Christmas was coming, and all of Hogwarts showed it. Mid-December brought a blanket of snow, and the lake was finally safe enough for ice skating. Mary watched students celebrate by freezing blades of ice to their boots, while some like Sophie Roper had proper ice skates of their own. She traced elegant figure-eights on the ice, spun like a top, and even knew how to leap and land without falling. It was something Mary had always wanted to try, but she figured she'd put it off until Ron or Hermione gave it a go.

Fred and George wasted no time landing a detention for bewitching snowballs to follow Quirrell around and hit the back of his head. They served this time in the owlery, nursing blizzard-battered birds back to health with Hagrid and a few students in Advanced Care for Magical Creatures. Hedwig had missed this storm, but Mary joined them to observe, just in case she ever needed the knowledge sooner than year three.

"You don't need to get detention to join us, you know," said Gemma, her purple panther prowling the perches and playing a game of hide-and-chase with some owlets.

"And ruin our reputation?" Fred asked, in mock offense. "Surely m'lady doth jest!"

"Why were they out in that weather, anyway?" Mary asked.

"The storm came out of nowhere," Gemma replied. "These breeds can handle the typical seasonal weather, but they would've been kept home if anyone had known that it would turn into a full blizzard."

She was enchanting ceramic orbs that sat in boxes under a row of nests. They could hold heat for eight hours before needing to be refreshed, which attracted avians of all health. Hedwig roosted between two ailing birds, enjoying the heat herself, and spreading her wings to share her own warmth to help them heal.

Mary would have liked a couple charmed orbs for Potions, as the dungeons were allowed to reach uncommonly cool temperatures for the integrity of their brews. The precaution might be a blessed relief in warmer months, but winter had students huddling close to their bubbling cauldrons to fend off the chill. Maybe the classroom would feel a little warmer if the environment were even marginally pleasant.

Ever since the quidditch match, Malfoy had dedicated more time to antagonizing Mary. He was furious that she was the Gryffindor Seeker, and embarrassed that she had never served a day of detention. He sketched a caricature of Mary as a wide-mouthed tree frog catching the Snitch, and passed it around History of Magic. Nobody aside from his cronies thought it was very funny. Dean intercepted the scrap of parchment and sketched a better version of the caricature, which Mary proudly set next to her nametag.

Malfoy returned to taunting Mary about having no proper family.

"It really is a shame," he said, one Potions class, "for all those people who have to stay at Hogwarts for Christmas, because they're not wanted at home."

More power to him, Mary thought. She was happy when Professor McGonagall posted a roster for students who would be staying on campus for the holidays, and signed up at once. Even better, Ron and his brothers were staying, too, because their parents and Ginny were visiting Charlie in Romania.

"Bill is trying to get time off," said Ron, as they left Potions. "His schedule is more difficult to plan, what with people cursing each other and all."

"I kind of wish I could stay," said Hermione.

"While everyone's away from the library?" Mary asked with a grin.

"You have quidditch, I have the library." With a mischievous grin of her own, she added, "Pick on me too much, and I'll tell Madam Pince the real reason Quidditch for the Ages is overdue."

"You wouldn't!" Mary and Ron said together, and she cackled.

Mary had been sitting in the courtyard, minding her own business, when Snape happened by and took the book from her for reading it in the middle of a snow fall. He deducted five points from Gryffindor, and it was still sitting in his desk. Mary suspected that he knew what peril befell students at the hands of the cantankerous librarian.

"I've heard myths of librarians who aren't descended from dragons," said Ron.

"They exist," said Hermione. "I heard one of the fourth years talking about the Hogsmeade library. They have quiet rooms for reading, but the general area is like a town center. People gather, talk, and can even touch books that they don't intend to check out."

Mary and Ron were accusing her of spreading lies, when a fir tree with enormous boots came walking down the corridor.

"Hey Hagrid!" Ron called. "Want any help with that?"

They met the tree where it stopped, and Hagrid poked his head through a few branches. "Hi there! If you're not in any hurry, maybe you can make sure none of the longer branches catch on something, and collect anything that falls out of the tree."

