theo's brother Alexander at Durmstrang, but Alex was intensely if discretely protective of his younger brother and secretly gave him the ring, a Rememberall and several other magical items which Tiberius Nott had intended for his Heir Presumptive. The elder Nott would be furious to know that Theo had the ring at all, and Harry shuddered at the thought of his reaction if he ever learned that Theo had given it to a Potter in order to help rescue a Longbottom.
"Do I at least have time to get dressed?" he asked wearily. Apparently not, as seconds later, the two exited the dungeon in pajamas, robes and slippers, though Harry insisted on donning his wand holster. Five minutes later, Theo led Harry into an empty dust-covered classroom in an unused wing of the school. In the middle of the room was a large and rather ornate free-standing mirror, standing about four-feet wide and twice as tall. Theo pointed at it excitedly and started in that direction, but Harry quickly grabbed him by the shoulder. "No. I've followed you here after curfew, but I'm not going near that thing until you tell me what's going on. How did you even find this room?"
Theo looked embarrassed. "Well, I was feeling a bit hungry during the night – you know I have trouble sleeping – so I sneaked over to the kitchens for a snack. One of the upper years who's friends with Alex told me how to find it and how to get in. On my way back, Mrs. Norris saw me, and I thought Filch might catch me, so I ran. I got turned around, and when I thought I heard them behind me, I ducked in here. That's when I found her."
"Her?"
Theo nodded excitedly and pulled free of Harry's grasp. He ran across the room to stand in front of the mirror with a rapturous expression on his face. Cautiously, Harry followed him more slowly into the gloomy, dust-covered room. About halfway across the room, he jumped at the sound of the door creaking behind him. He'd forgotten that he'd left it open partially. Slowly, he turned back towards Theo and moved to join his friend, waving away the dust and cobwebs while mentally steeling himself for whatever image the mirror showed.
"Isn't she beautiful," Theo said softly. And she was, with her brilliant red hair and dazzling green eyes only a shade darker than Harry's own. His only question was why Theo was so entranced by Lily Potter. Well, that and why Theo was ignoring the other three figures in the mirror – James Potter, Jim Potter, and Harry himself. But then Harry had never seen a reflection of himself like this one: healthy, happy and thrilled to be in the company of the other Potters. He still wore Slytherin robes, just as Jim wore the colors of Gryffindor, but there was no hint of animosity over it on the part of either twin. The brothers each had an arm over the other's shoulder as if they were the best of friends. James, in his auror's robes, affectionately rubbed his fingers through Harry's hair, mussing the perfect Sleekeasy hairstyle, but Harry only laughed as if used to it. And Lily looked back and forth at her three boys (for James's easy laugh made him look like an overgrown boy playing dress-up as an auror) in the very picture of maternal love. Theo was right – she was beautiful.
"This is what it should have been. This is the life we all should have had," Harry thought in wonderment.
Then, Theo spoke again, almost dreamily. "So beautiful. Why did she have to die, Harry?"
Theo's words sliced through the train of Harry's thoughts like a jagged knife, and out of sheer reflex, Harry initiated the basic self-diagnostic techniques that had comprised the first lesson of his introductory Occlumency training. "Wait, what? Lily's still alive. So what is Theo talking about? Some other woman? Of course. He sees someone else in the mirror, someone he loves as much as I love my family. So we see different things. I see that my family loves me, and he sees that someone he loves who died. But ... that means that what he's seeing isn't real. And if he is seeing something impossible then ... what I see ... is impossible too. They look like they love me. Impossible. They look like they accept me. Impossible. I look like I love them. Impossible. It's all a lie. Nothing but IMPOSSIBLE LIES!"
With a low guttural cry like a wounded animal, Harry turned his face from the mirror and staggered a few steps away, dropping to his hands and knees as he fought the urge to vomit. And it hurt! It had been physically painful to rip himself out of the comforting fantasy that beckoned within the mirror. Even now that he knew it was a deception, he still wanted to go back and look at it again. From somewhere behind him, he thought he heard a movement and in a flash, his wand was out panning the room. But there was nothing there – just his imagination playing tricks, the pounding of his heart making him jumpy.
