The Potter Timeline
Chapter 11 - Mysteries and Reflections
At first, it looked like a patch of snow in a small clearing between two oaks. But when Harry drew closer, he realized it was a creature of some kind. Shards of moonlight filtering through branches made it difficult to work out what kind of creature it was until his broomstick was directly overhead. He then saw the white form was in the shape of a horse. But something protruding from the head of the horse changed this perception.
'Is that...a unicorn?' he wondered with amazement.
It was Harry's first time seeing one and he had a half-mind to fly down and take a closer look at the beautiful beast whose hair shone brilliant white where the moonlight touched it. But his instinct restrained him.
He remembered the green flash of light.
Screwing up his eyes at the animal, the boy saw the unicorn was not moving - it must have been killed by the curse. This horrible thought filled him with revulsion. At that precise moment, an owl cried out in the distance and the hair on the back of Harry's neck stood on end.
Something dreadful was here.
He was startled by a red flash lighting up the woods around the unicorn for a split second. When the partial darkness returned, a silvery substance, glistening from the moonlight, began flowing out of the side of the beast onto the ground. In the next moment, Harry's heart pounded as a dark form silently appeared out of nowhere and hovered over the white creature.
It looked like someone wearing a black cloak with an overlarge hood, kneeling next to the animal. Harry's face scrunched up in disgust at a slurping, gurgling sound coming from the figure. The thing, whoever or whatever it was, seemed to be...drinking the blood of the unicorn. This awful spectacle made Harry want to flee back to the safety of Gryffindor Tower immediately. But before he could turn his Nimbus, the sound of something crashing through the underbrush grabbed his attention.
The cloaked figure stopped drinking and stared in the direction of the commotion. Three large creatures approached the dead unicorn and its evil predator. Harry couldn't make out what these creatures were from his vantage point, but they made a sound like horse hoofs. The black figure hissed at the three beasts before turning and fleeing, somehow able to float through the air as it made no noise during its flight.
Eager to get away from this frightening scene, Harry pointed his broomstick toward the castle. But one last glance at the clearing revealed what appeared to be three horsemen standing over the poor unicorn. One of them looked up and gazed...right at Harry! How could it know he was there? The Seeker in him shot off toward the edge of the forest at blistering speed. But just as he passed over the tree line, Harry saw the cloaked figure shoot out of the woods below and fly across the ground toward the castle.
Curious, the boy steered in its direction. When it was halfway between the forest and the nearest wall, the thing stopped. Harry stopped after, his heart still thumping.
"Ow!" he spoke out loud as he felt a sharp pain in his scar.
He was stunned.
Concerned he might have revealed himself, Harry sat perfectly still. The black form glanced around. It then looked into the sky. A moment later, it turned back toward the castle. When the figure reached the lower wall, it pulled out a wand and muttered something. A secret door materialized in the wall through which the cloaked thing entered. Immediately after, the door closed and disappeared, leaving nothing but stone wall.
Harry was dumbstruck.
As the cold air was numbing his body, he shot toward Gryffindor Tower to return to the warmth of his dorm room. But along the way, the kid tried to comprehend what he had just witnessed.
Someone or something from the castle had just killed a unicorn and drank its blood.
It could float or fly above the ground.
It could use a wand.
And it could apparently invoke Harry's scar pain!
The first two facts made no sense and were horrific in their own right. The third suggested something unthinkable: the cloaked figure was someone within Hogwarts, someone who knew how to enter and exit the castle through a secret doorway. But the last fact drew Harry's mind to a disturbing conclusion. There was only one person he knew of inside Hogwarts who could cause his scar to hurt: Professor Quirrell.
Despite his and Hermione's suspicions about the man, Harry couldn't fathom the professor doing something so terrible as what he just witnessed. Unless, as Hagrid pointed out, the man had truly lost his mind. But the strangeness of what the boy saw threw everything into doubt. If it was Professor Quirrell, how could the man fly? This made no sense.
When Harry reached the window to his dorm, he used the unlocking spell to open it and flew inside. After closing the window tight, putting away his cloak and broomstick, then changing back into his pajamas, the eleven-year-old crawled into bed and drew the curtains of his four-poster. He stared at the ceiling for a while, the nightmarish images of the dead unicorn and the cloaked figure still flashing across his terrified mind.
Then finally, sleep came...
~HP~
Harry made his way toward the Great Hall for breakfast, groggy and disheveled after last night's ordeal. But more than that, he felt paranoid. The halls of Hogwarts now seemed eerie despite a few oblivious students and staff moving about and Christmas displays still attempting to give off holiday cheer. In Harry's mind, some great evil seemed to lurk around every corner now. He was concerned the cloaked figure might appear at any moment and kill him like it did the unicorn. But he also couldn't shake the notion that Professor Quirrell was this great evil, though how or why he didn't know. At the moment, he didn't want to think about it.