"No hurry; we just got out of class," Mary said, looking to her friends. "Is anything still living in there?"

"Shouldn't be, but I wouldn't recommend trying to catch any critters that fall out. They usually don't like being handled."

The trio followed Hagrid to the Great Hall, where Professors McGonagall and Flitwick were busy with decorations. Professor McGonagall instructed the three to set their handfuls of cones on a table covered in glittering bobbles and trinkets. Around the hall, older students were stringing garland and charming icicles on trees so that they wouldn't melt. Whenever one of them was sure neither professor was looking, they would conjure and pelt one of their fellows with a snowball. Mary was close enough to see that Professor McGonagall was perfectly aware of what was going on, and she learned an interesting lesson: If the students believed that the professor didn't see it, then the professor didn't need to acknowledge it.

"Ah, Hagrid!" Professor Flitwick greeted. "Put that last fir in the far corner, would you?"

When he set the tree down, a pair of juvenile pygmy owls emerged from the tree and flew into the rafters.

"Freeloaders!" Ron called after them.

"You all packed and ready for your holidays, Hermione?" Hagrid asked.

"I don't know," she replied. "I look forward to seeing my family, but having so much free time is going to be weird."

"And how are you going to sleep without Sophie's snoring?" Mary asked.

"I just learned a baffling charm! I can teach it to you when I get back."

"I'll need that, too," said Ron. "Neville's snoring keeps getting worse the colder it gets."

"At least he has a reason," said Mary. "Sophie snores like it's personal."

"She isn't going home for Christmas?" Ron asked.

"No, her family's coming here." Mary tried to picture the Dursleys visiting Hogwarts and utterly failed to conjure an image. Being the very antithesis of everything magical, she could only imagine that their presence would nullify magic itself.

"Maybe I can show my parents Hogwarts, next year," said Hermione, looking to Professor McGonagall.

"We have an extensive waiting list for family visitors," said the professor, "so be sure to talk to them about it as soon as you can."

Mary, Ron, and Hermione returned to Gryffindor tower, where Hermione did a final sweep of the room to make sure she had everything ready to go, while Ron taught Mary Wizard's Chess (trademarked). The rules were the same as muggle chess, but the pieces came alive. Mary felt as though she were directing troops in a battle…albeit, a poorly trained general commanding a terribly confused battalion.

Like everything Ron owned, his chess set was an old hand-me-down. Bill had given it to him when he left home, and Bill had inherited the set from their grandfather. This gave Ron an advantage, as the pieces were used to him and obeyed his orders. Mary, being a much less experienced player and new to the set, didn't inspire much trust in her troops. The pieces shouted different bits of advice and completely flustered her. She finally instructed one of her bishops to capture a pawn, and Hermione joined them as one of Ron's knights clobbered Mary's bishop.

"That's barbaric!" she cried.

"That's Wizard's Chess," said a smiling Ron.


Like an elder sister who couldn't trust her baby siblings, Hermione made Mary and Ron promise that they would stay out of trouble while she was gone. No midnight duels, no sneaking out at night, and no following Fred or George on one of their escapades. Ron tried to convince her that they'd never invite anyone to share in their antics –

"Except maybe Lee."

– but that's when the twins appeared and regaled the lot of them with tales of their capers and cantrips.

Once the holidays began, Mary couldn't imagine keeping up with Ron's brothers, anyway. Sophie spent most nights away with her family in the nearby magical village of Hogsmeade, so Mary experienced the novelty of going to bed as early as she wanted, sleeping peacefully through the night, and waking up as late as she pleased. During the day, the common room was so empty that everyone enjoyed a comfortable spot near the fireplace, where they got to know students outside their year (or family) and listen to upperclassmen argue over how to tell old school legends.

On Christmas Eve, Percy suggested they gather their gifts and bring them to the common room so that Mary wouldn't have to open hers alone. She appreciated the thoughtfulness, but didn't tell him that she wasn't expecting any gifts. It would be enough that they had a feast to look forward to, and she could spend it with her friends.

