December, 1991

Harry showed his cloak to Neville and Hermione first. Neville shared that he had his dad's wand, and it was very precious to him. Hermione was fascinated by how it worked, and resolved to look up invisibility cloaks in the library.

Ron was awed. "They're really rare, and really valuable."

When he showed it to a few of the Slytherins later (Millicent was busy elsewhere), Pansy was very impressed by the invisibility cloak too, and immediately asked if she could borrow it.

"It's the only thing of my parents' that I own," he said, stroking the fabric possessively. "So I'm afraid I can't lend it out. Not even to friends."

"That's a shame," sighed Pansy enviously. "I could have a lot of fun with an invisibility cloak. But what do you mean it's the only family possession that you own? You must have a multitude of things in your vault, surely."

"No, just money."

Pansy and Daphne stared at him. Tracey looked between them all, looking a little puzzled.

"But your family vault - it should have your parents' things. You must have something. And if you don't have access to your family treasures, well your personal vault should have a few non-valuables. Old dress robes, a wardrobe, your parents' school books. Their wands, for Merlin's sake. It's not right that the only heirloom you have is a cloak that a greedy old man held back from your parents' estate distribution."

Daphne hissed softly at Pansy, "The walls have ears, Pans." She glanced at a nearby painting, with a shepherdess in it wandering around tending a flock of fluffy sheep on a pastoral hillside. The Slytherins all spoke more quietly after that, and Harry copied them.

"It's settled, you simply must visit Gringotts over the holiday. I'll owl my father and see if he'll help you – he's really good with them. If you go on your own those nasty goblins will fleece you like you're a naïve little lamb. They can't be trusted."

"Isn't that unfair? I know Binns goes on about them a lot, but you can't be prejudiced against a whole magical race just because there's been battles in the past. And there's two sides to every story you know."

"Are you jesting with me? You can't just assume other races think and act like wizards do. They are greedy and vicious – it's just how they are and it has been since time immemorial. Ask your friend Hermione if she gets the 'Muggle-born special rate'; you'll soon see how trustworthy they are. They're sneaky little creatures."

Pansy taught him how to catch the Knight Bus to Diagon Alley, and arranged to meet him outside Gringotts a couple of days after Yule.

"And what will this assistance cost me?" he asked with a raised eyebrow.

"He's learning," said Tracey with a wry grin.

"This is just building good will so we can hopefully call for unspecified future assistance," explained Pansy. "If my family helps you establish yourself in society and get your finances in order, that's major assistance but not something easy to pay back right away. And anyway, you're family too. I'm sure you'll speak well of us when the situation allows now, won't you?"

"Well sure, I do that already – there's been a few complaints from various Gryffindors. But now Ron, for example, hardly ever complains about Slytherins anymore. Except Malfoy of course."

"I wish you two would make up. Oh! And you can buy me some ice-cream," said Pansy. "Or treat the family to lunch. That would be courteous."

"He's too young to have meal-hosting obligations," disagreed Daphne.

"Is not! He's an Heir or a Head of House, which means he can and should host social events."

They bickered about it even after Harry said he'd treat her whole family to ice-cream sundaes as the best compromise he could think of.

Tracey seized the opportunity to speak quietly to him while the other two were distracted. "Hey Harry, I just wanted to ask – did Dumbledore say why he had your father's cloak?"

"He said my father lent it to him before he died."

"No, that's not what I meant," she said, sounding very serious. "You told us that. I meant, what reason did he give for why he had it, when it would have been so much more useful to your parents for hiding themselves, or you, from You-Know-Who? If it was my family running from him, they'd have to pry that cloak from my cold dead hands. I wouldn't lend it to anyone."

Harry thought about that for a moment, and nodded seriously at her. "Thank you."

She nodded back. He'd gotten her message - there was something fishy going on there. He didn't know what, but he'd remember – the Headmaster was not to be trusted.

In the last week before school broke for the holidays Harry tried on the cloak again late one evening, admiring himself in the bathroom mirror. It did seem like a handy thing to go exploring in – no one would know he was breaking curfew. Excitement flooded through him as he stood there in the dark and silence. He could go anywhere in this, anywhere, and Filch would never know. He thought about waking Neville, but something held him back – his father's cloak – he felt that this time – the first time – he wanted to use it alone.

He slipped out of the dorm, and roamed around the castle in any direction that took his fancy. He explored a number of vacant rooms, finding them more interesting than he thought. There were a few boring classrooms with desks and blackboards, but also one that looked like a ballroom, another with music stands in a closet, and an odd windowless room with pock marked craters in the solid stone floor, and jagged lines gouged in the blackened stone walls. And one disused classroom had a huge, magnificent mirror propped against one wall looking very out of place. When he spotted the inscription on the top of its ornate gold frame, he stopped approaching, and copied it down in a notebook to puzzle out. It didn't seem like Latin, though he thought it might be Welsh. After a little thought and attempts at code breaking he smacked himself on the head. It was backwards. "I show not your face but your heart's desire." That didn't sound too bad.

He stepped forward and looked in the mirror. Instead of just himself, there was a whole crowd of people. He spun around, but no one was there. In the mirror though, he saw his parents standing to one side of him, and they looked just like they looked in the textbooks. His mother smiled proudly at him as she put her hand on his shoulder, and his father gave him a thumbs up and a cheeky grin. On the other side stood Aunt Petunia, Uncle Vernon and Dudley. She was holding one of those special triple layer chocolate cakes they got for Dudley whenever he did well in school, except this one had "Harry" written on it in icing. She and Uncle Vernon was smiling at him lovingly, and Dudley grinned and waved, holding out a second controller for the Nintendo, like he wanted them to play together. Behind them stood a whole bunch of other people, most in ordinary clothes and a few in wizarding robes or old fashioned dresses. Pansy was there too, laughing happily and holding hands with an older couple who must be her parents. They were next to an older wizard and witch he thought might be his father's parents.

