The World of Erised
Chapter One
"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. Of course, they couldn't see him, 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 solid. He backed away as quietly as possible; 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 Harry 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 faded 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. Finally, he stepped in front of it and had to clap his hands to his mouth to stop himself from screaming. Harry 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 three other people standing right behind him. But the room was empty. Breathing very fast, he turned slowly back to the mirror. There he was, reflected in it, white and scared-looking, and there, reflected behind him, were three others. Harry looked over his shoulder, but still, no one was there. Or were they all invisible, too? Was he, in fact, in a room full of invisible people, and this mirror's trick was that it reflected them, invisible or not? He looked in the mirror again. A woman standing right behind his reflection was smiling at him and waving. He reached out a hand and felt the air behind him. If she were really there, he'd touch her, their reflections were so close together, but he felt only air; she and the others 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, precisely the same shape, but then he noticed that she was smiling but crying simultaneously. The tall, thin, black-haired man standing beside her put his arm around her. He wore glasses, and his hair was very untidy. It stuck up at the back, just as Harry's did. Harry was so close to the mirror now that his nose was nearly touching that of his reflection.
"Mum?" he whispered. "Dad?"
They just looked at him, smiling. And slowly, Harry looked into the face of the other person in the mirror; it was an older teenage girl with dark red hair and soft brown eyes; as Harry watched, the teenager winked at him before a teardrop ran down her cheek, and she wiped it with a sad smile,
"Who is she?" Harry thought as he watched his mother wrap her arm around the girl.
The Potters smiled and waved at Harry, and he stared hungrily back at them, his hands pressed flat against the glass as though he was hoping to fall right through it and reach them. But, instead, he had a powerful kind of ache inside him, half joy, half terrible sadness.
"I want to go there…." Harry whispered in a tight voice as tears began to race down his face, "I don't want to be alone anymore; please let me go there."
Suddenly, a bright glow surrounded Harry, temporarily blinding the boy, and the glass seemed to fall away; Harry's eyes widened in horror as he lost his balance and pitched forward into the mirror, disappearing completely a moment later.
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Rose Potter yawned lazily and stretched her arms over her head as she quietly strolled down the darkened hallway. It was well after curfew, and the third year knew that if she were caught, she would no doubt end up losing Gryffindor fifty points, at a minimum, depending on Professor McGonagall's mood.
Usually, Rose would not have to worry about such things as she would often have her invisibility cloak, but tonight, she was feeling particularly daring and so went out without it.
This was what Rose always did when she couldn't sleep; she would wander the corridors of Hogwarts, finding comfort in the darkness that surrounded her and the magic that seemed to permeate every inch of the castle.
Tonight was particularly hard for her, and it was why she had elected to wander without the protection of her cloak,
"This would have been Harry's first year of Hogwarts," Rose thought sadly, "What house would he have been sorted into, I wonder?"
As Rose's thoughts strayed to the little brother she had lost ten years ago, a tear ran down her cheek, and she slowly wiped it away as she took a shaky breath, taking comfort in the cold air that filled her lungs.
"Guess I'd better head back," Rose thought as she turned to head back the way she had come. Before she had taken a single step, however, a bright light emanated from under a door in front of her, and the door seemed to bulge outwards as though something was trying to push it open as Rose stared, her eyes widened in surprise.
"What the bloody hell was that?" Rose thought when the light had finally dissipated; ordinarily, Rose would have no problem investigating something new and strange, she loved doing so, but that was when she had her invisibility cloak to keep her from being seen.
Biting her lip in indecision for a moment, Rose sniffed in annoyance at her own curiosity before finally slowly edging toward the door as quietly as she could; taking a deep breath to steady herself, Rose eased the door open and peeked inside.
Her eyebrows rose to her hairline as she saw a small boy lying alone in the empty room, seemingly out cold. Slowly, Rose made her way into the dark room and warily approached the boy; he was wearing Gryffindor robes, yet Rose couldn't remember seeing him anywhere in Gryffindor tower.
A moment later, Rose's expression changed from surprise at finding the kid all alone to angry as she saw that lying next to him was what appeared to be her invisibility cloak,
"Hey!" Rose barked as she gently shoved the still-out cold boy with her foot, "Hey, wake up, kid!"
Slowly, the boy woke up and rose to a sitting position, though his eyes still looked a little glassy,
"What's going on? Who are you?" The boy asked as he slowly took in his surroundings.
