To say it took a lot of convincing to get Sirius to go home without finding out what had happened during the match was an understatement.
"Sirius I swear I will be fine," Harry said, "everyone is watching Snape extra closely now, he can't try and pull anything."
Sirius looked at Harry hesitantly. They were sitting in an unused office, with big squishy armchairs, and a single desk.
"Sirius if I can take down a mountain troll, I can handle Snape," Harry said.
Remus did not find the joke funny at all, and Harry believed he was lucky not to have been grounded for the entirety of Christmas break.
"I still don't like it," Sirius said looking at Remus, his face twisted with doubt, leaning forward in the armchair rubbing his face in his hands. "If Snape has the guts to jinx Harry's broom in front of the entire school, with Dumbledore and McGonagall sitting behind him, then what is going to stop him from trying something again?"
"Sirius we don't even know it was for sure Snape," Remus said.
Sirius looked at Remus, looking like he was annoyed with having to argue the obvious. "A Nimbus Two Thousand doesn't just randomly start trying to throw off its rider."
"I still think we should have the broom taken for testing. Make sure there isn't any dark magic at play here," Remus suggested.
"Why?" Sirius said with a small careless wave of his hand "McGonagall bought Harry the broom, according to her she bought it at Broomstix in Diagon Alley, brought it back, then wrapped it and sent it with Hedwig. Where it has been with Harry. Not to mention he has practiced for hours without any problems."
Harry looked between the two with a small sigh. None of this was doing anything to help him feel better. "Whoever jinxed my broom, isn't going to try anything so soon after the match. Everyone is on edge as it is, and watching for anything weird. I will be fine Sirius, really."
Sirius looked at Harry with a small hesitant frown, before finally nodding. "I guess we should go then."
Remus looked at Sirius, then at Harry. Getting to his feet he wrapped Harry in a tight hug. "You be good. Do you hear me? I am serious." He pulled away leaning down a little to make sure Harry was looking at him in the eyes. "No more trying to take on mountain trolls, or sneaking around the halls in the middle of the night. Not until we find out for sure what happened during the match."
Harry looked at him nodding "I will try Remus, promise."
"That is not very convincing," Remus said with a small smile.
Harry turned to Sirius next. Who wrapped him in a tight hug.
"If you need anything, anything at all, you send us an owl," Sirius said placing his hand on the back of Harry's head in a comforting-fatherly way.
Harry nodded pulling away after a moment, looking up at his godfather with a bright smile. "I will. See you at Christmas."
"Yes," Sirius said in agreement.
Harry walked with them to the front doors. When they headed off into the blizzard outside, he headed off to the Gryffindor Tower to meet up with Neville, Ron, and Hermione.
. . . .
Christmas was definitely coming. By mid-December, Hogwarts was blanketed with nearly twenty feet of snow. The lake froze solid and the Weasley twins were punished for bewitching several snowballs so that they followed Quirrell around, bouncing off the back of his turban. The few owls that managed to battle their way through the stormy sky to deliver mail had to be nursed back to health by Hagrid before they could fly off again.
No one could wait for the holidays to start. The Gryffindor common room and the Great Hall had roaring fires, and the drafty corridors had become icy as a bitter wind rattled the windows in the classrooms. Worst of all were Professor Snape's classes down in the dungeons, where their breath rose in a mist before them and they kept as close as possible to their hot cauldrons.
The only good thing about Snape's classes was the absence of the extra essays and the rise in Harry's grades. Ever since the match, Snape seemed to think he needed to take it easy on how he treated Harry.
Although the sentiment was not shared by Draco Malfoy. Who spent the first potions lesson after the game trying to get everyone laughing at how a wide-mouthed tree frog would be replacing Harry as Seeker next. Then he realized that nobody found this funny. In fact, everyone shared in the opinion that Harry was the best Seeker in a century, all of them amazed at how Harry had not only managed to stay on his bucking broomstick, and then also, caught the Snitch. Malfoy was rather disgusted that the Slytherins had lost. Although, his jealousy and anger were just perfect.