As he retracted his wand, he suddenly noticed that his hands were shaking, and from his side vantage point, he dared another look at the mirror. It seemed safe now. Well, safe to him – Theo had also fallen to his knees and was staring in awe at the image it held, tears streaming down his face even as he grinned in delight. Apparently, its powers only affected those who looked directly into it. Harry marveled at what sort of stupidity would lead to something as monstrous as this being placed in a school. Then, he remembered what else had been placed in the school and understood. This was a trap, one meant for Voldemort himself. And some fool had left it in an unlocked room over the Christmas break. Harry shook his head. Then, he thought back to what he'd felt when he looked into the mirror and let out a shuddering breath. He had nearly been ensnared by a trap intended for Voldemort. Would it have driven him mad? Sucked out his soul? Or merely left him inert and helpless until someone else came along? Almost certainly, he would never have broken free on his own if he hadn't begun a study of Occlumency, and even then, he'd needed Theo to say something to trigger his primitive defenses. He thanked whatever gods wizards were supposed to worship that Theo himself had broken free long enough to come to him instead of staying here alone all night.
Harry rose and edged around slowly, avoiding a direct reflection. At the top of the mirror, he noticed, was some lettering. It was an archaic script but clearly English letters, though it didn't look like the English language (or indeed, any language Harry had ever encountered). "ERISED STRA EHRU OYT UBE CAFRU OYT ON WOHSI," it said. Harry studied the words for a moment and then rolled his eyes. "Wizards," he thought contemptuously. He hoped Voldemort didn't take the time to read the instruction manual someone had helpfully placed atop the mirror before looking within, or Dumbledore's little game would be all for nothing.
"So, the mirror shows images of whatever one subconsciously wants to see the most, which in Theo's case, is the image of a dead woman," thought Harry. "Probably his mother who, according to Neville, died in a vaguely suspicious accident in 1985. Theo would have been four or five." Harry focused on whatever was going on in Theo's bewitched head, brutally pushing aside for the moment any thoughts on what he himself had seen within the mirror. He wasn't big on self-reflection at the best of times, and with Theo ensnared, this was certainly not the best of times.
"Theo, why did you bring me here?" he asked mildly.
"You're so much cleverer than me. I could see her, but I can't get her to speak. I knew if I showed her to you, you could find a way to let her communicate, and she could tell everyone the truth about how she died. Then, she could be at peace. We both could."
Harry closed his eyes and again silently cursed whoever left the mirror here. He assumed it was Dumbledore, but there seemed to be no shortage of idiots at Hogwarts. "Who, Theo? Who do you see in the mirror?".
"It's ... it's my mother," he confirmed without taking his eyes from the mirror. "Can't you see her?"
"No, Theo. The mirror shows something different to whoever looks into it. Tell me about her. What does she look like?"
"Like I said – beautiful. Her eyes are ice-blue and her hair is the color of fresh straw. And she loves me even though ..." Theo's eyes blinked rapidly. Harry took a step towards him and readied himself, careful to avoid looking into the mirror himself.
"Even though ... what?" Harry asked gently.
Theo's mouth began to crinkle. "It was because of me. Father wanted a girl. He had his male heir to carry on the line, and he wanted a daughter Draco's age to get a marriage contract with the Malfoys. He made Mother take an illegal potion to increase the chances of a female child. But it didn't work and it made her sick and I almost died as a baby. I was sickly for years ... another reason for him to hate me. And when I was three, he made her try again. That baby was stillborn, and after that she couldn't have any more children." Theo's eyes started to blink rapidly, as Harry tensed. "He was angry all the time after that. At her. At both of us. Drunk a lot, too ... he would say ... 'what's the point of a wife who can't even breed properly?" And ... that if only they'd found out earlier ... that I'd been a mistake... she could have aborted me and started over earlier."
Then, Theo broke out into wracking sobs, his head bowing and his eyes squeezing shut, and Harry made his move while the visual connection was broken. He darted forward to Theo, twisted the boy around by the shoulders to turn him away from the mirror, and placed his hands on either side of the boys head so he couldn't turn back in its direction. Then, he leaned forward until the two boys were touching foreheads.
"Shhh, Theo. It's okay. I'm here. I told you I would be here for you if you ever needed me, and here I am. But I need you to stay strong and listen to me. And most of all, I need you to focus on me. Do not look at the mirror."
