Chapter 6: Mirror

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

He was looking at Harry as he spoke, clearly taunting the boy. Crabbe and Goyle, ever the loyal flunkies, chuckled. Harry determinedly ignored him, well aware that Malfoy was taunting him in retaliation for Slytherin's loss in the Quidditch match. Harry had caught the Golden Snitch, as expected, and Malfoy had been salty all week.

"Or, you know, they happen to be orphans?" I said, a hint of anger in my voice. Christmas had always been a special time for my family in my old life, and the period always brought about a period of homesickness in me. It would be accurate to say I wasn't in the best of moods right now.

Draco looked at me with widened eyes, and gave an apologetic half-shrug in response. The rest of Potions passed in an uncomfortable silence. Harry came to my station as I cleaned after the lessons were over, Hermione and Ron waiting by the door. We had all been spending a considerable amount of time - the four of us, all together - since the Troll incident. "You coming?" Harry asked. "We're all thinking about going to the library."

"Looking up Flamel?" I asked. Harry nodded, and I shook my head, "I can't. Got detention with Professor Snape, remember?"

"All through lunch?" Harry frowned. "Haven't you served enough time already?"

"I'm supposed to be working my last hour of detention off today - it being the last day before the holidays and all."

"Seems harsh," Harry grumbled.

I allowed myself a breath of laughter, "It's no bother. You three go enjoy yourselves. I'll catch up when I can. And hey, the holidays are all around the corner! We can all spend time together then."

The mention of the holidays seemed to brighten Harry's mood some, and he cheerily waved my goodbye as I set to scrubbing the cauldrons spotless for the seventh time that fortnight.

Honestly, hard labour from a child. And in the first world, no less!

If the wizarding world had proper courts, I would sue the shit out of them all.

Easiest win in history.

They did have courts, of course, but they were all staffed by wizards. And all the nutty kind, too. So no real courts, as far as I was concerned.

Not that I minded. The action of scrubbing was relaxing in many ways. Mindless drudgery gave one time to think, and more importantly, time to plan.

The hour flew by, and the growling of my stomach grew, though I ignored the urge to eat. Cauldron after cauldron passed through my hands, and by the time the hour was over, most the equipment was damn-near spotless. Professor Snape re-entered the classroom, inspecting my efforts with a keen eye, "Passable," he said.

"I think that's my detention over, Professor. I have a lesson soon, may I go?"

Snape scrutinised me with a keen eye, "You won't meet my eyes," he observed.

"You were the one who told me to be careful," I glibly retorted.

The Professor quirked an eyebrow, the tiniest of a ghost of a smile tugging at his otherwise impressively impassive features, "You are dismissed, Crawley. No more Gryffindor-ish antics. If you must insist on breaking the rules, at the very least, do it like a Slytherin."

Now, there was a thought. I nodded as I left, "Yes, Professor."

Once the holidays had started, the amount of fun and work I had increased in equal measure. Near every Slytherin had cleared out for the holidays, save for one Daphne Greengrass, and I found myself spending more and more time in the Gryffindor common room. The Slytherin common room was nearly barren in any case, so I didn't have much trouble leaving it behind.

Ron insisted on teaching us wizarding chess, only to discover that I was able to bring him to a draw almost every match. He was still a lot better than me, but having an adult mind inside a child's body did have it's advantages. The days flew by, divided between hours spent brushing up my knowledge in the library, having a laugh with the boys, and practicing my magic in the Room of Requirement. Christmas was fast approaching, and I pondered what to get them for gifts.

I would have to send something to Malfoy, of course. And Hermione as well. Ron and Harry were both easy enough to get presents for, and I wanted to get Daphne something too. She and I had gotten to know each other, with the absolute lack of anyone else to talk to.

I unfurled the letter, checking my Gringotts statement was in order. Arranged in neat little rows were my bank balances - on one column the figures in Galleons, Sickles and Knuts, and on the other in Pounds. It wasn't as much as I had liked, but it was certainly a healthy sum. In my other hand, I perused an Owl-order form.

Ultimately, I wound up spending precious little. The Room had a wealth of hidden things, and who would really notice if a few of the finer items were to wind up missing?

"Do you like it?" I asked.