Mary awoke early the next morning to Hedwig softly nibbling at her eyebrows. She smiled and sleepily patted her back before sitting up and stretching. The first thing she noticed was a pile of packages sitting on the trunk at the foot of her bed. She blinked several times to make sure her eyes weren't playing tricks on her, pulled on her glasses, and crawled closer. Crossing her feet under her legs, she sat and counted. Hedwig nestled in her lap and closed her eyes.

She had five gifts. Leaning forward, she saw a gift wrapped in what appeared to be brown, handmade paper. The attached card read, To Mary, from Hagrid. She smiled and ran her fingers through Hedwig's feathers. The owl had been a gift from him on her eleventh birthday, so maybe she couldn't be surprised that he'd have something prepared for her on Christmas. Tears filled her eyes as she considered the other presents.

"What do you think, Hedwig? Shall we meet the boys downstairs?"

She set Hedwig aside, gathered the gifts up in her dressing gown, tucked a sleepy Hedwig into the crook of her arm, and headed down to the common room. Ron, Fred, George, and Percy were already by the fireplace, the twins mimicking the snoring sound that Neville must be making in his sleep.

"Oh, come on!" Mary scolded, pushing away any lingering tears. "I had a lovely night's sleep, I don't need to hear snoring, now!"

"Merry Christmas to you, too!" said Ron, and threw a wad of wrapping paper at her.

"Careful! Hedwig is trying to sleep!"

Ron actually looked chastened and quietly said, "Sorry, Hedwig! Didn't see you there!"

Mary set her gifts down and pulled her dressing gown around her shoulders, carefully transferring Hedwig from one arm to the other. She sat down, cradled Hedwig in her lap, and pulled the dressing gown into a tent around the snowy owl.

"I recognize that packaging!" George cheered. "Fred, how much you wanna bet?"

"Definitely," said Fred. "Ron?"

Ron was opening a gift with identical packaging and groaned. "It's maroon again. Why does she always give me maroon?"

"Because you're the most Gryffindor of us all!" Fred declared.

Percy seemed to take exception, but only said, "Okay, open yours Mary."

Mary carefully unwrapped the indicated gift and unfolded a thick, emerald green hand-knit sweater. Ron and the twins erupted at once.

"She did!"

"She made you a Weasley sweater!"

"Welcome to the family!"

Percy shook his head at their enthusiasm, and Mary refolded the sweater and slipped it under the dozing Hedwig. She'd put it on before they went to the Great Hall for breakfast.

"I didn't get anything for any of you," said Mary, feeling ashamed.

"That's quite all right, Mary," said Percy, opening one of his gifts. "The joy is in the giving, but you can enjoy receiving, this year." He unfurled a royal purple Weasley sweater.

"Put yours on, Percy," Fred ordered, shrugging into his own. It was yellow with a blue F, and George had a blue sweater with a yellow G.

"None of you have letters on your sweaters," George observed. "I guess she thinks you're all smart enough to remember your names."

As Fred wrestled Percy into his sweater, Mary opened Hagrid's gift. It contained a small, hand-whittled wooden flute. When Mary blew into it, it sounded like an owl. Hedwig absently responded.

"Okay, Mary," George said. "This is one is from Dad. Tear it apart properly, this time."

She stared at them until Ron held up a gift of similar dimensions, grabbed a corner of the paper, and pulled it crossways with a satisfying RIP! Mary laughed and followed suit. Both boxes contained chocolates from a shop in Romania. She immediately popped one in her mouth and let it slowly melt over her tongue.

The next gift was roughly the size of a shoebox, wrapped in the tissue paper used to wrap said shoes. The attached note was a folded piece of scratch paper that read:

We received your school's newsletter and enclose your Christmas present.

From Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon

Taped to the note was a fifty-pence piece, which Mary handed to an intrigued Ron.

Mary tore off the tissue paper to reveal a box that once held Aunt Petunia's latest pair of fancy heels. She lifted the lid and pulled out three pieces of fabric. One was a deep red shawl with gold trim, the middle felt like some sort of silk wrap, and the third was definitely a baby blanket. Mary put a hand to her mouth.

