Menteur
Chapter 19: The Mirrors Never Lie
November 25th, 1943 – A week after Grindelwald's defeat
Hermione sighed for the fiftieth time that evening, as another admirer enthusiastically shook Dumbledore's hand and spewed another load of their never-ending gratitude and appraisal into the wizard's face.
The Great Hall was filled with laughter and merriment, hundreds of candles lit the magical ceiling into the bright colors of setting sun and everyone present was happily chatting the night away. The long mahogany table in far back of the room, where teachers usually ate, was replaced by an enormous periwinkle blue banner, which showed a portrait smiling Dumbledore and a word "hero" printed in bold, capital letters below. Students' tables were also removed in favor of Dumbledore-themed decorations and snack bars, while the center of the hall temporarily served as a make-do dance floor for the party attendees.
Hermione watched Dumbledore's forced smile waver as a large gift box was pushed into his arms by a snobbish-looking Ministry official, who excitedly waved to the Daily Prophet's press assembly. Unfortunately, the man of the hour did not seem to enjoy the celebration very much. All things considered, it was actually unsurprising, Hermione figured. This event was organized to celebrate Dumbledore's mighty victory over a war criminal and the darkest wizard of the century, Gellert Grindelwald. From the future, she knew that Grindelwald and Dumbledore were once friends, and even though she wasn't sure of the depth of the feelings, from Dumbledore's expression it was obvious that Gellert's defeat and subsequent imprisonment was not the desired outcome.
She wasn't quite sure what occurred between the two friends once Grindelwald's spell knocked her unconscious, but the school nurse told her that when Dumbledore'd brought her into the Hospital Wing, he was barely holding himself upright. That was nearly a week ago. Since then, she heard many stories describing the battle, some little more imaginative than others. She'd even overheard Nott telling Septimus that Riddle was quite upset to miss such important event as he did not have a guardian signed permit to visit Hogsmeade. To be honest, she haven't seen much of young Voldemort since the legilimency incident few weeks ago. After forcefully exposing Riddle's personal memories, she expected a retaliation, but it was almost like Riddle has shun away from her. She had barely seen him outside of the Dueling practice…
Her eyes drifted to where most of the Slytherins gathered in a corner, and naturally Tom Riddle was between them. As opposed to others, he did not seem one bit interested in the big celebration or friendly chatter. He sat comfortably at one of the tables, a heavy looking book in front of him, reading. From her position, Hermione could only make out the title: Potions Made Easy. She frowned. Firstly, she has NEVER heard of a book with that particular title- it sounded almost too muggle for a potion book- and, secondly, beginner potions were way below Riddle's level of knowledge. So, why would he be reading it?
Still pondering Voldemort's sudden interest in 1st year literature, her eyes moved along the group until they met Malfoy heir, staring right back at her. The blonde's lips curved the slightest bit as he lifted his glass to her in greeting. Nervously, she smiled back.
Something changed, she could tell. Ever since the battle with Grindelwald, Abraxas acted differently towards her, more serious, even more proper. When she first woke up in the Infirmary, to her surprise and nurses' great dismay, her bed and nightstand were flooded with crimson-red roses to the point that she could barely walk to the bathroom without stepping on some. Courtesy of young Master Malfoy, said the nurse annoyed as she had to step over some so she could hand Hermione her medicine. Indeed, the young man came to visit her every day, asking her if she was feeling better and demanding that she tells him if she needed something. Few other people came to visit her as well, including Septimus, Minerva and Dorea, but those visits were short and formal. On the last day of her stay in the hospital wing, Abraxas came to visit her with a whole group of their friends. Hermione was bit puzzled to find Letitica missing. As Malfoy's fiancé, she was always at Abraxas' side, quiet and supportive like a good future wife. In truth, Hermione was a bit afraid that Letitica had found out about their little love affair and caused a scene. So far this long-term liaison was kept secret, but Hermione was pretty sure Septimus and Cygnus knew or at least suspected. But nobody mentioned anything, so she assumed the Slyherin girl had other reasons for her absence, and more importantly, that her secrets stayed secrete. As the group was getting ready to leave and let her rest, Abraxas'd stood up and as gentlemanly as ever took her hand in his and kissed it. Then out of nowhere, he had asked her if she would visit him at the Malfoy Manor during the winter holiday. As soon as the question left his mouth, Belvina and Dorea gasped simultaneously, while Thaddeus almost choked on some chocolate he was eating. Cygnus was the only one who did not appear to be that surprised, but still raised his eyebrow questioningly. Not quite understanding their obvious surprise, Hermione politely replied that it depends whether Headmaster Dippet permits her to leave Hogwarts, to which Abraxas smiled brightly and left the Hospital Wing like nothing had happened.