"But, my mother ..." he said through his tears.
"It's. Not. Her. Theo. I'm so sorry but it's not really her. The mirror is a trap. The words over the mirror are backwards writing and they say "I SHOW NOT YOUR FACE BUT YOUR HEART'S DESIRE. And that's just an awful thing to show to someone who's hurting, because to show someone his heart's desire when he can't have it or even touch it is just the cruelest thing you can do to someone. Now forget the mirror and just focus on me. Go on with your story. What happened to your mum? I'll be here to listen and be with you and help you, but you have to stay focused on me."
The two slowly turned to sit on the floor with their backs to the mirror. It was still difficult though because somehow, even with his back to it, Harry swore he could feel the image of his loving family still in the mirror calling out for his attention, and he was sure it was worse for Theo. Harry put his arm around his sobbing friend's shoulder and held him firmly.
Theo took a few seconds to collect himself. "When I was about five or so, I heard them arguing and poked my head out of my bedroom door. He was drunk again, and he'd just found out that the Malfoys had set up an arranged marriage between Draco and Pansy. He was furious, yelling about what a waste I was and what a failure she was. They argued and ... and he backhanded her hard. She was standing at the top of the stairs and ... she fell."
Theo broke down at that and wept for a moment, resting his head on Harry's shoulder. Not knowing what to say, Harry just held on tight to Theo's shoulder and waited for him to continue.
"After ... that happened, Father saw me and realized I'd seen everything. He grabbed me and said he'd kill me if I didn't go along with his story. When the auror's came, he told them that I'd bumped into her on accident while running down the hall and that's why she lost her balance and fell. I said it was true even though it must have been obvious I was lying. Not that it mattered. We're an Ancient and Noble House, so none of them wanted to look too closely at how the Lord's wife ended up dead. But Alex knew. That's why he gave me his Rememberall – in case Father ever tried to change my memories so that I believed his story. Alex didn't want me to carry the guilt for what Father did, but he made me promise not to tell anyone because ... because Father would kill me." Theo laughed brokenly through his tears and wiped his sleeve across his face. "Father wants to kill me anyway. He's joked about it enough. He actually jokes at dinner about how he many different ways he could kill me and get away with it. I think he's just waiting for a good excuse. That's why ... when I saw ... I thought she was a ghost or a spirit or maybe the mirror let you talk to the dead. And if she could accuse him, maybe the Ministry would do ... something!"
Theo's whole body shook with silent tears as Harry rubbed his back while trying unsuccessfully to come up with something – anything – comforting to say. The boy's distress was so loud and heartfelt that Harry almost didn't hear the cough. Almost. He spared a quick glance over towards the entrance to the room and saw nothing. Then, he looked at the floor and noticed telltale footprints on the dusty floor. Two sets belonging to Theo and himself, and a third set that looked like prints from a pair of trainers that led to an alcove directly across the room where the boys were sitting.
"Theo?" Harry whispered. The boy slowly looked up into Harry's suddenly intense eyes. "I need you to keep very calm and still. Keep your eyes on me, and keep your back to that mirror, okay? Can you promise to do that?" Theo nodded slowly. And then, Harry moved, snapping out his wand and standing as he cast. "VENTUS!" He put as much power as he could into the air-generating spell and was rewarded with a powerful gust of wind that enveloped the intruder in a cloud of thick dust that had him coughing uncontrollably. But more than that, the wind also caused the edges of the invisibility cloak the other person was wearing to flap up, revealing the legs of a boy in Gryffindor robes wearing the same expensive new trainers that Harry's brother had shown off at Christmas dinner the previous day. Theo watched in surprise before stiffening in fear at what sounded like a feral beast somewhere nearby. Then, he realized it was Harry ... growling.
"ACCIO JIM POTTER!"
Jim yelped as his legs were pulled out from under him, and he banged his head as it hit the floor. The invisibility cloak fell away completely as the boy slid feet-first towards his brother. Disoriented, he tried to pull his wand out of his pocket, but Harry kicked at his hand and the wand went flying across the room. Then, Harry jumped on top of Jim, landing hard astride the other boy's stomach and weighing down his arms. Jim coughed in pain as the air was knocked out of him. Instantly, Harry had his left hand around Jim's throat with his thumb just below the Adam's apple and the tip of his wand sticking painfully into the flesh below Jim's chin.