Daphne adjusted the silver tiara on her head, diamonds freshly polished and sparkling, all framing a sizeable emerald at the centre of it all, "It is..." Daphne frowned as she looked in the mirror, "rather large. For a tiara, at least. Absolutely gorgeous of course, I wouldn't mean to seem dissatisfied."

And no, it wasn't Ravenclaw's Diadem, before you ask. I checked. I wasn't stupid enough to give away a Horcrux.

It was just some other tiara I found lying around, completely unenchanted.

Seriously, the Room of Requirement was full of missing crowns. Who loses a crown? How?

If I gathered them all and sold them, I didn't doubt I'd make a killing. So much jewellery.

I shrugged my shoulders, "I would rather you grow into it than grow out of it. Still, it's fit for one of the sacred twenty-eight such as yourself, wouldn't you say? I didn't know what to get someone who was so aristocratic, so I defaulted to... well, this."

Daphne gave me a rare smile, "It makes for a wonderful crown in the interim, no?"

"Yes, it does," I said, smiling. Jokingly, I declared, "You look positively radiant, Your Majesty."

Daphne offered a strangely girlish giggle, "Of course, my lord, of course." Then, her expression straightened, "I don't mean to sound ungrateful, of course, but might I ask why?"

I stood from my seat with a sigh, straightening my clothes as I prepared to leave, and shrugged, "You seem like a nice person."

"You seem like a strange person," she shot back. "Are you seeking a courtship?" she asked bluntly, "Or... something else? Some favour from my family, perhaps?"

And before you ask, no, I most certainly do not have romantic intention towards a twelve-year-old.

What kind of sick perverts are you anyways?

Just joking, I know you're the same kind as me.

I'll just wait till she's older.

Okay, that joke just made me shudder. That's enough with this tangent.

"No, not really. At least not at the moment," I shook my head. "We're both a little young for that kind of talk, don't you think?"

"I see," she said, a touch of disappointment colouring her tone.

"You know, that emerald is just the colour of your eyes," I observed. "I was right to think it would suit you."

Daphne blushed, and I left the Slytherin common room on Christmas day with spring in my step. Fun and games with friends, with possible the most delightful Christmas dinner I had since I left my family behind in the other world at the end of the day. There were a hundred fat, roast turkeys, though there weren't nearly enough people to eat them all. And so much more, besides. Boiled potatoes and buttered peas and silver boats filled with the thickest and creamiest gravy and the sweetest cranberry sauce man has ever seen.

For once, I ate like a normal human.

No sir, no squid or horse or badger for me today. Turkey it was, and till I was stuffed.

And the dinner was fun as well as filling. I sat amongst the Weasleys, them having overcome any bad feeling on account of my house weeks ago, and Fred and George delighted in making wonderful mischief. Harry and Ron thanked me for their gifts, and I could see the two of them shooting each other looks as the dinner progressed.

That night, I slept like a log. A few nights later, however, I most certainly did not.

"Psst," someone whispered. "Wake up."

I opened my eyes to a shock of black hair, "Harry? You know this is the Slytherin dorms, yes?"

Harry rolled his eyes, "I know. I wanted to show you something. Come on!"

I hurriedly dressed, throwing on a Weasley jumper that had been kindly sent to me by Ron's mother yesterday. I stepped outside the dorm, and Harry revealed himself, a lone head floating seemingly without any support, "Invisibility cloak?" I questioned. "When did you get that?"

"Long story," Ron said, poking his head sullenly out from under the cloak as Harry gestured for me to join them.

I clambered under the cloak, which was a tight fit with the three of us all underneath it, "Oi, watch where you keep your elbows!" Ron whispered.

"You're the one who said I should show Matt," Harry retorted. "It's not my fault we can't all fit properly."

"Quiet," I hissed. "Cloak might make us invisible, but it doesn't make us silent."

Together, making far more noise than was wise, we made our way through the library. Ron shivered, "I told you I have a bad feeling about this, Harry. We've had too many close shaves already. Filch, Snape and Mrs Norris are all wandering around."

"You want to turn back now?" Harry asked as we stopped before a door and Harry twisted open the knob to reveal a grand mirror, "When we're already here?"

Ron sighed, "Quickly, then."