Harry was even more excited to find out that Ron would be spending the Christmas break at Kings Cross Apartment. His parents were going to visit his older brother Charlie. Neville and Hermione had both promised that they would come to spend the last couple of days of the holidays at the apartment.
When they left the dungeons at the end of potions on the last day before break, they found a large fir tree blocking the corridor ahead. Two enormous feet sticking out at the bottom and a loud puffing sound told them that Hagrid was behind it.
"Hi, Hagrid, want any help?" Ron asked, sticking his head through the branches.
"Nah, I'm all right, thanks, Ron."
"Would you mind moving out of the way?" came Malfoy's cold drawl from behind them. "Are you trying to earn some extra money, Weasley? Hoping to be gamekeeper yourself when you leave Hogwarts, I suppose — that hut of Hagrid's must seem like a palace compared to what your family's used to."
Ron dived at Malfoy, and Harry was ready to defend his friend if he needed it, he whipped out his wand. Lucky them though Snape came up the stairs right at that moment.
"Weasley!"
Ron let go of the front of Malfoy's robes with a glare.
"He was provoked, Professor Snape," said Hagrid, sticking his huge hairy face out from behind the tree. "Malfoy was insultin' his family."
Snape glanced at Hagrid, then turned his gaze on Harry with a small frown. "Potter, Weasley, a warning to you both. Now move along, all of you."
Harry couldn't help but feel amusement rush through him at the look of bewilderment that crossed Malfoy's face. Looking rather upset that they had not even got points taken from Gryffindor."
When Malfoy and Snape were out of earshot, Ron turned to Harry. His teeth ground in anger "one of these days, I'm going to get him."
"I hate them," Harry said in agreement "Malfoy and Snape."
"Come on, cheer up, it's nearly Christmas," said Hagrid. "Tell yeh what, come with me an' see the Great Hall, looks a treat."
Harry looked at him, and when the other three had agreed. He followed after Hagrid. Passing into the Great Hall they found where Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick were busy with the Christmas decorations.
"Ah, Hagrid, the last tree — put it in the far corner, would you?"
The hall looked spectacular. Festoons of holly and mistletoe hung all around the walls, and no less than twelve towering Christmas trees stood around the room, some sparkling with tiny icicles, some glittering with hundreds of candles.
"How many days you got left until yer holidays?" Hagrid asked.
"Just one," said Hermione. "And that reminds me — Harry, Ron, Neville, we've got half an hour before lunch, we should be in the library."
"Oh yeah, you're right," Neville said, tearing his eyes away from Professor Flitwick, who had golden bubbles blossoming out of his wand and was trailing them over the branches of the new tree.
"The library?" said Hagrid, following them out of the hall. "Just before the holidays? Bit keen, aren't yeh? I thought Snape stopped assigning yeh those extra assignments Harry."
"He did, this isn't homework," Harry told him, looking up at him with a bright, nearly smirking smile. "Ever since you mentioned Nicolas Flamel we've been trying to find out who he is."
"You, what?" Hagrid looked shocked. "Listen here — I've told yeh — drop it. It's nothin' to you what that dog's guardin'. Harry, I know Sirius and Remus said for ya to stay outta trouble."
"This isn't trouble, Hagrid," Harry said with a small wave of his hand "it's research."
"Yeah," Hermione said. "We just want to know who Nicolas Flamel is, that's all."
"Unless you'd like to tell us and save us the trouble?" Harry added with an encouraging smile. "We must've been through hundreds of books already and we can't find him anywhere — just give us a hint — I know I've read his name somewhere."
"I'm sayin' nothin'," said Hagrid flatly.
"Ah well, if Harry has read it somewhere that limits the books down far enough already," Ron said with a small smile and tease.
Harry looked at him with a shake of his head giving him a small punch in the arm "hey."
"Come on," Neville said, they left Hagrid looking disgruntled and hurried off to the library.