"...and so far, no sign of our intruder, professor," the voice of Filch echoed off the ancillary hallway leading to the library.
Hearing this, Harry stopped just out of sight of the hall entrance.
"They haven't attempted to reenter the library, then," Professor Snape spoke.
"No, sir. The doors are still locked with that charm you put on 'em, as far as I can tell."
"Good. Keep your eyes peeled, Argus, and report what you find to me. I'd personally like to deliver our culprit to Dumbledore for punishment."
"Yes, sir."
Harry swallowed hard and hurried past the hallway toward the Great Hall. A quick glance down the hall revealed Filch moving toward the library while Snape was heading this way. The greasy-haired man spotted Harry.
"Potter!" the man uttered.
Harry stopped and his heart pounded.
Snape stood before him, his dark eyes gazing at the boy in suspicion.
"Enjoying your holidays at the castle?" the man asked sarcastically. No doubt he was fishing for a response that might implicate Harry in the Restricted Section "break-in".
"Yes, sir. I am," Harry gave out with as much confidence as he could muster.
Snape eyed him carefully, as though searching for an excuse to haul Harry off to Dumbledore anyway.
"Well, enjoy these last two days before term, then. I certainly shall, before I have to tolerate you and your know-it-all friend Granger for another three months."
The professor frowned and moved on. But this irked Harry - he couldn't let the man off of his remark about Hermione.
"Excuse me, sir," Harry uttered as politely as possible.
Snape stopped, spun on his heels, and glared at the boy.
"What is it?" he snarled through gritted teeth.
"You knew my mother, didn't you?"
For a brief second, Snape's eyes widened in...fear! This was something Harry had not seen in the professor before. Clearly Harry's question struck a nerve. But that look was quickly replaced by anger.
"What of it, Potter?"
"I imagine you were friends at one point."
"And?"
Harry looked the man straight in the eyes.
"Well, sir, I'm sure then you can appreciate how much it means to be friends with a really smart girl."
The professor stared at Harry, frowned again, then turned and marched off.
Harry smiled.
~HP~
It was the final night of Christmas break before the rest of the students returned to begin second term. Under cover of his cloak, Harry crept toward the third-floor corridor. As Filch seemed focused on the elusive library "intruder", the boy figured this was the best time to revisit a place that still had him curious: the Hall of Reflection. And with Hogwarts mostly empty of its occupants, it would make Harry's final excursion that much easier.
He approached the cobweb-ridden door and tried the handle. It was locked. Pulling out his wand, Harry used the unlocking spell and the door opened without a hitch. The boy grinned.
Hermione's spell was simply indispensable.
He stepped inside and closed the door behind him, removing his cloak. The pyres on either side lit, as well as the two from the gargoyle statues in the center. Light reflected off the mirrored walls and Harry gazed at his reflection while walking to the end of the hall.
He stepped up to the door behind which lay the three-headed dog. The immense beast was apparently sleeping as it gave off that whining, gurgling noise coupled with a soft snore. Harry moved back to the center of the hall, curious if any of the people he saw a month earlier might reappear.
For about a minute, nothing happened. Then, the reflected door from the outer corridor opened. Harry glanced at the actual door to find it closed. Throwing his gaze back at its mirrored version, two teenage girls, wearing robes and ties from what looked like Ravenclaw, entered. Their hair was styled in a form he'd never seen before, though it made him think of those old, faded pictures of a much younger Aunt Petunia that hung on the wall across from the cupboard under the stairs. The girls chatted excitedly while heading for the door leading to the trapdoor corridor.
After, an old man carrying a small black cauldron stepped out of the trapdoor room, passing through the hall. His grayish robes looked strange, like something from a time long ago. The man opened the outer door and disappeared. For several more minutes, Harry watched various people appear and disappear in the mirrors as though mere ghosts. A small boy sat and cried in one corner while holding a note in his hand. A tall, thin wizard with a pointed green hat held up a beautiful, rainbow-colored bird before a gawking group of three young students.
The images of people came and went, like collages of ordinary school scenes. But Harry didn't understand this. Who were these people and why were they appearing in the mirrors?
Then, the reflected outer door opened once more. Harry's eyes went wide when he saw...Professor Dumbledore walk through! The boy held a fixed gaze on the old wizard's image as he entered the hall and stopped. Harry wondered what the man was going to do.
"I see you've discovered the magic inside the mirrors," a voice chimed at the boy.
Harry turned and nearly jumped out of his skin to find the real Professor Dumbledore standing at his side - he wasn't just a reflection! The old man smiled as he moved toward one of the walls, gazing over its surface before turning to face Harry.
"Hello, sir," Harry spoke, wide-eyed at this first encounter with the formidable headmaster.