"That's my question," Rose growled softly, "Who are you, and why do you have my invisibility cloak?!"
"What?" The boy asked, bemused, "That's…that's mine! It belonged to my father!"
"Want to try again, kid?" Rose retorted as she grabbed the boy and roughly hauled him to his feet before pinning him to the nearby wall, "That is my cloak! MY father gave it to me for my thirteenth birthday, and it's supposed to be locked up in my trunk, so why do you have it?!"
The boy stared at Rose in silent fear for a moment, and Rose found her curiosity rising still further as she took in the boy's appearance; he looked like a younger version of her father, except for the eyes, which were almost identical to her mother's.
"Who are you, kid?" Rose demanded, making the boy look at her with surprise,
"You don't know who I am?"
"I wouldn't have asked if I did!" Rose sneered,
"I'm Harry Potter," The boy replied, making Rose turn crimson with rage.
"How DARE you?!" Rose snarled, making the boy flinch, "How dare you use my little brother's name! I should hex you right here!"
Harry turned pale, and tears ran down his cheeks as he looked at the teenager in confusion,
"But…. but that's my name!" Harry said in a small voice, "I'm not lying, I swear!"
Rose said nothing as she gazed at the boy claiming to be her brother; the similarities between him and her parents were astounding, but that could easily be explained away; he could have taken Polyjuice or something similar.
"Please…." The boy whimpered piteously, "Please don't hurt me, I don't know what's going on, but I'm not lying about who I am! I really am Harry Potter, and I don't have any siblings!"
As Rose looked at the boy, she felt tears begin to form in her eyes; she had been taught from an early age how to spot a lie from her father and uncle Sirius, and while the boy was clearly afraid, there was no dishonesty in the boy's eyes.
"Harry…..?" Rose whispered, her eyes widening in shock, "Is that you?"
Without waiting for an answer, Rose pulled the boy into a hug, causing him to flinch violently and bang his head hard against the wall behind him; the boy's eyes rolled back into his head, and he promptly collapsed into Rose's arms a moment later.
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Many considered Albus Dumbledore to be the wisest and most powerful wizard alive, and while that was not a thought that Dumbledore shared, it was one that he was forced to endure nonetheless. Still, even with all his power and wisdom, even Dumbledore knew that there were things about magic that remained a mystery, even to him. One of those mysteries seemed to be lying right in front of him, brought to the Hospital Wing by Rose Potter an hour ago in the form of a young boy seemingly unconscious. When Dumbledore had been summoned by Madam Pomfrey, he had thought that one of the students had been injured, and he had rushed down as quickly as he could, only to find a distraught Rose Potter sitting next to a sleeping child who looked alarmingly like a young James Potter. That wasn't the strangest thing, however; the most peculiar thing was when Madam Pomfrey began her medical evaluation, waving her wand over the boy as the parchment next to her began to write down all the injuries that the boy had and at the top of the parchment read the words:
Harry James Potter.
Father- James Charlus Potter
Mother- Lily Marie Potter nee Evans.
"Is this accurate, Poppy?" Dumbledore asked in a soft voice, "There's no mistake?"
"There's no mistake, Albus." Madam Pomfrey replied, "I don't know how to explain it, but this boy is the child of Lily and James Potter."
"But he's supposed to be dead," Dumbledore replied, frowning slightly as a sob came from Rose, who was holding Harry's hand as though it were a lifeline, "How is this possible?"
"I don't know, Albus," Madam Pomfrey replied, "It's a miracle. That's the only explanation I can come up with."
"It's him," Rose said softly, making the two adults turn to her, "I don't know how, but it's Harry!"
Dumbledore stared at the boy thoughtfully as Rose changed interminably between laughing and crying.
Harry Potter died when he was a year old, killed by Lord Voldemort; Dumbledore had attended the funeral. He'd seen how distraught the Potters were; poor Lily had been inconsolable when they had lowered the boy's casket into the ground, and it was only sheer strength of will that kept Dumbledore from openly weeping.
"The Potters will need to be informed," Dumbledore said softly as he gazed down at the sleeping boy, "I will Floo them immediately and let them know that their son has been returned to them."
Rose issued another laugh/sob at that, and Dumbledore placed a gentle hand on her shoulder before turning and making his way out of the Hospital Wing and back to his office.