"What's wrong Mary?" asked Percy.

"I think…" Mary swallowed. "I think these are what Hagrid wrapped me in when he found me. I mean, if Hermione's books even mention that he's the one who found me, after…"

She folded the silky wrap and baby blanket together and put them back in the box, and held the shawl up for close inspection.

"That looks crocheted," said George, gesturing for permission to feel it.

"Handmade, too," Fred agreed.

"You'd need some serious magic to do something like this by hand, wouldn't you?" Mary asked.

The weave was tight and strong, and the gold trim looked almost like a solid band. Percy ran it between his fingers and said, "No, we've seen Mum make blankets like this, but she can't spend that much time on sweaters she expects us to destroy."

Mary doubted Percy was ever rough with anything he owned, so he was being charitable to his brothers by including himself.

"Would you like to try it on, Mary?" Fred asked, and helped her pull it over her head without disturbing the drowsing Hedwig. It was very warm, and felt sturdy enough to fend off a stiff winter breeze.

"I can't believe the Dursleys kept these for all this time," said Mary, placing the lid back on the shoebox. She thought she might guess who'd made the shawl, and why Aunt Petunia never pitched it, but dwelling any longer on the matter would lead to a public display of compromising emotions.

"Well, this one's from Hermione," said Ron, saving her an awkward moment, "and I do believe that she got you a book. I got a box of chocolate frogs from her, so I'll share."

She tore the colorful paper to reveal her own copy of Quidditch Through the Ages. A card folded inside the cover read:

Merry Christmas, Mary!

I hope you haven't tried getting that book back from Snape. I talked to Professor McGonagall about it, and she's going to take care of our late fees, but she can't do anything about the five points from Gryffindor. Stay out of trouble, and I'll see you in the New Year.

Love from Hermione.

Mary stroked Hedwig's feathers as the Weasleys finished unwrapping their gifts. A large family resulted in a mountain of candy, clothing, and cards. They cheered over pictures of older cousins introducing new additions to the family, and told Mary stories from when they were younger. At eight o' clock, they stacked their gifts into precarious towers to carry up to their rooms.

"You could just make two trips," Mary suggested, placing her haul into a basket that had held treats they'd already demolished, and cradling a still sleeping Hedwig.

"It's part of the Christmas experience," Percy explained, balancing his own bundle. "I don't fight this one."

Mary tucked Hedwig into bed, dressed in her new Weasley sweater and surprise shawl, and joined the swarm of students heading downstairs for breakfast. Everyone was sharing and showing what they'd received, that morning, unless they'd just woken up. Neville and a few others brought their gifts to open in the Great Hall. Ron moved half of Neville's bundle on the table and launched himself into the meal as though he hadn't eaten in years.

Sophie and her family made an appearance, bringing novelties from Hogsmeade. She must have told them about Mary – and warned them not to be weird – because they kept sneaking glances in her direction whenever they thought she wasn't looking. To spare Sophie the embarrassment, she dismissed herself from the Weasleys and introduced herself. Sophie made room for her at the table, and everyone asked her the usual questions.

"How do you like Hogwarts, Mary?"

Very well, of course.

"How is your family getting on without you for the holidays?"

She omitted the part where they wanted nothing to do with her, and told her listeners that her family were visiting the ailing elder Dursleys, as they did most years. It wouldn't do to bring school germs home and share them with her cousin's grandparents.

"That's a lovely shawl, Mary," said Sophie. "is it new?"

"New to me," Mary responded, quickly and simply. "It's an heirloom."

"Does Sophie's snoring keep you awake at night?" a younger Roper asked, inciting laughter from the family and indignation from Sophie.

Something heavy leaned and brushed against Mary's legs. She looked under the table to see Gemma's large, purple cat. She gave her a scratch behind the ears, then waved to Gemma and her parents. Mary thought it would be nice to see Mr and Mrs Weasley at Hogwarts for a holiday.