"Hello, Little Brother," Harry said through clenched teeth. "So glad you could join us." There was a terrible rasping edge to Harry's voice that Theo had never heard from him before. Jim froze. He couldn't move easily anyway, and from this position, Harry had his choice of crushing Jim's larynx or shooting a spell straight into his head. The Boy-Who-Lived looked up into his brother's deathly green eyes, and after four months of calling Harry a "dark wizard," Jim suddenly wondered just how dangerous his brother might really be. He wasn't the only one.
"Theo?" said Harry in a commanding voice without ever moving or breaking eye contact with Jim, "are you still looking at me and not the mirror?"
"Y-yes, Harry," said Theo. His own voice cracked in anxiety. When Harry had held Malfoy at wandpoint back on Halloween night, he'd talked in a light and playful manner even as he threatened to shoot Draco in the face with a fireworks spell. Looking back, it had been like a cat toying with a mouse it had caught. This was different, a much more dangerous predator who was not in any kind of playful mood.
"Good. Now, I want you to go out that door without looking back and return to the dorm. I'll be along shortly."
"N-no. I'm ... I won't leave you alone with him, Harry."
"It's okay, Theo. I can handle him."
Silence hung in the air. "I'm not worried about him hurting you, Harry," Theo said quietly.
With that, Harry smiled, still with his eyes locked on Jim, who swallowed at the sight. To him, Harry might as well be baring his fangs. "It's okay, Theo. I already promised Neville. No death, dismemberment or permanent injury. Now go on back to the dorm. Jim and I are just going to have a little chat. Brother to brother."
Slowly, Theo edged his way around the twins who seemed frozen in some violent tableau, like living statues of Cain and Abel. At the door, he almost turned around when Harry spoke again in that frightening voice Theo had never heard from him before tonight. "Don't. Look. Back." He was suddenly alarmed to realize how much Harry's voice reminded him of his father's voice during his darker rants. Theo took a deep breath and exited the room, pulling the door shut behind him and hoping that he wasn't leaving the scene of Jim Potter's imminent murder.
Harry neither moved nor relaxed his grip, and his eyes bored into Jim's. He spoke softly but with such coldness that the other boy shivered. "So, did you enjoy the show, Jim? One slimy Slytherin snake comforting another who was crying over his dead mother and his murderous Death Eater father. I'm impressed you could keep from laughing. I bet you can't wait to tell all your Gryffindor friends about it."
Jim coughed. "Harry, it's not..."
"Shut. Up. Don't even pretend with me. You followed us with your little invisibility cloak hoping to get us into trouble. Finding us weeping in front of Dumbledore's new toy was just gravy. You have no idea..." Harry shook for a second, his thumb digging just a little deeper into Jim's throat. Jim's eyes widened in fear.
"You Gryffindors ... with your games and your pranks and your ... adventures. You have no idea what it's like to be Theo Nott and live each day knowing that your own father might kill you on a drunken whim. Or what it's like to be Harry Potter and worry that you'll drop a plate while doing the dishes and get locked up in your boot cupboard for a day. Or maybe a week. This is not a game to us, Jim, because Slytherins don't play games. Theo and I are what we are because it's how we survive. Do you understand what I'm saying, Jim?"
"Y-yes, Harry. I understand."
"No. No, I don't think you do, Little Brother. So let me be a little more direct." Harry leaned forward without relaxing his grip or moving his wand, until his face was less than a foot from Jim's. "Since literally the day we first met, you have told nearly everyone who will listen that I am a dark wizard. So now, I want you to listen to what the dark wizard has to say and believe it with all of your tiny shriveled heart. If any harm comes to Theo Nott and I trace it back to the Big Fat Mouth of the Boy-Who-Lived, I swear to you on the souls of the parents who abandoned me that you will learn to fear me more than you have ever feared Voldemort. Do you understand that, Little Brother?"
