The next morning found the tables back to their usual positions in the Great Hall. Staros walked in and saw Harry and Ron already seated. He smiled as he walked over, then frowned as he noticed that Harry looked really tired.
"Hey guys, rough night?" Staros asked, seating himself next to Ron who, of course, looked like he was about to start screaming any minute. "Stay up all night or something, Harry? Not healthy you know."
Staros started to pile up a plate of breakfast when Ron started in.
"You snakes have your own table you know. You could try eating over there and let us alone. We were talking about something important and don't need your kind butting in!"
With a sigh, Staros said, "Backsliding already, Ron? And here I was going to let you beat me at chess again today. 'Sides, I think you guys get better food over here, what with how you stuff your face, Ron. Quite a feat, I assure you."
"What? Why I…"
"Ron! Enough!" shouted Harry. "Just leave it will you. I swear, you two should get married or something."
Ron started to splutter as Staros chuckled and looked over at Ron.
"It'd have to be a gold and silver wedding. The reds and greens would clash horribly."
Ron went completely quiet as he stared at Staros open mouthed. His eyes had a look of horror while a twitch started to make its way across the left side of his face. Harry and Staros watched for a moment but then couldn't hold it in any longer and started laughing hard. It took what seemed like forever for Ron to come back to Earth and realize he was well and truly had with that one. He got up and moved around to the other side of Harry to be sure, but even he had to chuckle a bit at the joke. Still, he kept looking over at Staros like he was afraid the boy might try to get a little closer.
True to his word, Staros played Ron in several rounds of chess later that day, but he took notice of Harry's brooding. He never got either boy to tell him what was up that day, and they made no headway on the Flammel issue when they took some time to look through the library. A brief laugh was had when Harry related his oh so short visit to the Restricted Section the night before, which Staros took as being why Harry looked so tired.
Staros did finally receive a letter back from the Flammel Brothers in New York though. It politely said that they had no such person in their family that they were aware of, and not so politely said to quit sticking their noses into their family's personal business. Staros quickly wrote back a note of apology as well as mentioning the prospects of a good business deal here in Britain, explaining the lack of higher quality alchemical equipment.
The next morning was similar except that both Harry and Ron looked tired, Harry the worse of the two. While playing a game of chess, Staros made Ron tell him what was going on.
"Seriously, Ron, look at him! I've never seen him like that!"
Ron sighed, and looked over at Harry who was sitting, staring into the fire in the common room. He looked positively half-dead and hadn't eaten much the day before or today. With worried look, Ron looked back at Staros and gave in.
"It's the mirror. He won't stay away. He spent all Christmas night staring at it, and would have spent all last night too if we hadn't almost got caught."
"Mirror? What mirror?" Staros asked, bewildered.
Ron launched into the story Harry had told him the day before and went over the events of last night.
"So, you're saying he sees his parents and grandparents in it and you saw yourself as Quidditch captain, Head Boy, and holding the House Cup? Doesn't sound all to menacing, but I think you're right. Harry should probably stay away from it until he gets some perspective on his family. Sounds like he's having trouble dealing with seeing them. I bet it's the first time…"
"What? How could it be the first time he's seen them?"
"Well, they DID die when he was a baby. He might not remember them at all. And he did grow up with mundanes. Can't see them having too many photos with wizards in them."
Ron sat back thinking about that. His family was always there. They had pictures of parts of his family he'd never met, cousins, aunts, uncles, greats, etc. He couldn't imagine having never seen them at all before. Try as he did, his head just couldn't wrap around the idea of having never seen his parents, or anyone else in his family. Sighing, he realized it was something he'd never know, and a deep part of him, a part that was suddenly very sorry for his friend, was ever so silently, but very much thankful he never would.
"Look, don't hurt yourself thinking about it. But, what will we do if he tries to go again tonight?"
Ron frowned. He really didn't want Harry to waste his nights in front of that mirror and his days staring off until he thought he could get away to go back.
"I don't know. I could try and stop him maybe," Ron said.
Staros shook his head.
"No, by yourself, he'd just get mad again, like last night. Let me show you a messenger spell like what they use in the Ministry. If he takes off tonight, you shoot me a message and we'll both go sit on him until he listens. Maybe with both of us, we can get the point to sink in."
Ron looked doubtful, but looking at Harry again, it was an indication of how worried he was that things would get worse that he would trust a Slytherin to help him.
"Ok. Show me."
After getting the spell down and making sure that Staros knew exactly how to get to the room, Ron went to try and get Harry interested in something while Staros went back to the Slytherin dorms.
Staros met Blaise in the common room, reading a book. Sitting down, he waited until his friend had finished whatever chapter or paragraph he was on and put the book down before speaking.
"Sorry about the snow."
Blaise looked at Staros in a way that said, 'Forgiven for now, but never forgotten' like any true Slytherin.
"Whatever, so how are your pet Gryffs doing?"
Quirking a half-smile, Staros knew that Blaise would get him back at some point and promised himself to try to not be too pissed about it.
"Eh, Ron's the same. Still the fascinating to you eating machine that is the bane of house elves and chefs worldwide. Harry's been spending the last couple nights staring at some enchanted mirror though. It's got him all in a twist."
Staros related a brief summary of what Ron had told him. Blaise sat back and frowned.