Shaking her head at the puzzling memories, she lazily waved at Abraxas and slowly moved towards the spot where Dumbledore stood just a seconds ago. She figured she should also give her appraisal to the hero. Unfortunately for her, the older wizard was no longer in the presence of attention-seeking Ministry employees. Quickly, she scanned the area for any signs of him, but found nothing. Just as she was about to give her search up, she noticed a blur of bright orange disappearing through the nearby exit at the edge of her peripheral vision. Hastily, yet still trying to keep some level of nonchalance, she sat down the cup of pumpkin juice she was holding onto ever since the event started and swiftly headed after Dumbledore.
It took a bit of looking but she have finally found him in one of the adjacent rooms, alone, standing in front of a familiar glassy surface of the Mirror of Erised. Almost all window curtains in the room were pulled shut, allowing only minimum of moonlight to reach the stone floor, embracing the whole space in darkness and offering peaceful solace to anyone who might wish it.
Quietly shutting the door behind her, Hermione took a few steps forward until she stood shoulder to shoulder with the wizard.
"Professor Dumbledore." She spoke softly, as if attempting to cause as little disturbance in the stillness that enveloped them as possible.
His eyes focused on the reflective surface, he responded: "Yes?"
Dumbledore's voice sounded so hollow and defeated, Hermione's heart broke just hearing it and for a moment she weighed her options. She could simply pretend not to notice, express her admiration and leave. Conversely, she could stay and comfort the man that will one day become one of her personal heroes and idols.
She let a soft sigh escape her lips. The decision was made before she even considered all the options.
"I am really sorry…" she whispered, unsure of her own words. Lightly as a feather, she put her hand on his robed arm. She could see his pain-filled eyes drift off of the mirror onto the floor, probably wishing her gone. She swallowed thickly.
"I know how hard it is to have to fight against somebody who was once dear to you."
Instantly, Dumbledore's eyes shot open and his head finally turned to face her. The crystal clear blue orbs met hers with a unexpected force, but she did not waver, opening her mind and showing her honest emotions for him to see. If he chose to probe her mind right now he could easily see everything- the past, the present and the future, but for some unknown reason, he chose not to. His expression softened, no longer speaking of hostility and distrust, only sadness. His gaze returned to the mirror and Hermione let her hand fall back to her side. For the first time since she walked into the room, she allowed herself to look at the mirror. She had to admit, she was scared to look and even more terrified of what she might see. The last time she looked onto the mirrored plane was almost seven years ago; she was sixteen then and saw herself getting married to Ron and accepting the position of Minister of Magic. She was so naïve then. Unwanted tears stung at the corners of her eyes at the memory. Where did the time go? What would she see now? Would it be Draco, Harry, or something entirely different? She was scared of the answer…
"I show not your face, but your heart's deepest desire." She read the inscription out loud. Not willing to face the silent professor, she kept her eyes on the carved wooden frame.
"Do you see him in the mirror?" she whispered. "Grindelwald, I mean." She added for clarity.
"yes." Answered Dumbledore just as quietly as she. His hand moved to touch crystal surface, but stopped mere millimeter away. Then it fell back to his side. There was a pause.
"Tell me, Miss Durand," Hermione cringed at hearing her fake name said with such trust, but waited patiently nevertheless: "do you know the concept of geminos voluntatem?"
Quickly going through the very shallow well of Latin knowledge she had acquired over the years, Hermione guessed: "Does it have to do with twins and free will?"
"Yes and no," answered the professor cryptically and the corners of his mouth shot upwards.
"The correct translation would be 'twins by will', I believe." He declared softly, tilting his head forward to better see the reflection in the mirror. His half-moon shaped glasses slid down his nose, so he carefully pushed them back up.
"This concept has been declared 'too falsifiable' by the United Council of Wizardry in 1765, so it isn't surprising that you haven't heard of it." He smiled gently and continued: "The basic idea is that each wizard or a witch is born with their own pool of source magic from which they draw to perform spells and charms."
