The year was 1991 and The Mirror of Erised, as it had come to be known, had worked its way through hundreds of owners, witches, wizards, and muggles alike, almost all of whom had either wasted away in despair, or else gone completely mad with delirium. There was a select few who were able to resist the mirror's terrible power, but even they were unable to ultimately destroy it, for only Desire of the Endless, who had created it, could do that. The best anyone could hope to do to keep the mirror from wreaking havoc was to hide it away, but that was always only a temporary solution. Someone always found it.

Currently, though, it was being hidden at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry under the guard of the school's headmaster, Albus Dumbledore. Dumbledore was one of the most powerful wizards in the world and so he was very easily able to avoid the intoxicating allure of the mirror, which he had locked safely away in his office until he could come up with a more permanent solution. A couple of students had already stumbled upon the mirror in its original hiding place, an empty classroom, and it had had to be moved several times to places throughout the castle until finally Dumbledore realized the only truly safe place for it was with him.

As intelligent and resourceful as he was, Dumbledore still could not think of a way to get rid of the infernal thing once and for all, and so he paced the floor of his office each night, trying to come up with a solution. Minerva McGonagall, one of his teachers, had suggested that he turn the mirror over to the Ministry of Magic, so they could keep it in their Department of Mysteries. Dumbledore had shot down that idea quickly. He knew the ministry was full of ladder climbing bureaucrats who couldn't be trusted with the mirror anymore than a child could. No, for safety's sake the mirror needed to be taken out of the world for good. But how? Dumbledore frowned as he looked out of his office window and down at the school grounds below. It was a terrible burden to have to guard this mirror and the Philosopher's Stone both at the same time, but he knew that's what came with being the most powerful wizard in the world. He sighed a deep sigh and then went into his private chambers just off his office and climbed into his large, comfy bed. He sighed yet again and then said to himself, "Maybe something will come to me," before blowing out the candle on the nightstand next to him and drifting off to sleep.

Immediately Dumbledore found himself in a misty void. He felt solid ground beneath his feet, but he could not see it. He couldn't see anything but mist and darkness. Then a man came out of the darkness like he was made of it. His pale face was the only thing about him that wasn't pitch black. Most people would have probably found this person frightening, but Dumbledore greeted the man calmly.

"You are well met, dark stranger," said Dumbledore

"And you, Albus Dumbledore" said Dream.

"You know me?" asked Dumbledore.

"I know of you," said Dream. "I also know of the burden you bear."

"The Philosopher's Stone?" asked Dumbledore.

"The Mirror of Erised," said Dream.

"Ah yes," nodded Dumbledore. "Have you come to give me advice?"

"A solution," said Dream, coolly. "Give it to me."

"To you," asked Dumbledore in surprise. "Why?"

"It was made by one of my kind. Only we can handle it properly. It does not belong in the waking world where its lies pollute the fragile minds of my dreamers."

Dumbledore looked at this man, this being, and instinctively knew who he was, and then who had made the mirror, and then what the mirror's true purpose was. Realizations began to sprout in his mind like a spreading fungus, planted, no doubt, by Dream himself.

"Yes, yes, I know you are right," said Dumbledore, "But before I give it to you there is one more thing I must do with it. I believe I have just figured out how I can finally use it for a good purpose and relieve both of my burdens at once."

Dream looked skeptical at first, but he knew what was going through the old wizards mind. He was in his mind. He actually began to smile.

"Clever old man," he said. "Do what you must, but when you are done with it, return here and let me know."

"Where is here?" asked Dumbledore.

"The land of nod," said Dream.

Dumbledore suddenly woke up and it was morning. The sunlight streamed in through his bedroom windows. He sat up quickly and then hopped out of bed like a child on Christmas morning. He even did a little jump and kicked his heels. Then he grabbed his old arthritic hip and moaned with regret.

"Lots to be done," he said to himself with a twinkle in his eye. "Don't go crippling yourself, old boy."

Sometime later, Dream of the Endless sat again upon his throne in his large palace in The Dreaming. His sister, Death, once again entered the throne room and approached her brother. Nowadays she dressed in a black halter top and leather pants and wore a silver ankh around her neck.

"Desire is furious," she said with a smile.

"I don't doubt it," said Dream, evenly.

"So what changed your mind after all this time?" asked Death.

"Well, it's like you said so long ago, I didn't know what it was like to suffer. Now I do. Spending decades imprisoned in a magical cage, being able to see the world go on around me and not be a part of it... No one should have to sit and stare at the thing they want most and can't have."

Death laughed.

"Welcome to the world," she said to her brother. "So, what have you done with the mirror anyway?"

"It's being handled by someone who is far better at dealing with magical objects than even the greatest of wizards. A top man in his field," answered Dream.

"Who?" asked Death.

Her brother raised an eyebrow. "A top man," he said.

Far away from the palace, in the basement of a large, spooky house next to a cemetery, known to some as The House of Mystery, the house's caretaker, Cain, pushed the mirror, which was now covered with a drop cloth and resting on a metal dolly, down a long corridor filled with hundreds of other bits of junk and harmless looking items. Eventually he found the row he was looking for, turned, and pushed the mirror down it. And it was there, among so many other cursed and haunted bric-a-brac, that The Mirror of Erised finally found it's home. A home where it would no longer hurt or ensnare anyone anymore.

The End