"Hello, Harry. I dare say it was about time you and I met, don't you think?"
Harry nodded. The man's smile deepened.
"I figured at some point you might find your way back here. And this is perhaps one of the best places in the castle we might have a private chat. So, I thought I'd join you."
"How did you know I was here?" Harry asked in wonder.
"You're not the only one who can make himself invisible, Harry. And as headmaster, it's one of my duties to know what's happening inside my school."
This concerned the boy. How much did the man actually know? But his comment suggested something else.
"You're the one who gave me my dad's invisibility cloak."
The headmaster smiled again.
"That I am. And I see you've been using it well," he stated with amusement.
Harry gulped. Did he know about his other secret escapades? But the wizard switched to another topic.
"So, young man, how have you found your experience at Hogwarts thus far?"
Harry thought back over the previous term.
"It's been...fascinating, and yet scary too. A lot has happened."
"Indeed, it has. Making Seeker on the Gryffindor Quidditch team your first day - quite impressive! And a fine performance during your first match despite the unfortunate turn of events."
"Thank you, sir."
"And I hear tell from your professors you're making decent progress in your classes. I also heard from Professor McGonagall that you and your friend Miss Granger have been practicing spells and charms outside of classes, on your own."
"Yes, sir. That's been really great. I've learned a lot from Hermione."
"I'm glad to hear it," Dumbledore said with a satisfied expression.
"Those with whom we associate can have an enormous impact on our lives, even if their presence seems trivial at first. It's important to pick your friends and companions carefully, wouldn't you agree?"
Harry nodded. The professor continued.
"The right ones may turn out to be our greatest friends and allies. The wrong ones, alas, could steer us in the wrong direction even with the best of intentions, as I discovered in my own youth...to my personal shame."
Dumbledore stood deep in thought for a moment, the recollection of some sad memory seeming to hold his attention. But then he stared at Harry as though seeing through the boy.
"I'm pleased you're eager to improve your skills, Harry. I would encourage you to continue doing so. Many students pass through these halls to get their marks and diplomas by doing merely what's expected of them. But for those who demonstrate extra proclivity with regard to the curriculum...well...let's just say, we are paying attention.
There's an old muggle saying I'm quite fond of: 'The squeaky wheel gets the grease'. I've always instructed my staff never to interfere in a student's life. But when a pupil demonstrates particular interest and talent, I encourage the faculty to help 'nudge' the student a bit further if possible. If you wish to apply yourself, Harry, I and my staff are willing to aid you. But ultimately, dear boy, what you make of yourself is up to you."
"Yes, sir," Harry responded with a humble expression and nod.
Dumbledore clasped his hands behind his back and slowly wandered around the center of the hall, gazing into the mirrored surfaces.
"A fine job, by the way, cleaning the hall. It's needed it for some time and after certain events transpired this past term, I thought it might be best to...reopen it."
Harry's curiosity kicked in.
"What exactly is this place?"
Dumbledore seemed to reflect on this question before answering.
"The Hall of Reflection was just an ordinary corridor for many years. Not long after I assumed duties as Transfiguration Professor, our Arithmancy Professor at the time, Mr. Elias Wentworth, offered to brighten up this popularly used hallway by installing these mirrors. Little did any of us know, however, that the man, who was a bit eccentric, had enchanted the mirrored surfaces."
"To do what?"
"To magically record, as it were, whatever events transpired in front of them. The people you see before you, Harry, are students, staff, and others who have entered or used this hall for various purposes over many years."
"So, it's kind of like a time capsule then, showing images from the past," Harry threw in while gazing at an entire group of Gryffindor students pass through in a hurry to some important destination.
"Well, yes, and...no."
"What do you mean?"
"Most of the images you see are indeed from the past. But it was rumored that the mirrors could also show images of events that have not yet occurred."
Harry's eyes went wide as he gazed at the man.
"You mean they can show the future?"
"Yes, Harry. Though I have never personally witnessed such reflections in the many times I've gazed into them."
"Do the images 'play back' in some sort of order?"
"No. From what I've observed, they seem to appear randomly. And apparently, the mirrors themselves decide this. In fact, it was also rumored that the mirrors would sometimes...'react' to those observing them and reveal things about the observer themselves."
Harry's face scrunched up at this curious thought.
"So, why was the hall closed then?"
"About a decade after the mirrors were installed, a terrible event occurred in this chamber which would replay in the mirrors every so often. It was so disturbing that Headmaster Fortescue had the hall permanently closed as a result. Besides, the auxiliary corridor improvements were finally completed by that time and made getting around this section of the castle much easier. These two particular corridors seemed..superfluous as a result..."
The professor's attention was suddenly riveted on two people entering the reflected hall.
"Ah! Why, there's Professor Gillings, an old colleague of mine who died many years ago!"