They had indeed been searching books for Flamel's name ever since Hagrid had let it slip, because how else were they going to find out what Snape was trying to steal? The trouble was, it was very hard to know where to begin, not knowing what Flamel might have done to get himself into a book. He wasn't in Great Wizards of the Twentieth Century, or Notable Names of our Time; he was missing, too, from Important Modern Magical Discoveries, and A Study of Recent Developments in Wizardry. And then, of course, there was the sheer size of the library; tens of thousands of books; thousands of shelves; hundreds of narrow rows.
Hermione took out a list of subjects and titles she had decided to search, Neville and Ron wandered up and down the rows pulling books off shelves at random. Harry wandered over to the Restricted Section. He had been wondering for a while if Flamel wasn't somewhere in there. Unfortunately, you needed a special signed note from one of the teachers to look in any of the restricted books, and he knew he'd never get one. These were the books containing powerful Dark Magic never taught at Hogwarts and only read by older students studying advanced Defence Against the Dark Arts. Harry didn't know any professors that would be willing to sign his note. Maybe Professor McGonagall if he was willing to tell her exactly why. But he was sure if she mentioned that Harry was looking in the Restricted Section to Remus, he would have lots of explaining to do.
"What are you looking for, boy?"
"Ah, nothing," Harry said.
Madam Pince the librarian brandished a feather duster at him.
"You'd better get out, then. Go on — out!"
Wishing he'd been a bit quicker at thinking up some story, Harry left the library. He, Ron, Neville and Hermione had already agreed they'd better not ask Madam Pince where they could find Flamel. They were sure she'd be able to tell them, but they couldn't risk Snape hearing what they were up to. After all, he had already tried to kill Harry just simply after he had caught sight of his injuries.
Harry waited outside in the corridor to see if the other three had found anything, but he wasn't very hopeful. They had been looking for two weeks, after all, but as they only had odd moments between lessons it wasn't surprising they'd found nothing. What they really needed was a nice long search without Madam Pince breathing down their necks.
Five minutes later, Ron, Neville, and Hermione joined him, shaking their heads, and so they set off for lunch.
"We will have to just keep looking, after break," Hermione said.
"I still don't get why you don't just ask Sirius or Remus if they've heard of Flamel, you could say it was for a History of Magic lesson," Ron said.
"Remus would be rather suspicious of that," Harry said. "If we needed to do an essay for History of Magic, then he would be in our textbook. Besides, what if they know exactly what is going on, I'm not ready to tell them about everything. Sirius is already stressed out enough as it is."
"Not like we could tell that from his daily letters," Neville said with a small frown, patting Harry's shoulder.
"It's always been bad when I get hurt," Harry said as they scaled another staircase. "For both him and Remus. You should have been there when I nearly broke my skull open as a kid. I think it's all the pressure they put on themselves, they feel like they are failing my father when they let me get hurt. It's why I think Remus doesn't like me talking about Voldemort. And I have to be careful what I ask them because they did all this sort of searching around, getting into trouble. They know all the tricks."
. . . .
Harry woke the day after the start of break in the bunk bed that remained in his bedroom. The twin bed had been replaced with a couch. Turning onto his back he stared up at the bottom of the top bunk, looking around his room.
The smell of pancakes was wafting in from the kitchen.
"Oh, good you are awake," Ron said from the couch "I didn't want to head out for breakfast, alone."
Harry slowly sat up stretching slowly. Getting to his feet he threw on a sweatshirt before the two boys headed out to the kitchen.
Remus looked over at the boys as they made their way into the kitchen "good morning. Ron, did you have a good sleep? Where you warm enough? I just realized I had forgotten to set out an extra blanket in case you were cold."
"No I was warm," Ron said assured him sliding into a seat. Looking a little apprehensive at the pancakes. Perhaps he had heard enough stories of Remus' cooking from Harry.
"Don't worry," Harry said with a small smile and laugh, sliding into the chair next to him. "Remus makes really good pancakes, my Mum taught him."