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James and Lily Potter were sharing a late nightcap before bed when Dumbledore's head suddenly appeared in their fireplace, to the bemusement of them both,
"Professor Dumbledore!" James called warmly, "A bit late for a call, isn't it? Is everything alright?"
"Is Rose alright?" Lily asked, "She hasn't pulled another stupid prank, has she?" James looked offended at his wife's comment, and Dumbledore chuckled lightly,
"Rose is perfectly alright, I can assure you," Dumbledore replied cheerfully, "Another matter has arisen that requires you both. Can you both come to my office immediately?"
James and Lily shared a look before James replied,
"We'll be right there."
"Excellent," Dumbledore said with a smile, "Then I'll see you both momentarily,"
Dumbledore then withdrew his head from the fireplace as James and Lilly quickly made their way upstairs to get changed out of their pajamas.
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As Harry slowly began to regain consciousness, the first thing he noticed was that someone was holding his hand very tightly; slowly, Harry opened his eyes to see who it was, but unfortunately, without his glasses, all he could see was a blur.
"Harry! You're awake!" A voice next to him said,
"Who…. who are you?" Harry asked softly, "Where am I?"
"My name is Rose," the voice replied, "And you're safe. You're in the Hospital Wing."
Very gently, someone placed Harry's glasses in his face before taking his hand in theirs again, and Harry saw that it was the girl who had attacked him earlier, making him pale and try to pull his hand out of her grip.
"Harry, I am so sorry that I attacked you," Rose said in a small broken voice, "Please don't be afraid of me. I promise that I'm not going to hurt you!"
"Who are you?" Harry asked in a scared voice, though he had stopped trying to pull his hand free, much to Rose's relief,
"My name is Rose Potter, Harry." Rose said softly, noting how the boy's face paled at the revelation, "And I'm your big sister."
"That's…. that's not possible," Harry muttered, "I don't have a sister."
"Yes, you do," Rose said gently as she placed a warm hand on Harry's cheek; so shocked was Harry at the news that he had a sister that he didn't pull away from the touch, and Rose smiled at the boy, even as tears began to run down her cheeks.
"Mum and dad should be here soon; I imagine they're looking forward to seeing you," Rose said with a smile. Harry's eyes went so wide that Rose thought they would pop out, then Harry promptly fell back onto the pillow in a dead faint; Rose looked at her brother for a moment and then proceeded to burst into laughter at what had just happened.
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Lily sat in the chair in front of Dumbledore's desk, her face so pale that she looked like a ghost; behind her, James stood, gripping her chair so hard that his knuckles were white. Truthfully, it was only by holding onto the chair that James could stay standing as he felt like his legs had turned to rubber after hearing what Dumbledore had just said.
"He's alive?" Lily said so softly that Dumbledore almost missed it, "My baby is alive? How is this possible?"
"It's not," James said simply, "Harry died, Albus. You were at his funeral; we buried him ten years ago!"
"Indeed," Dumbledore replied sadly, "And yet, the boy currently sleeping in the hospital wing IS Harry Potter, your son."
Lily let out a laugh that sounded like a sob and buried her face in her hands, and James placed his hand on her shoulder as his eyes became misty with unshed tears,
"Where did he come from?" James asked as his wife sobbed, "This shouldn't be possible."
"That is something I would like to know as well," Dumbledore replied, his eyes twinkling like mad, "So perhaps we should all make our way down to the Hospital Wing and find out."
James nodded and almost laughed when his wife jumped to her feet and sprinted out the door, leaving him alone with Dumbledore, who was smiling with genuine happiness,
"I feel sorry for anyone who tries to stop Lily from reaching young Harry,"
"You and me both," James laughed as the two made their way after Lily.
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When Harry woke up the second time, it was to the peculiar feeling of someone gently stroking his hair; as Harry opened his eyes, they widened in surprise at the beautiful red-headed woman sitting next to him and seemed to be fighting the urge to sob.
"I know you…." Harry said softly, making the woman smile at him, "I saw you in the mirror…."
"What mirror?" A voice asked from the other side of Harry; turning, Harry released a surprised gasp at the man sitting on the other side of him next to Rose.
"You were in the mirror too…." Harry replied in a small voice,
"Perhaps it would be better if you start from the beginning," Dumbledore said as he made his way out from behind the curtain, startling Harry.