Harry followed the man's gaze to see a middle-aged, blond haired witch walking beside a much younger version of Dumbledore with light brown hair and not a strand of white. The boy was amazed.
"And now you see proof, Harry, that I was once young myself and wasn't born a white-haired old man as some of your fellow pupils seem to think."
Harry chuckled at this and Dumbledore smiled. But the eleven-year-old was curious over something.
"Sir, you mentioned that certain events during the previous term caused you to decide to reopen the hall. Would one of those events concern the Philosopher's Stone under the trapdoor in there?"
Dumbledore turned and gazed at Harry. At first, the boy thought the man might ream him out for "sticking his nose into something that didn't concern him", as Hagrid put it. But a smile crested on the wizard's face and Harry saw a slight gleam in the man's eyes.
"Smart boy! You and Miss Granger have indeed been doing your 'homework'!" the man said.
Harry's cheeks went pink.
"The answer to your question, Harry, is 'yes'. And since you have become aware of this business of the Stone, which belongs to my good friend Nicolas, I'll let you in on a little secret, with the understanding, of course, that this information remains between you, Hermione, and myself."
"Yes, sir," Harry replied with a solemn nod.
"Very well. When I became aware that someone was attempting to steal the Stone out of its vault at Gringott's, I had Hagrid, as I'm sure you know, retrieve it and bring it here for safe keeping. I decided to place it in a secure location beneath the trapdoor you and Miss Granger obviously discovered. I then had several of my staff devise a series of traps to guard the valuable object from anyone attempting to steal it from inside Hogwarts. And I hazard a guess that you've already met the first trap: Hagrid's three-headed pet."
Harry nodded, bewildered anyone would call that ferocious beast a 'pet'.
"I felt satisfied, Harry, that my friend's prized possession would be secure from all those...unworthy of finding it. But then something happened which changed my plans."
"What was that, sir?" Harry asked.
Dumbledore turned and stared at the door leading to the trapdoor corridor. He then seemed to stare off into space at nothing in particular.
"A shift of some kind appeared in the normal flow of things making itself known through unexpected events and odd coincidences here and there. When you've lived to be as old as I am, Harry, you easily notice such things. But as strange as this may sound, I'm at a loss to know exactly what has shifted. What I do know is that when things change, either for the good or the bad, we must change with them. And so I have. I figured the Hall of Reflection has some important use we are yet ignorant of and had it cleaned...just in case."
The professor looked at Harry once more to find puzzlement on the boy's face at these enigmatic words.
"You must forgive the ramblings of an old wizard, Harry, if my words seem strange to you. I admit to having my head in the clouds sometimes, to other's mystification. But when we are dealing with mysteries of the universe, sometimes the most logical path isn't the best path to take. And as to the nature of this 'shift', there is someone who I believe might have an answer and with whom I plan to consult in due time. But for the present, let me just say that if my instinct is correct, the change that has occurred will be revealed in a place most of us never look."
"Where is that?" Harry asked curiously.
Dumbledore smiled and pointed his finger at the ceiling.
"Up, my boy!" he stated with a chuckle.
Harry nodded at Dumbledore while smiling, though he still had no idea what the man was talking about. He had heard from several of his fellow pupils that the headmaster was a bit crazy. But at the least, Harry felt the old wizard might be such a genius that no ordinary witch or wizard could fully comprehend him...or his words. He was definitely fascinating, whatever the case.
"I'm sure you have many other questions for me Harry, and hopefully I can answer them for you in due course. But for now, I must bid you goodnight as it is past my bedtime. I no longer have the energy you do to stay up all hours if I wish."
Harry chuckled at this. Dumbledore continued.
"But I'll be glad to accompany you to the stairwell where you might ascend to Gryffindor Tower if you wish. That way, you won't need to wear your cloak. I'll be your excuse in the event we encounter our dear caretaker and his cat."
"That would be great, sir. Thank you," Harry told the man with a grin.
He followed behind the headmaster and they headed out of the Hall of Reflection.
~HP~
As Harry lay in bed that night, he thought back over Dumbledore's words. They were still strange, and he couldn't quite get his head around them. But the kid was convinced the headmaster knew much more than he let on and no doubt could see things ordinary folks were oblivious to. Harry indeed wanted to ask the man many more questions and also get his opinion on Professors Quirrell and Snape. Maybe the old wizard could provide answers as to what they were up to.
But Harry was also excited. Tomorrow, Hermione would be returning from her holiday break with her parents. Harry couldn't wait to tell her everything that had transpired and what the boy discovered about the killing curse, the unicorn, the cloaked figure, and even what Dumbledore revealed to him. No doubt the girl would be amazed.
Thoughts of these strange mysteries swirled in the boy's mind until he fell fast asleep...