Harry's reassurance seemed to be enough for Ron, who took two pancakes and began to eat.
"How was the rest of the term?" Sirius asked looking at Harry. Folding up the copy of the daily prophet he had been reading placing it out of the way.
"Quiet," Harry said, "Snape stopped assigning me extra assignments, and my potions mark has gone up a lot."
"He's probably afraid Sirius will set his only cloak back on fire," Ron said as he gulped down some orange juice.
Sirius glanced at Ron with a small shrug and laugh "as he should be."
. . . .
The holidays were so good that Harry and Ron found it easy to forget about Flamel. The holidays were always a joyful time, especially at Harry's apartment. A large tree, so large in fact that the top branch was bent so the star could fit, sat in the corner. A wreath hung from each door. Lights hung over the fireplace.
It was always busy at Christmas time, Andromeda and Tonks came over almost every night. Which Ron was all too happy about as they made sure to restock the cookie jar each time they came over.
Remus and Sirius took Harry and Ron to a large open field a couple of days to play Quidditch. When they were frozen solid they returned to the apartment, where Ron was beginning to help Harry with his chess-playing abilities.
Ron grinned as he defeated him again.
Harry shook his head "Remus tried to teach me lots when I was younger, eventually, he and I both gave up."
"No don't give up, I like being able to beat you so easily," Ron said with a grin.
Harry shook his head with a small sigh, turning his gaze down to the chess pieces. It didn't help that the chessmen didn't trust him at all, they seemed to pick up that he was a terrible player. They kept shouting different bits of advice at him, which only added to his struggle. "Don't send me there, can't you see his knight? Send him, we can afford to lose him."
"Shut it," Harry murmured as he debated his next move.
As the evening drifted on, Sirius started a fire and they roasted marshmallows and drank hot chocolate. Ron managed to bug Sirius long enough to tell him all sorts of stories from his work with the Auror office.
This Christmas break was shaping out to be the best Harry could remember. On Christmas Eve, Harry went to bed looking forward to the next day. The feast that Andromeda would be preparing, the fun, and of course presents. He was woken rather early by Ron, nudging him.
"Happy Christmas, Harry," said Ron when Harry finally turned on his back.
"Happy Christmas, Ron," Harry said. Getting to his feet he leads Ron out to the living room.
Sirius smiled up over the newspaper, setting it down, along with his cup of tea. He got to his feet greeting Harry with a hug. "Happy Christmas, my dear boy."
"Happy Christmas," Harry said, before turning to Remus and returning his hug as well.
Ron had already sat down near the fireplace, taking a cookie from the plate on the coffee table. Harry walked over to the armchair sitting down.
With a small wave of his wand, Remus arranged the presents for each boy in a pile next to them. A couple zoomed over to Sirius and another couple landed next to where he had been sitting on the couch.
"Ron, as our guest, why don't you open a present first?" Remus suggested as he sat back down.
Ron nodded "yeah, alright." He said picking up the top parcel in his pile, it was wrapped in thick brown paper. Pulling up the tab "oh it's from Hagrid." Pulling the package open, he found a roughly cut wooden flute. It looked like Hagrid had whittled it himself. "Oh this is cool," Ron said spinning it in his hand, before he blew it, it sounded a bit like an owl.
Harry turned to his own pile finding a similarly wrapped package. Grabbing it he tore it open finding a similar flute inside.
"It looks like he made them," Remus said with a small smile "you will have to thank him when you see him next."
Harry nodded in agreement.
"Oh no," Ron said having looked up from the flute at Harry's stack of presents.
"What?" Harry asked looking at him in confusion.
Ron turned a bit pink, pointing at a very lumpy parcel, "I think my mum, sent you a Weasley sweater." He turned to Sirius and Remus' piles too where two more similarly wrapped packages laid.
Harry turned to the parcel, pulling it from the pile. Tearing it open. Inside he found a hand-knitted sweater in emerald green and a large box of homemade fudge.
"Every year she makes us a sweater, you see," said Ron, unwrapping his own, "and mine's always maroon."