Family. And friends. He'd thought he might see himself as a world renowned surgeon, but it was true – his heart's desire was a family who loved him unreservedly. And he really wished he had his parents back. Harry gazed longingly into the mirror. That silly hat didn't know his heart like the mirror did – this was a Hufflepuff ambition, surely.

He sat on the ground and watched the mirror for maybe an hour. The image shifted and changed as he watched, and reflected on what he wanted most. At one point Neville and Hermione wandered into the group scene arm in arm to greet a smiling Pansy, and waved at him happily. It startled him out of his trance as he realised they might like to see the mirror too, and he headed back to the dorm.

The next night he brought them along, and Ron too. Hermione wouldn't say what she saw, but she seemed thrilled by it, if a little embarrassed. Neville whispered with a twisted smile that he saw his parents.

"Me too," said Harry, bumping his shoulder against Neville's in a rough attempt at comfort.

Ron saw himself as Head Boy and Quidditch captain, winning the House and Quidditch cup.

"Do you think this mirror shows the future?" he asked optimistically.

"No, it shows your heart's desire. There's no way my parents are coming back from the dead, Ron."

"Yeah, I guess so," he said, disappointed, gazing into the mirror once more.

Ron tried to talk him out of going again the next night, saying it was dangerous and he had a bad feeling about it, but Harry ignored him.

Harry went alone, and sat down in front of the mirror to sketch some of the people he saw in the mirror. Magic was an incredible thing. What if it knew somehow what all his relatives had looked like?

"So – back again, Harry?"

Harry startled at the unexpected voice of Dumbledore coming from behind him. They chatted about the delights of the Mirror of Erised. Harry of course already knew what it did. But he was a disturbed to hear that Dumbledore already knew what he and Ron had seen in the mirror. Dumbledore snuck around invisibly spying on people?! Dumbledore warned him that the mirror was dangerous, and could entrance people or drive them mad.

"Then what is it doing just sitting in an unlocked classroom, Sir?"

"The Mirror will be moved to a new, safer home tomorrow Harry, and I ask you not to go looking for it again. And by the way I hope you're staying away from the forbidden corridor in your explorations, hmmm?"

"Yes, Sir," assured Harry, thinking about the time they ran into the cerberus.

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled merrily. "Good, good."

"Might I ask a question, about the corridor?"

Dumbledore nodded happily.

"Why would a treasure be safest here in a school?"

"I'm sorry but I can't answer that, my boy. Now Harry, what's in there and why it is there is strictly between myself and Nicholas Flamel, and is nothing you need to concern yourself with. Just concentrate on having fun doing whatever it is young children do these days, and working hard at your studies."

"Yes, Sir. Another question instead then?"

"By all means."

"What do you see in the mirror?"

Socks. Hmph. Wizards were crazy, and Dumbledore was clearly one of the craziest. Seeing himself with new socks in the mirror, indeed. It was more likely he was lying. It wasn't very fair, when he got to know what Harry saw. He wondered who Flamel was, as he went back to bed, but concluded it was none of his business, really. Best just to avoid the whole mess of Dumbledore's schemes.

The day before he was due to leave on the Hogwarts Express for the Christmas holidays, Pansy dragged Draco Malfoy over to talk to him. He looked reluctant about it.

"Potter," he said, stiffly.

"Malfoy," responded Harry, giving a small nod of his head with a slight incline, as Pansy had taught him was appropriate for greeting those of equal rank, or for general civility.

"I hope you have a pleasant Yuletide celebration," said Draco.

"You also," responded Harry. "My best wishes to your family."

Draco looked awkward as he stood there silently. Harry realised Draco might not know what to say in response, given his own parents were dead, and he lived with Muggles.

"I understand your manor is quite lovely," he volunteered. "You're going home for Yule?" He wasn't actually sure if the Malfoys even had a manor, let alone what it was like. But Pansy had said all the "best" families had manors, so it was a fair guess. Malfoy was pretty snooty and seemed like the type.

"Yes, thank you. The grounds in particular are lovely - mother's very proud of them. We'll be celebrating Yule at home, naturally. We usually have roast peacock for supper," Draco said, seizing on the topic with relief. Pansy smiled at them both.

"Oh! I've never had peacock," said Harry. "Is it any good?"

"It's a darker meat than chicken – it tastes quite similar to pheasant," said Draco, "so it's not bad at all. And what will you be dining on for your Yule feast?"

"I'll probably be cooking a turkey," said Harry. "With all the trimmings, naturally."

"You'll be cooking it?"

"Well, we don't have house-elves in a Muggle home, you know."

"Oh, of course," Draco said, looking rather uncomfortable.

They exchanged a couple of other polite inanities and avoided talking about Harry's friends and family altogether. Neither of them apologised for anything that happened on the train (or in clashes with Ron that Harry had been dragged into). Pansy led Draco off, giving Harry a covert smile and tiny bob of a curtsey in thanks when Draco wasn't looking. He was glad he'd made her happy – it hadn't been too painful a conversation.

A/N: Enjoying this story? Too much pesky free time on your hands? I'm looking for a beta and/or Brit-picker! Please check out my profile if you're interested in applying for either role (may be separate or combined).