"Professor Dumbledore, sir. What's going on?" Harry asked, not taking his eyes off of the man in front of him for fear he would vanish.
"That's precisely what I would like to know, Harry," Dumbledore replied warmly, "So why don't you tell us how you came to be here,"
"I won't get expelled?" Harry asked softly; the thought of leaving Hogwarts was literal torture for Harry.
Dumbledore raised an eyebrow at Harry's question, and a slight grin appeared on his face before he answered,
"I give you my word, Mr. Potter, that you will not be expelled."
Harry nodded slowly, turning his attention back to the woman who was looking at him as though he were a priceless treasure.
And so Harry began to talk; he told of how he, Ron, and Hermione had involuntarily discovered the three-headed dog on the third floor,
("What the bloody hell were they doing keeping that in a school full of children?!" James had demanded,) and how Hagrid had accidentally let loose that whatever it was guarding involved someone named Nicholas Flamel. Harry then told of how the trio suspected that Professor Snape was trying to steal it and that they hoped they could somehow stop him from doing so by discovering what it was. ("Harry, what were you thinking?!" Lily had asked in shock)
Then, Harry told of how he had received his father's cloak for Christmas and how he had used it to sneak into the restricted section to look for information on Nicholas Flamel ("You used my cloak to study?!" James had said, aghast,) and how Harry had ended up in front of the mirror and saw his family for the first time and desperately wanted to be with them; then the glass had disappeared, and Harry had fallen through the mirror and ended up here.
The room was dead quiet when Harry had finished speaking, with everyone looking at Harry with different expressions; Dumbledore was looking at Harry with intrigue and curiosity, while James, Lily, and Rose were staring at him with sadness and shock.
"Amazing," Dumbledore said simply, "Truly an amazing tale. And to answer your question, young Mr. Potter, Nicholas Flamel is an alchemist who created an astounding magical object. However, why he would ask to hide it at Hogwarts is another matter entirely."
"Harry…." Lily said softly, "What did you mean when you said that was the first time you've ever seen us?"
Harry looked down at his lap and sniffled softly before replying in a broken voice,
"Where I come from, you and dad are dead. You were both killed by Voldemort when he attacked our house on Halloween; that's how I became the Boy-Who-Lived because I survived and somehow beat him."
"We're…. we're dead?" James whispered, "But surely Sirius would have shown you pictures of us?"
"I don't know who that is," Harry replied, looking up.
Dumbledore was astounded, but for an entirely different reason, and it took the old man a moment to speak after what he had just heard,
"You defeated Lord Voldemort? How?"
"No one knows," Harry replied softly, "Just that I somehow survived and got this scar on my forehead as a result."
Harry raised his bangs to show the lightning bolt scar, and the watchers looked at it in shock for a moment before Lily regained control of herself,
"Harry, who did you go to when we died?" Lily asked tensely, "Who raised you?"
"Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon," Harry replied, turning his gaze back to his lap as the adults paled in horror.
"No…" Lily whispered, "Why would you be sent to THEM?! Anyone would have been better! Where was Sirius?! Or Remus!? Where were Alice and Frank?!"
"I'm sorry, mum," Harry replied sadly, "But I don't know who any of those people are. I didn't even know I was a wizard until Hagrid showed up with my letter."
Lily looked ready to murder at that, and Harry flinched, expecting to be hit as he usually was by his Aunt and Uncle; Lily saw this and immediately took her son in a hug, noticing with despair as he flinched in her embrace.
"I'm not going to hurt you, Harry," Lily said softly as she held him tight, tears running down her cheeks. "No one will ever hurt you again, I promise."
"Are you really here?" Harry asked, desperation evident in his voice, "Is this really happening?"
"We're here, son," James said as he joined his wife in hugging their son, "And we'll never go away again."
A moment later, Rose had joined the group hug, and for the first time in his life, Harry cried not from despair or pain but rather from happiness.
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An hour later, James and Lily stood in Dumbledore's office, having left Harry when the boy had finally fallen asleep; Rose had been forced to go back to her common room on the threat of having her broom taken away for a month as she didn't want to leave her brother alone.
"A different dimension?" James asked incredulously, "You're joking, right?"