Harry smiled as he tore off a piece of fudge giving it a try. "That is really nice of her," he said looking up at Ron. "Will you remind me to send a letter to thank her?"
Ron nodded "yeah sure."
Harry turned to watch Sirius and Remus both unwrap their gifts from Mrs. Weasley. He found it amusing that Remus, who had got a navy blue one, was quick to pull his on, while Sirius, who had been gifted a gold-coloured one, set his off on the couch.
From Hermione, he and Ron received a large box of Chocolate Frogs, from Neville Harry and Ron received an invisible ink quill. From Remus he and Ron each received tickets to an upcoming Holyhead Harpies game.
When Ron opened the gift his mouth dropped open "blimey, thank you! Thank you!"
"Course," Remus said looking at Harry "I sent one each to Hermione and Neville too."
Harry nodded with a smile. "Thanks, Remus." From Sirius, Harry got a new pair of Quidditch gloves, goggles, and undershirt to help keep him warm during the colder games. Sirius had gotten Ron a signed poster from the Cannons Keeper. Next for Harry was a parcel with a label From Mum and Dad. Harry wasn't sure why Sirius bought an extra Christmas and Birthday present every year and addressed it that way. He did find them extra special, even if he knew they were not actually from his parents. It was like they were. Maybe it was because Sirius had known his parents so well, so he could accurately predict things that they would have gotten him.
Unwrapping the box he found a penknife. Inscribed on the wood was the name 'Henry Potter.'
Sirius had moved to stand beside Harry, placing his hand on his shoulder. "That was your grandfather's. I had forgotten I even had it until a couple of months ago when I was going through my closet. Your father let me borrow it a couple of months before he died. It can open any lock or untie any knot."
Harry turned it over in his hand running his thumb over the latch, pushing on it so it popped out. "That's cool. Thanks," he said with a bright smile.
From Tonks and her mother, he received hooks for putting his father's broom onto the wall, as well as a tiny model of a Nimbus Two Thousand.
Finally, Harry turned to the final package. It had light grey wrapping and was very light when Harry moved it to his lap.
"Who's this one from?" Harry asked glancing up at Remus and Sirius.
Sirius shrugged "no idea. It showed up under the tree this morning."
"I had to stop Sirius from opening it," Remus said with a small grin.
Harry turned over the package he found that a letter had seemed to materialize out of thin air. Curious he pulled it free. Written in narrow, loopy writing he had never seen before was the message:
Your father left this in my possession before he died. It is time it was returned to you. Use it well.
A Very Merry Christmas to you.
There was no signature. Curiosity swept through him more.
"Does it say who it is from?" Remus asked.
"No, just that it was my dad's," Harry said with a curious frown.
Sirius looked up at him with curiosity.
"Well open it up," Ron said having forgotten about his Every Flavour Beans from his aunt and the tin of cookies Andromeda had given him.
Harry peeled back the wrapping, finding something fluid and silvery inside. He knew instantly what it was, it had been the center of so many stories from his father's school years.
"Whoa! Is that an Invisibility Cloak?" Ron asked his eyes widening.
Harry glanced up at Sirius who looked shocked. According to Dumbledore, he had lent the cloak to some Order member that never returned it. Sirius had searched for it all over, trying to get it so he could pass it on to Harry.
Standing up, Harry let it fall to the ground, holding it out in front of him It was strange to the touch, like water woven into material. Pulling it over his shoulder, he made his way over to the mirror. Sure enough, his reflection looked back at him, just his head suspended in midair, his body completely invisible. Pulling the cloak over his head, his reflection vanished completely.
"Who would have sent that to you?" asked Ron.
Harry pulled it off turning to him with a small shrug "probably Dumbledore. Why would he not give it to you though, Sirius?"
Sirius shrugged getting to his feet walking over and letting the cloak run through his fingers. His expression was full of emotion, like the number of memories that were currently running through his mind caused him pain.
"I'd give anything for one of those," Ron was saying with a grin "anything."