Harry walked up to the mirror and sank down to sit on the floor before the mirror. His hand touched the surface of the mirror almost lovingly. Ron, in spite of his supposed hesitance to stay away from the mirror, could not help but be entranced by the vision it presented. He stood there with a goofy grin on his face.

That was strange.

Was it just me, or was the Mirror of Erised... broken?

I looked into it, squinting my eyes, only to see myself, stood in my pyjamas with a sweater pulled over the top. I looked around, and saw the slightest shimmer in the corner of the room on top of one of the desks, offered it a wink - just to mess with his head, you see - and turned back to scrutinise the mirror.

Was it my soul? The mirror showed one's heart's greatest desire. But hearts don't have desires, save to keep on pumping, so was it simply a metaphor for the immortal soul? If so, then what did that mean? Could the mirror not detect souls from another universe, or was something wrong with mine?

And if that was the case, what about other soul magic?

Was I, for example, immune or resistant to the killing curse?

Okay, bad example, but how about the Fidelius charm, then? Could I use that? What about Dementors? Was I immune to their kiss?

Or maybe it was something else entirely? I couldn't really be that happy, could I? I mean, I still pined for my old family, did I not? Why couldn't I see them?

This wasn't very conducive to my plans. How was I supposed to steal the stone if I couldn't use the mirror?

And then, a whispery trace of an ethereal warmth passed through me. Like an embrace, with hints of all my family thrown in. A momentary impression I could not comprehend for very long before my train of thought was interrupted.

"So - back again, are we?"

Both Harry and Ron blanched, turning back to look at the voice. "I- I didn't see you, sir."

"Strange how short-sighted being invisible can make you, " Dumbledore said, twirling his beard. "You three, like hundreds before you, have discovered the delights of the Mirror of Erised."

"I didn't know it was called that, sir," Harry stammered out.

"But you know by now what it does, yes?"

Harry shook his head.

"Well, 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 the mirror and see himself as himself. Does that help?"

"The clue's in the name," I muttered.

Harry looked at me, "It shows us what we want," he said quietly. "Whatever we want..."

"Yes and no," Dumbledore said. Then, he proceeded to explain the mirror to the three of us, "This mirror will give us neither knowledge no truth. Men have wasted away before it, entranced by what they have seen, or quietly driven mad, not knowing if what it shows is real or even possible."

Ron stared up at the Headmaster with wide eyes.

"The mirror will be moved to a new home tomorrow, and I ask that none of you three go looking for it again. If you ever do cross it's path, you will now be prepared. It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget what is real. Now, why don't you two put on that admirable cloak and get off to bed?"

"Not me?" I asked.

"No, Matthew. You have a different dorm than the other two, and so I will take you."

"Sir – Professor Dumbledore?" Harry interjected. "Can I ask you something?"

"Obviously, you've just done so," Dumbledore smiled. "You may ask me one more thing, however."

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

"I? I see myself holding a pair of thick, woollen socks." Harry stared. "One can never have enough socks," said Dumbledore. "Another Christmas has come and gone and I only got a single pair from young Matthew here. People will insist on giving me books."

And with that, Harry and Ron disappeared behind the cloak, the door swung open, the pair of them slipped out, and then the door shut behind them. Dumbledore turned to me, and brandished his wand, "I'm about to cast an invisibility charm on you, Matthew. It will feel quite strange - don't worry, that's quite normal."

He tapped my head with the tip of his wand, and a cold sensation spread over my body, like he had cracked an egg over me. We left the room, walking in silence to the dungeons and eventually to the entrance to the Slytherin common room. He stopped just short of it, turning to face me, "How did you know, Matthew, that I was there?"

"Shimmer in the air, sir. Extremely subtle but not, ironically enough, invisible."

"I'm impressed - I would have thought your attention would have been ensnared by the mirror."

I shrugged, "I didn't see anything but my own reflection, sir. Wasn't very entrancing."

Dumbledore quirked an eyebrow, "Well, I must congratulate you, then. It is a rare thing to be so happy."

"That's the thing, Professor - I'm not."

"Then how did you know what the mirror did?" Dumbledore questioned.

I offered him a sad smile as I climbed through the portrait hole, "The same way, sir, that I know that you don't see socks."

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