"Yes, the theory of Infinite Magic Sourcing. Nicholas Flannel has written an essay explaining how different people leave different imprints when performing wandless spells…" nodded Hermione, letting her inner bookworm show.
Dumbledore nodded: "Right you are. Geminos voluntatem builds on this. It claims that, rarely, two wizards belong to the same source magic pool, making them, magically speaking, like two exact copies."
"So, was-uh…was Gellerd Grindelwald your gemini voluntatem?"
A sad smile appeared on older man's face and his shoulders sunk: "Unfortunately, he was not."
"Unfortunately, sir?" asked Hermione, confused wrinkle appearing between her eyebrows.
"For years, I've been hoping that he is. I was hoping that it would allow me to deal with his obsessive nature. That it would allow me to deal with this so that it wouldn't end as it has…" his voice trailed off and there was another pause.
"How did you know? How did you know that it he wasn't connected to you?" the witch hated to pry on his privacy but her curiosity got the best of her.
"The Mirror" he stated simply, pointing to the smooth glass in front of them, this time letting his fingers brush the surface.
Hermione followed his motion, unconvinced: "How could the mirror tell?"
"The mirror, just like any other magical object, creates the image you see based on your magical markers and it therefore cannot distinguish between geminos voluntatem. Were Gellerd to have the same magic imprint, I would not see my own reflection, but his."
Hermione nodded in understanding.
"So what exactly does it mean to have a gemini voluntatem?"
"That is indeed the million dollar question, Miss Durand" smiled Dumbledore: "Since it is so rare occurrence, no professionally supervised study was ever conducted, so the resources to answer your question are limited at best. There are, however, few preserved notes from people who believed to have such experience." He paused to look at her.
"Most describe it as literality being able to read each other's mind without any use of magic or bending each other's control of the magic…. Some even say that they were able to transport objects between themselves, but that might be a little farfetched."
Hearing this, Hermione started to feel sick. All the things Dumbledore just described seemed way too familiar to her, way too close to home. But that was impossible, her mind screamed. Could HE be her gemini voluntatem? Was it even real? All the symptom- everything- was there, right in front of her. Her heart pounded in her ears, stress finally taking over.
"Would you like to take a look, Miss Durand?" asked Dumbledore, catching her disbelievingly staring at the magical mirror, and before she could refuse, the older wizard had already stepped aside and let her gracefully in front of the object.
Hermione took a deep breath and forced her eyes to open, but instead of her own amber eyes in the reflection, she found an obsidian-colored ones staring right back. Suppressing the urge to cry out, the young witch took a good look at the image presented. A perfect replica of young Tom Riddle stood where her own reflection should be. His charcoal hair fell unkempt over his eyes, ends just barely brushing the sharp curve of his perfectly sculptured, pale cheekbones. Just like herself, he was dressed in proper formal attire with only one exception- his usual tie of green and silver was gone and replaced by a plain black one. Hesitantly, the witch watched as Riddle's arm risen in synchronization with her own, fingers stretched forward in anticipation of meeting at the threshold of the mirror plane. When her palm finally landed on the surface, reaching Tom's, she really expected something to happen- surge of magic, feeling of darkness to overtake her soul, anything to signal that this was mere magic playing tricks on her….But nothing happened. Nothing. Young Voldemort's image was just as still as she.
"Is..is the mirror always true?" she could barely force the words past her lips, because in all honesty, she knew the answer already. The Mirror never lies.
Dumbledore sighed and gently squeezed her shoulder: "Do not dwell on what you see, miss Durand. After all, some of the things the mirror shows can never be achieved."
Startled Hermione could only hope Dumbledore can see the gratitude she felt towards him. For fighting the foes, for saving Harry, for helping her.
The music coming from the Great Hall suddenly slowed to a steady tempo of waltz and Dumbledore's eyes sparkled with mirth: "Ah, I believe the last dance of the night is starting." Then he turned to Hermione, offering her his arm like a true gentleman: "Would you do me the honor and join me for this dance, Miss Durand?"
And with that they walked out of the small room, leaving the mirror locked in an empty room, away from prying eyes.
TBC
A/N: I don't know if it is good, but it was tons of fun writing it :)