"Ron, shut it," Harry said glancing at him "please."
Ron fell silent looking at him with a small frown "why? What's the matter?"
Harry looked down at the cloak. Why had Dumbledore lied about him having the cloak? Why did he wait until now to send it to him? And the question that had plagued him since he knew to ask it, what had been so important that Dumbledore needed to borrow it from his father?
"Nothing's wrong, I just don't get why Dumbledore would have lied, why did he wait so long to send it to me?" Harry asked looking at Sirius and then at Remus.
"He must have had his reasons," Remus said.
Harry doubted that. It wasn't that he didn't trust Dumbledore. He did, well at least as much as he thought was safe. He believed what Sirius said, Dumbledore was just too powerful to have a completely clean record.
Harry looked at Ron who still looked rather confused, "you see Dumbledore borrowed this from my father. Said he needed it for Order business. Which is why my dad didn't have it the night Voldemort came looking for us."
Ron seemed to understand suddenly "oh…and if he had it…"
"Maybe they could have gotten away that night," Harry said, "I've always wondered what was so important that Dumbledore needed it. Needed it at that moment, I mean he knew my parents were being hunted by Voldemort, and if they could have used it as a way to escape. I mean it was my dad's, after all."
Remus crossed the room setting his hand on Harry's shoulder. "Dumbledore wouldn't have borrowed it from your father unless it was important. Besides, just because they might have had it, doesn't mean that your parents would be alive right now Harry. We can't live in the 'what ifs.' It was returned to you, its rightful owner and we should just be thankful for that."
Harry nodded. Of course, Remus was right. Thinking about the 'what ifs' would never bring his parents back. It just made him sad, and miss them.
. . . .
Christmas dinner was as good as always. Turkey, roast, boiled potatoes, chipolatas, buttered peas, thick, rich gravy and cranberry sauce. Everything was cooked perfectly and tasted delicious. For dessert were cookies, fudge and apple pie. Once everyone was stuffed full, and drowsy, wizard crackers appeared between each of them.
Andromeda, Tonks, Mad-Eye, Kingsley, Edward Tonks, John Dawlish an Auror who worked in the office with Sirius, and Rufus Scrimgeour the head of the Auror Office sat around the table with Sirius, Remus, Harry and Ron. Each of them grabbed one end. Harry pulled his with Andromeda. The firecrackers didn't just bang, it went off with a blast like a cannon and engulfed them all in a cloud of blue smoke, while from inside exploded a rear admiral's hat and several live, white mice.
With some persuasion, Sirius placed the flowered bonnet he had gotten on his head. Harry grinned.
"It looks fantastic, Sirius," Andromeda said with a bright smile.
Harry couldn't help but fall into a fit of giggles.
The next day Hermione and Neville arrived, to celebrate they spent the afternoon having a furious snowball fight in a courtyard near the apartment. Harry dodged away from the snowball soaring towards him, slipping and he fell down into the snow.
When he looked up Hermione was kneeling over him, her hands full of snow which she pushed into his face, before getting up and throwing a well-aimed snowball at Neville.
Harry laughed, sitting up he shook some of the dripping snow from his face and hair. When they were cold, wet and gasping for breath, they raced down the sidewalk back to the apartment. Sprinting up the stairs Harry was first in through the door, pulling off his soaked cloak. Glad to see that Remus ready for their arrival had already prepared hot chocolate and a roaring fire.
Sniffling Harry sat down in the armchair, his chest heaving. After a moment to catch his breath, he headed to his room to change into some dry clothes. When he was finished he returned to a meal of turkey sandwiches, crumpets, trifle and Christmas cake, feeling rather sleepy, Harry spent the evening watching Ron teach Hermione wizards chess.
Full of turkey and cake, Harry headed to his lower bunk and fell asleep rather quickly. Ron slept on the top bunk, Neville on the twin bed which now replaced the couch, and Hermione slept out in the living room on a temporary mattress.