"Something about that sounds vaguely familiar, like a story I once heard. I dunno, but enchanted things shoved into abandoned classrooms are probably not good things to mess with. Let me know what you find out if you have to take off tonight. But don't wake me. If you get in trouble, I don't want anything to do with it or any giant, man-eating animals that might be hiding in corridors."
Staros chuckled but agreed knowing that Blaise still had a few nightmares about Fluffy.
That night, a note whizzed into the common room where Staros was doing some essays while waiting to see if the note showed. Sighing since this meant that Harry had indeed gone back to the mirror, he quickly put his stuff away and made his way out into the corridors. He had already overheard Snape's plans for his patrols that night, so he wasn't too worried about being caught. Even still, he was dressed in all black robes, with a cloak thrown in to help disguise his shape. He quickly followed the directions Ron had given him to the point they agreed to meet at. Seeing no Ron, Staros wondered if he had been caught. Waiting a few minutes, he decided that he should get to Harry before he spent too much time staring into the mirror and Ron could catch up later.
Several minutes later, he was outside the door Ron had described. He heard voices inside. Creeping up, he listened in.
"… the Mirror of Erised," said a voice very much like Dumbledore.
"I didn't know it was called that, sir," said a voice like Harry.
"But, I expect you've realized… It seems one of your other friends has decided to join us. Come in, Mr. Marcus, come in."
Seeing as he had been noticed, Staros shrugged and walked boldly into the room.
"Sorry, Headmaster, I'd been told Harry here might be wasting his time with a possibly dangerous enchanted object and just wanted to see what the fuss was about. Oh, and knock him over the head if need be." Staros said the last with a large grin. Dumbledore seemed to understand as he too smiled.
"Have you heard then, about the mirror and what it shows, Mr. Marcus?"
"Sure, Harry's parents, Ron's, I dunno, hero inferiority complex or something."
"Indeed, Ron as Head Boy and Harry's family."
"How did you?" said Harry.
"I don't need a cloak to become invisible," said Dumbledore gently. "Now, can you think what the Mirror of Erised shows us all?"
Harry looked at Staros, who shook his head slightly, then back at Dumbledore before shaking his own head.
"Let me explain then. Ah, I do so miss being the teacher. The happiest man on Earth would use the Mirror of Erised like any normal mirror, that is, he would look into and see himself exactly as he is. Does that help?"
Harry and Staros thought for a moment before Harry spoke up.
"It shows us what we want. Whatever we want."
"Yes and no," Dumbledore said softly. "It shows us nothing more or less than the deepest, most desperate desire of our hearts. You, who have never known your family, see them standing around you. Ronald Weasley, who has always been overshadowed by his brothers, sees himself standing alone, the best of all of them. Young Staros here would see something entirely different. However, this mirror will give us neither knowledge nor truth. Men have wasted away before it, entranced by what they have seen, or been driven mad, not knowing if what it shows is real or even possible."
"Sir, might I have a look then? Just to satisfy my curiosity?" asked Staros.
Dumbledore looked over the rim of his glasses at Staros for a few moments before nodding.
"Remember, my boy, what you see could be past, present, or future, but not necessarily real in any way."
Nodding, Staros stepped in front of the mirror. At first, he saw nothing more than his own reflection with Dumbledore standing behind him. Then Dumbledore stepped away and Staros saw something else entirely.
Harry and Dumbledore watched as Staros stared into the glass, first with mild curiosity, then with mounting worry as Staros' face showed surprise and then despair. Staros finally seemed to explode in anger as he slammed his fist into the mirror's surface, shocking the other two. Either because the glass was so very thick for a mere eleven year old to damage or the mirror had additional enchantments to prevent such possibility, but Staros' blow did nothing even as the boy hung his head down while shaking, either in anger or some other emotion, Harry and Dumbledore couldn't tell.
Standing back straight without looking at the mirror again, Staros glanced at Dumbledore with a look of pure hatred and anger.
"That thing should be destroyed," Staros hissed as he stalked away from the mirror. "What it shows… no, that will never come to pass, no matter how much I might wish otherwise. Get rid of it, Headmaster, before someone else gets trapped by its evil."
Dumbledore was a bit shocked at such a violent reaction to the sights the mirror showed and with some concern, he tried to gently probe the boy's mind to catch the memory before it was buried too deeply. Staros felt the brush on his occlumency shields and quickly shut his eyes. Taking a few breaths, he re-opened them to look the headmaster straight in the eye, secure that his mind was safe from passive probes.
"Please don't, sir. I do not wish to discuss what I saw, nor get into it right now. Maybe another time."
Dumbledore nodded once before turning back to Harry, who looked slightly confused.
"The mirror will be moved to a new home tomorrow, Harry, and I ask you not to go looking for it again. If you do happen to run across it, you will now be prepared. It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live, remember that. Now, you two should be off, back to bed."
"Sir. Professor Dumbledore? Can I ask you something?" said Harry.
"Obviously, you've just done so," Dumbledore smiled at his little joke. "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, woolen socks," said Dumbledore, a sad note to his voice. "Another Christmas has come and gone and I didn't get a single pair. People insist on getting me books. Save for your own, Mr. Marcus. Thank you for that lovely nameplate. It will be handy should anyone forget to whom they are speaking."
Realizing that it was a rather lame gift, but that Dumbledore seemed pleased to have received anything from a student, he mumbled a Your Welcome before he and Harry took off to their respective dorms.