Chapter 11:

Reflected Desires

Ever since theQuidditch match, Snape had found himself worrying for Harry's safety. Before Christmas Day came to a close, he found another reason to worry.

Darkness had again fallen and everyone had gone to bed. Except for Snape. He was patrolling the corridors, particularly the ones on the third floor. He didn't trust Quirrell even if he was one of the teachers assisting Dumbledore, as also was Snape. He also didn't trust Harry Potter to not wander up there again. The boy had an irritating amount of curiosity.

Snape found the third floor empty. Even the portraits were snoozing.

Then a nightmarish scream echoed off the stone walls. It came from the library.

Filch met Snape in the next corridor. Filch's nasty smirk told all.

"We've got one, Professor," he said. "Found this in the Restricted Section."

He held up an extinguished lantern. One whiff showed it had recently been lit.

Snape felt a mixture of panic and anger.

Potter.

If Harry was up at this hour in the library, he could only be searching for the answer of what was hidden on the third floor.

"They can't be far," Snape growled and quickly headed towards the library.

As he and Filch turned the corner, something brushed by Snape's hand. He saw nothing and went on, but with a nagging feeling at the back of his mind.

The library was dark and still, not a soul to be seen. The Restricted Section, however, showed signs of having been disturbed.

Broken glass littered the carpet where Filch had discovered the lantern. One large book was not pushed in all the way on the lowest shelf. Snape shoved it in with a finger.

"Damn," he muttered.

"Don't you worry, Professor," Filch assured him. "If a student's out of bed, I'll catch em."

Snape had no doubt of it. He left the caretaker to that task.

On his way back to his office, Snape noticed a door in the corridor by the suit of armour. The door was slightly ajar.

The feeling of brushing past something there returned to Snape. It had felt like fabric; a strange liquid fabric. Like the material of an invisibility cloak.

Snape silently entered the room. Chairs and desks were piled off to the side and in the center of the room was the Mirror of Erised. Its great gold frame looked very much out of place in the dusty classroom.

In front of the mirror stood a small boy in pajamas. His black hair was untidy and around his feet lay a silvery cloak.

Harry Potter's face was reflected in the glass. Even in the gloom, Snape could clearly see the expression of his face. It was awash with joy and sadness.

Harry reached out and touched the mirror. "Mum? Dad?" he whispered.

Snape had no idea how long he stood there in the room with Harry, almost frozen to the spot as the boy stared at what he saw in the glass.

At last Harry leaned towards the mirror and softly said, "I'll be back."

Snape came to life and stepped out of sight as Harry threw on the cloak and vanished. Snape felt him walk past and saw the door edge open and then shut. Harry's footsteps faded.

Snape moved towards the mirror. There was a touch of guilt settling over him, as when someone overhears a great secret. Snape knew how the Mirror of Erised worked. It showed neither the past nor the future, neither wisdom or truth. The mirror would of course show the refection of the person standing before it, but it would also show much more. As the very name said, it showed not the face, but the hearts desire. It had showed Harry the family he had never known and would never be able to.

Snape stopped directly in front of the mirror. He knew exactly what he would see without having used the mirror in the past, even with the knowledge of it being in the castle. Even he had hidden desires.

Snape's reflection stared back at him; a tall, thin man with a hooked nose and pale face who was trying to hide behind his curtains of greasy hair and black robes.

And in the mirror, a woman stood beside him. She had dark red hair and bright green eyes. The same green eyes that Snape saw every day in Harry Potter. She was the same woman Harry had seen in the mirror.

Lily.

Snape wanted to look away, but he couldn't take his eyes off her face. The face he hadn't seen for over eleven long, painful years.

The woman put her arm around his reflection, her hand on his shoulder. Snape automatically put his hand there, even though he knew he would only find air.

The woman smiled at him sadly, tears gleaming on her face. Snape never cried. Only the weak cried. And yet, his own face was wet. He reached out and touched the glass, drawing an oval around the face he would never see again in this lifetime.

Snape was seeing something he could never have, never touch, yet longed for so much it still hurt him very deep inside. The greatest desire of his heart, which he could not obtain, because of the choices he had made. For a moment, a shadow of deep remorse overcame him completely.

A slight sound came from the hall. Snape shut his eyes and turned away from the mirror.

Mrs Norris, Filch's cat, stood by the door, her tail twitching slowly. Her large eyes looked up at him.

"Shoo!" Snape hissed at her. "There is nothing for you in here."

The cat blinked at him.

"Go," Snape said.

The cat obeyed and trotted off down the corridor.

Snape went in the opposite direction, shutting the classroom door behind him. His feet lead him not to the dungeons but to the headmaster's office.

Snape muttered the password and the stone griffon lept out of the way, revealing the entrance. At the top of the spiral stairs, Snape knocked on the door. Albus Dumbledore's voice answered.

Snape found him sitting behind his desk, in cap and dressing gown.

"Ah, Severus," he said. "What brings you here at such a late hour?"

Snape explained, leaving out the part about the lantern in the Restricted Section. The headmaster did not appear at all surprised about Harry's nighttime escapades.

"I wondered how long it would be before a student stumbled upon that mirror. I'm sure Harry will return again."

"Should I detain him?"

"Oh no no, let him. Another night will do no harm. The mirror will be moved in a few days as it is."

Snape shifted uncomfortably. Dumbledore's eye caught the movement.

"You looked as well, I gather?"

Snape nodded, his gaze downcast.

"We cannot change the past, Severus," Dumbledore said. "But we can alter the future by our own actions. The heart does not change willingly, but it can change."

Snape felt the harsh truth of his words and wished he didn't.

Was he willing to change?

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