In the morning Harry sat up in his bed, finding Neville and Hermione sitting on the bed. Talking with Ron who lounged still in the top bunk.
"Morning," Harry said stretching scooting back leaning back against the wall.
"Morning," Neville said.
"So, I was thinking, why don't I tell Sirius and Remus that we need to go back to Hogwarts a day early so that we can get some time to look into Flamel?" Harry asked.
Hermione nodded "yeah, alright. What will you tell Sirius and Remus?"
"That we need to catch up on some homework that we have been putting off during the break," Harry said.
So a day before break was to end, Harry said goodbye to Sirius and Remus. The four of them headed quickly to the castle, grabbing some food from the Great Hall for lunch, and then headed to the library. The search didn't find anything useful, and it wasn't nearly as long as they would have liked, as Madam Pince began to get suspicious.
Heading to the Gryffindor Common Room they found Fred and George sitting in the armchairs near the fireplace. While Percy looked to be searching for something.
"Oh look, all of you guys got a sweater too," Fred said looking over his shoulder at them.
Harry smiled nodding "yes, and Sirius and Remus."
"Your mom was so very thoughtful to do that," Hermione said.
"Percy, what are you doing?" Ron asked.
"I must have misplaced my prefect badge. I cannot find it anywhere," Percy said looking around, he kind of looked like he was a madman.
Harry caught the smirk that Fred and George shared. They must have hidden it somewhere.
Heading to bed that night, Harry stayed up longer than Neville and Ron, who were both snoring away in their beds. He held his wand over his book so that he could read. Reading the book of curses he had gotten from Flourish and Blotts, closing the book a thought came to his mind. The smoother than silk, silvery cloak that currently laid folded up neatly in his trunk.
Placing his book down he got off the bed, and pulled his cloak from the trunk, letting the material flow over his hands. Use it well, the note from Dumbledore had said.
He had to try it, now. He wrapped the cloak around himself. Looking down at his legs, he saw only moonlight and shadows. It was a very funny feeling.
Use it well.
Suddenly, Harry felt wide-awake. No wonder his father had gotten into so much trouble as a student. The whole of Hogwarts was open to him as long as he had the cloak. Forget flying around on his father's old broom, this made Harry almost feel like his father was standing right beside him. Eagerly nudging him onward.
Ron grunted in his sleep. Harry looked at him and then Neville. Should he wake them? Something held him back — his father's cloak — he felt that this time — the first time — he wanted to use it alone.
He crept out of the dormitory, down the stairs, across the common room and climbed through the portrait hole.
"Who's there?" squawked the Fat Lady. Harry said nothing. He continued to walk quickly down the corridor.
Where should he go? He stopped his heart racing and thought. And then it came to him. It wouldn't have been the kind of trouble that his father would have gotten into, but at the moment it seemed the most helpful. The Restricted Section. He'd be able to read as long as he liked, as long as it took to find out who Flamel was. He set off, drawing the Invisibility Cloak tight around him as he walked.
The library was pitch-black and very eerie. Taking out his wand Harry muttered "lumos," and the end lit up, letting him see his way along the rows of books. His wand looked like it was floating along in midair, and even though Harry could feel his arm supporting it, the sight was something he would have to get used to.
The Restricted Section was right at the back of the library. Stepping carefully over the rope that separated these books from the rest of the library, he held up his wand to read the titles.
His curiosity for the Dark Arts had begun to spike. What dark secrets were hidden in these books? Some of the books were labelled with words he couldn't understand. Some had no titles at all. One book had a dark stain on it that looked horribly like blood. The hairs on the back of Harry's neck prickled. Maybe he was imagining it, maybe not, but he thought a faint whispering was coming from the books, as though they knew someone was there who shouldn't be. Some even seemed to be calling out to him, encouraging him to read their secrets.
He had to start somewhere. Lowering himself to the bottom shelf, he looked for an interesting-looking book. A large black and silver volume caught his eye. He pulled it out with difficulty, having to first place his wand down because it was very heavy. Setting it down on the desk he pulled it open.