After breakfast, they geared up for many hours outside. Sophie invited everyone to join her on the ice, which Mary and Neville emphatically declined. This aversion encouraged the Weasleys to frog march them to the lake for skating lessons. Both handled themselves better than they'd feared, and Mary had to admit that it was rather fun, despite wiping out every few minutes.

When they were satisfied with the newbies' attempts, everyone built forts in preparation for a massive snowball fight. Teams were loosely defined, but each maintained at least one older student to keep magical tactics balanced. Breathless and soaked through, they went back inside for a change of clothes and a light lunch. Percy used a drying charm on Mary's shawl so she didn't need to leave it with the rest of her wet clothing.

Mary and the others listened to the visiting families as parents, aunts, and uncles talked about how things were back in their Hogwarts days. Every once in a while, they touched on a uniquely incriminating story and left the ending untold, leaving the current students to come up with fantastic conclusions. When one mother mentioned the one-eyed witch statue by the kitchens, she caught a knowing smile from Fred and George.

Everyone had spent the entire afternoon in the Great Hall, and before they knew it, dinner was served. More people streamed in, from academy students and professors, to Mary's peers returning with their own families for the Christmas feast. The banquet was more extravagant than anything Mary had ever experienced. Anything she didn't have room to try, she saved in several large cloth napkins for later.

After dinner, Sophie returned to Hogsmeade with her family ("You're welcome," said the younger Roper child) and everyone who stayed returned to their respective common room. It was more crowded than the beginning of the holiday, but Gryffindor tower still had enough room for everyone to fit comfortably around the fireplace. They warmed anything they could fit onto a toasting fork, and the Weasley twins started deliberately dropping stuff into the fire. Most concerning, they asked Mary to bring down a sheet of tissue paper from the Dursley's gift, and a couple pieces of Hagrid's homemade paper. Mary decided that she didn't feel very sentimental about wrapping paper, so she gave them everything she had. They observed and took notes, saving half of Hagrid's homemade paper for later, or posterity; Mary didn't care which it was, and just appreciated how much they enjoyed themselves.

"Please don't encourage them," Ron begged. Percy voiced his agreement, and then set off for his Prefectly duties.


Alone in her dormitory, Mary set some dried meat on her bedside table for Hedwig as a treat for whenever she came back from hunting, and picked up her baby blanket. It was a mishmash of patchwork, and she tried to figure out where each square came from. Standing in front of the large mirror the girls shared, she draped it over her shoulders. It was almost too small for the corners to reach each other, but she could probably tie it like a bandana if she folded it into a triangle. She tried this and decided it wouldn't go with any of her clothes, not that she was any sort of authority on fashion. Maybe as a hat? No, that didn't work, either. She folded the blanket and set it in the trunk at the foot of her bed. Even if she didn't find a use for it, she felt oddly better knowing it was there.

The silky material was an oddity. Did Aunt Petunia include it by accident? It had been folded between the shawl and blanket, so maybe she simply hadn't noticed it. The fabric flowed over her fingers, almost like water, as she unfolded it to reveal a deceptively large and delicate cloak. No, it was light, but not delicate. She gave it a gentle tug to assure herself of that.

Mary pulled the cloak on and stifled a shriek when she looked in the mirror. Everything but her head was gone! She pulled a hand through one of the oversized sleeves and covered her head with the hood. It was translucent! She pulled it off, and the silvery cloak was opaque again. She jumped up and ran towards the boys dormitory. Ron had to see this. When she got to the door, she stopped herself and wondered if she wanted to share this discovery with Neville. With a twinge of guilt, she realized that she didn't. She decided to wait on telling Ron, but Hogwarts Castle was suddenly open to her!

Where to go? Even with an invisibility cloak, the castle could still be dangerous. Mary decided she'd start with the library.

Sneaking into the library, Mary thought. You're an absolute rebel, Potter.

She could read another book on quidditch that she'd been wanting to get her hands on, but Madam Pince had her suspended from checking anything out for having Quidditch Through the Ages confiscated by Snape. After that, she decided to wander over to the Restricted Section. There was powerful knowledge here that she couldn't use, yet, so why was it restricted? What could be so dangerous about reading a book?