Jim, unable to speak due to the pressure on his throat, nodded urgently. Slowly, Harry relaxed his hands and rose up, never taking his wand off Jim. Then, he turned and headed towards the door. "Nice cloak," he said casually as he passed by it. "I guess I know what Daddy got his Number-One-Son for Christmas."
He had just put his hand to the door when Jim coughed out his name. "Harry...! Wait!" He hesitated, waiting for Jim to continue.
"What did you see ... in the mirror? What did you see?"
Harry turned back to his brother who was still resting on the floor. "You first," he replied coldly.
Jim swallowed again, steeled himself, and turned to face the mirror. Then, he gasped. Part of him was strangely unsurprised by the reflected image now that he knew what the mirror did, but Jim Potter would never have guessed in a million years how similar it was to what Harry had seen. James and Lily were there, and Harry and Jim were loving brothers, though this version of Harry had hair as unruly as Jim's own and wore identical Gryffindor robes. In fact, Jim couldn't tell which of the twins in the mirror was which, for neither of them had been marked with an identifying scar. It seemed that in the world of his heart's desire, Voldemort had never come to their house and torn the twins apart.
"POTTER!" barked Harry after a few seconds. Jim's attention snapped away from the seductive image and back to the reality of an angry Slytherin glaring at him. "Well?"
Jim swallowed. "I saw Mom and Dad and myself and ..." The words died in his throat, a truth he could not bring himself to admit to any Slytherin but especially not this one. "And that's all. I'm an only child."
Harry snorted as if he'd expected that answer.
"And you?" Jim asked. "What did you see?"
"Just myself," Harry lied just as easily. "Which is all I've ever needed. I'm in my mid-twenties, I think, and wearing formal robes as I'm sworn into the Wizengamot as the new Lord Potter." He sneered hatefully at his twin. "Presumably because James Potter lies rotting in his grave." Then, he turned with a flourish and strode out of the room, leaving an angry and shaken Jim behind. After a moment's hesitation, Jim stood up slowly and walked out as well, snatching up his wand and his father's cloak as he left.
Seconds later, there was a shimmer in an archway in the far corner as Dumbledore allowed his invisibility spell to lapse. The archway itself led to a secret passageway that only the Headmaster could navigate – he'd come as quickly as he could once he sensed the mystic alarm indicating that the Mirror had ensnared a victim. Exhaling slowly, Dumbledore replaced his wand inside his robe. He'd kept it at the ready, just in case it was necessary to separate the Potter twins before violence erupted, but despite Harry's cold fury, the old wizard believed that there was no murder in the boy's heart, just a terrible wound that couldn't be healed. And so the old wizard stayed his hand as long as possible to watch invisibly. Still, it was ... unnerving to see Harry Potter instantly shift from the compassion and protectiveness he held for the Nott boy to the ruthless efficiency with which he disarmed and then threatened Jim.
Dumbledore looked back to the Mirror of Erised with revulsion. He'd been working on the modifying the mirror's enchantments all night and had only taken a break for an hour to review some notes on its history that he kept in his office. The door had to be remain unlocked while he was harmonizing the cursed mirror with the school's protective wards, but at 3 a.m. and with so few students in the castle, he felt sure it was safe. And yet three students managed to find the wretched thing in under an hour! He grimaced at the implications. Had the Mirror of Erised itself somehow reached out for potential victims? Or was there some other force at work? Or perhaps Fate was just toying with the Potter Twins as it had for more than eleven years.
The Headmaster shook his head. He'd planned to spend another few days finishing his modifications, but now he was reluctant to leave the mirror for even one more hour than necessary where students might encounter it. He closed his eyes and sent a mental command for a house elf to fetch him a pot of strong coffee. He would finish his work tonight whatever it took and then move the mirror to the Third Floor. As he moved closer to the foul thing, Dumbledore ignored the images of dead and estranged family members waving to him from the other side of the mirror's glass. Attuned as he now was to the inner workings of the Mirror of Erised, its dark magic and the regrets they reflected held no purchase on him. He was more troubled by the images he'd seen reflected for the Potter Twins – two boys so much alike and with so much in common, but who now, it seemed, could only cause each other pain. With a heavy heart, Albus Dumbledore returned to his work.
The next update will post on June 19, 2015, between 4 and 6 pm (CST).