A piercing, bloodcurdling shriek split the silence — the book was screaming! Harry snapped it shut, but the shriek went on and on one high, unbroken, earsplitting note. He stumbled backward and knocked his wand to the floor. Panicking, he heard footsteps coming down the corridor outside — stuffing the shrieking book back on the shelf, he grabbed his wand. Muttering "nox" so his wand went out. He sprinted out of the library, passing Filch in the doorway. Filch's pale, wild eyes looked straight through him and Harry slipped under Filch's outstretched arm and streaked off up the corridor, the book's shrieks still ringing in his ears.
He came to a sudden halt in front of a tall suit of armour. He had been so busy getting away from the library, that he hadn't paid attention to where he was going. Perhaps because it was dark, he didn't recognize where he was at all. There was a suit of armour near the kitchens, he knew, but he must be five floors above there.
"You asked me to come directly to you, Professor, if anyone was wandering around at night, and somebody's been in the library — Restricted Section."
Harry felt the blood drain out of his face. Wherever he was, Filch must know a shortcut, because his soft, greasy voice was getting nearer, and to his horror, it was Snape who replied, "The Restricted Section? Well, they can't be far, we'll catch them."
Harry stood rooted to the spot as Filch and Snape came around the corner ahead. They couldn't see him of course, but it was a narrow corridor and if they came much nearer they'd knock right into him — the Cloak didn't stop him from being solid.
He backed away as quietly as he could. A door stood ajar to his left. It was his only hope. He squeezed through it, holding his breath, trying not to move it, and to his relief, he managed to get inside the room without their noticing anything. They walked straight past, and Harry leaned against the wall, breathing deeply, listening to their footsteps dying away. That had been close, very close. It was a few seconds before he noticed anything about the room he had hidden in.
It looked like an unused classroom. The dark shapes of desks and chairs were piled against the walls, and there was an upturned wastepaper basket — but propped against the wall facing him was something that didn't look as if it belonged there, something that looked as if someone had just put it there to keep it out of the way.
It was a magnificent mirror, as high as the ceiling, with an ornate gold frame, standing on two clawed feet. There was an inscription carved around the top: Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi.
His panic fading now that there was no sound of Filch and Snape, Harry moved nearer to the mirror, wanting to look at himself but seeing no reflection again. He stepped in front of it.
He had to clap his hands to his mouth to stop himself from screaming. He whirled around. His heart was pounding far more furiously than when the book had screamed — for he had seen not only himself in the mirror, but a woman and man standing right behind his reflection, yes his reflection, for the mirror showed his reflection despite the invisibility cloak. The woman stood smiling at him waving. He reached out a hand and felt the air behind him. If she was really there, he'd touch her, their reflections were so close together, but he felt only air — she and the man existed only in the mirror.
She was a very pretty woman. She had dark red hair and her eyes — her eyes are just like mine, Harry thought, edging a little closer to the glass. Bright green — exactly the same shape, but crying; smiling, but crying at the same time. The tall, thin, black-haired man standing next to her put his arm around her. He wore glasses, and his hair was untidy. It stuck up at the back, just like Harry's did.
Harry was so close to the mirror now that his nose was nearly touching that of his reflection. Disbelief spread through him at the moment he realized exactly what, or who really, he was seeing. For these people, he knew, but only from photographs.
"Mum?" he whispered "Dad?"
They just looked at him, smiling. Harry felt numb. His hand had moved up to press flat against the glass. Moving so his hand rested over where his mother's hand sat. He had a powerful kind of ache inside him, half joy, half terrible sadness. His knees shook and Harry felt like his legs were going to give out.
He felt tears work their way into his eyes. How long he stood there, he didn't know. The reflections of his parents did not fade, and he looked and looked until a distant noise brought him back to his senses. He couldn't stay here, he had to find his way back to bed, he had classes tomorrow, which he needed some sleep for. He tore his eyes away from his mother's face, whispered "I'll come back," he promised and hurried from the room.