Mary almost laughed when she saw that the Restricted Section was quartered off by nothing more than a velvet rope. She carefully stepped over it and perused the titles. The gentle glow from the library's sconces didn't reach these shelves, so she risked illuminating her wand when it grew too dark to see.

"Lumos," she whispered, and the cloak remained translucent while muffling the light.

She looked more closely at the bindings and guessed that some of these books were older than Hogwarts itself. One full bookcase boasted wisdom from the Library of Alexandria, and rows beyond that were filled with textbooks on alchemy. Further in, she came upon fairytales. Mary quietly laughed at herself, as this section felt more ominous to her than the section on hexes and curses. She reached for a text that had Brothers Grimm on the spine and opened it.

An earsplitting shriek filled the air. Mary dropped the book and it closed with a snap, but the scream continued. Hands shaking, she put the book back and bolted for the exit. As luck would have it, Peeves appeared, and he looked directly at her. He started laughing and spun in careless loops as Mary cowered next to a shelf by the doors. She knew what would come next, and there was Mrs. Norris at the window.

Filch opened the door to let the old rag doll in before entering himself, and Mary slipped out around him. Mrs. Norris froze and followed her with her nose, but stood confused as she didn't see anything. Peeves started spinning around Filch and the cat, and flew along the walls to put out all the lights.

"For crying out loud, Peeves!" Filch yelled.

Once out the door, Mary focused on putting as much distance between her and the library as possible. Like a bad joke, she realized she was in the Charms wing, again. Carefully considering her position, she decided she'd had enough adventure for one night and started for Gryffindor tower. Naturally, that was when Professor Snape and a sinister looking lot of academy professors started walking in her direction. A nearby door stood open, and she ducked in, praying that they wouldn't come in. She breathed a sigh of relief and slumped to the floor when they passed. A momentary rest was in order.

With her back to the wall, Mary looked around the room. It was odd how different familiar spaces felt at night. She knew the chalkboard and seats, and had some idea what materials were in the oakwood cabinets along the walls. One of them appeared to glisten, so Mary walked over to it. Upon closer inspection, Mary could see that a magnificent mirror leaned against the supply cabinet. It stood on two clawed feet and the golden frame held an inscription along the top: ERISED STRA EHRU OYT UBE CAFRU OYT ON WOHSI.

It looked really old, yet the glass was clear. From beside the mirror, Mary reached to touch its surface through her cloak and smiled at her lack of reflection. Then, feeling a little braver, she stood in front of the mirror, and clapped a hand over her mouth to stop from screaming. She spun around and fell to one knee, hand on her wand pocket.

The room was empty, but Mary had seen a crowd of people standing behind her in the mirror! She stood and slowly turned back to the mirror. Her blood froze as she realized that everyone in the mirror was looking at her. She stared back, willing herself to breathe. She looked back over her shoulder to the empty room, and back to the mirror. Did one of the apparitions just laugh at her?

Taking a moment to listen for footsteps, Mary slowly lowered the hood of her cloak, exposing her head down to the tops of her shoulders. This made two people at the very front of the crowd smile, and they each placed a hand on her reflections shoulder's. She felt the air where they should have been and sensed nothing. Their smiles turned a little sad.

Who are you? she wondered. She couldn't quite place who the man on her right looked like, but the woman on her left looked a little like Aunt Petunia with dark red hair and kind, green eyes. Mary realized that they looked like her own eyes, and she gasped. The woman appeared to laugh, and Mary realized that her smile also looked familiar.

"Mum?" Mary asked, and the woman nodded.

Mary smiled and marveled at how it so closely resembled hers. She looked back to the man, and recognized her father. She looked so much like him, from his unruly hair to the angle of his chin. Her eyebrows even arched in a similar way. The crowd behind them came into focus, and she noticed features she'd inherited from some of them.

"I'll be right back," Mary told them, and sprinted for the boys' dormitory in Gryffindor tower. She caught her breath and then crept into the first years' room. She made sure both Ron and Neville were asleep before pulling the invisibility cloak off.