Dumbledore laughed cheerfully at the comment for a moment before replying,
"I assure you that I am not. The mirror that Harry saw is called 'The Mirror of Erised,' it is an incredibly powerful magical object which shows the most desperate desires of our hearts to whosoever looks into it. Now, normally all it does is show the viewer what they desire, but Harry must have been so desperate to join those he saw within the mirror that his magic enacted with that of the mirror in his world and brought him to one where you both are still alive, AND he even has an elder sister."
Lily and James were too stunned to reply; their baby had been returned to them but how it had come to pass seemed too fantastic to be believed,
"Will he have to go back?" James asked, making Lily stare at him in horror for a moment before she turned to Dumbledore, who was resting his chin on his fists.
"Honestly? I have no idea how such a thing would even be possible," Dumbledore replied softly, "And I doubt we will find such a way, so for now, Mr. Potter has no choice but to remain here in our world."
Lily slowly sank into a nearby chair and began to cry tears of happiness at the news that Harry would be able to stay while James gently squeezed her shoulder,
"Furthermore," Dumbledore added, "When Harry left his world, he said it was Christmas, and yet, here in ours, the term just began three weeks ago, which leads me to believe that his world is a little further along than ours. And speaking of which, have you two decided what is to be done with Harry?"
"What do you mean?" James asked,
"Well, Harry will have to restart his first year all over again," Dumbledore explained cheerfully, "But since he has already completed the first term of the year if you two would like, he can go home with you instead and come back after Christmas break. The decision is entirely up to you, of course."
Lily and James looked at one another in silent conversation for a moment; it would be wonderful to have their child back with them again, and since Harry had already completed his first term at Hogwarts, it wouldn't hurt to have him home for a few months while they got things settled, a child coming back from the dead would naturally cause more than a few stirs in the magical world.
Finally coming to a silent decision, the two Potters turned back to Dumbledore, who was smiling as though he already knew what their decision would be.
"We'll take Harry home until the next term begins," Lily said softly, "The boy has been separated from us for long enough, and there are things that need to be done."
"Indeed," Dumbledore said solemnly, pressing his fingers together in thought, "The world believes that Harry Potter died ten years ago; we will need to think of some way to bring Harry back into the world without too many people asking questions that we cannot properly answer."
"What do you mean?" James asked,
"Dimension travel is a very legendary field of magic," Dumbledore said thoughtfully, "It is a subject that is very closely studied by the Unspeakables in the Department of Mysteries, and if they were to learn that young Harry is indeed a traveler from a different dimension, I fear they would take him into custody to study him."
"No!" Lily almost screamed in anger and horror, "My son is not a lab rat to be poked and prodded! And I won't let anyone take my baby from me again!"
"Nor will I," James added with a dark look, "I'll kill anyone who tries."
"I believe you," Dumbledore said with a nod, "But, to ensure that doesn't happen, I believe a cover story should be created regarding Harry."
"Such as?" James asked,
"I will think of something and present it to you when I have a believable story that we can use," Dumbledore said warmly, his eyes twinkling cheerfully, "Until then, I suggest you go and spend some time with your son."
Lili and James nodded happily, and the two quickly left to return to their son's side in the hospital wing while Dumbledore smiled after them. The Potters deserved this reward after all they had suffered and lost during the war.
Once they were gone, however, Dumbledore's mood turned solemn; Harry had survived Voldemort's attack in his world, which meant that the prophecy regarding the boy had been fulfilled. But did that also mean that the prophecy in this world would be as well? Dumbledore had almost abandoned hope that Voldemort would be defeated for good since the death of Harry Potter ten years ago. True, he had been very severely wounded by James that night, but if the prophecy was to be believed, only Harry could truly destroy the Dark Lord for good, and if that were the case, then perhaps Harry being sent here was more than chance, perhaps it was fate.
Dumbledore would ponder this question long into the night as the two Potters sat beside their son, happier than they had been in a very long time.
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Author's Note:
I can literally hear you people screaming,
"You already have three fanfics that you're working on; why would you start another?"
The answer to that is an easy one; because my brain hates me, lol.
I'll write an entire chapter of one of my fics, but then I'll read an interesting one on FFN or AO3, and my brain will go,
"I could write something like that!" And then, the idea won't leave me alone until I write it down, then I can get back to my previous fic again. I don't know where I'm going to take this one, but as long as people like it or I stay interested, I'll keep writing it. But I have to give credit where credit is due; I was inspired to write this fic after reading "Through the looking glass by MyraValhallah,"
I hope you enjoy it.