She knelt beside Ron's bed and gently shook his shoulder.

"Ron! Wake up! You have got to come and see this! Ron!"

"Huh?" Ron rubbed his eyes and checked the time. "Mary? What's wrong?"

"Nothing! I've found something really cool that you need to see!"

Sensing Mary's agitation, he pushed through the fog of sleep and got to his feet. Instead of heading up to the girls' dormitory, Mary realized that nobody was in the common room and decided to spare them one flight of stairs.

"Here!" She grabbed his sleeve and pulled him over to the fireplace. "Watch this!"

She unfurled and brandished the silvery cloak.

"What!" Ron said, shocked wide awake. "Is that..."

He trailed off as she pulled it on.

"Bloody hell," he breathed. "That's a true invisibility cloak."

"True invisibility cloak?" Mary asked.

"Some only obscure you," Ron explained, inspecting one of her sleeves, "and they're not as fine as this. Others are similar, but they need to be recharged."

Mary's jaw dropped. "So this could have stopped working at any time?"

"What do you mean 'could have'?" Ron asked. "Have you already gone somewhere?"

"Yes! But you need to see it to believe me," Mary insisted, then froze. "You're sure this won't stop working on us?"

"As sure as I can be," he admitted. "We can ask Fred and George, tomorrow."

Mary drew her lips into a thin line, to which Ron responded, "They keep a lot of secrets of their own; they won't ruin this for you."

They arranged the cloak around the two of them and still needed to collect the spare length in handfuls. They practiced walking around the common room, and then carefully made their way back to the Charms corridor. Mary held her breath, suddenly worried that the mirror might have been removed while she was away, but it still stood in place. This time, Mary removed the cloak and folded it under her arm.

"An old mirror?" Ron asked, reading the inscription. "Oh, that's clever."

"What is?"

"Read it backwards."

"Oh," said Mary, smacking her forehead.

"So, what's special about this thing?"

Mary stood in front of it and waved him over. "What do you see?"

Ron gasped and Mary gave a happy bounce.

"I see myself," he said. "But I'm older. I'm Head Boy, and I've won the Quidditch Cup. I'm wearing a Captain's badge!"

"What?" Mary asked, looking up at him and frowning. She looked back at her own reflection, still seeing her family.

"So," said a voice behind them. "You have discovered The Mirror of Erised."

They both yelped and spun around. Professor Dumbledore stood in the doorway. He smiled kindly at them, and closed the door as he entered the room. Well, if they were in trouble, there was no point in playing dumb.

Mary hugged the cloak and repeated, "Mirror of Erised. Desire? This mirror shows us what we want to see?"

"Yes and no," said Dumbledore. "If you were the happiest person in the world, the mirror would show you exactly as you are."

"It shows us our deepest desires," said Mary, pretending this were a normal conversation.

Dumbledore nodded.

Ron hung his head. "That makes me kinda shallow, doesn't it?"

The professor chuckled. "I can remember growing up with siblings of my own. There's no evil in wanting to prove yourself."

Mary looked at her crowd of relatives and tried to place them by generation.

"Professor, would you know where my father's grandparents are from? On his mother's side, I think?"

"Ah," said Dumbledore. "Good people, both of them. They were from Japan, well over a century ago."

"So these are my parents," said Mary, looking into the faces of reflections no one else could see.

"The mirror does have the ability to show us reflections of the world around us, but it gives no true knowledge beyond the most desperate desires of our heart. Do with that what you will, but remember: It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live."

Mary felt hot tears spill down her cheeks and she quickly brushed them away. Ron squeezed her shoulder, and they both turned to Dumbledore.

"Now, in the spirit of Christmas cheer, I will not take any points from Gryffindor this night," he said. "If you will both follow me, I believe it is well past your bedtime."

They didn't encounter anyone on their way back to the Gryffindor common room, and Dumbledore bid them good night at the portrait. Mary and Ron parted at the spiral staircase, and she felt fatigue set in as she climbed the stairs. Hedwig was on the nightstand, enjoying her Christmas treat, and Mary fell asleep with the owl nestled against her cheek.