It was a rainy night at the Cloister, which meant that Sally-Anne was sure to have several of the girls in residence visit her room. "Sally-Anne, will you tell us a story?" one of the younger girls asked, leading a quintet of girls around her age into Sally-Anne's room.
Sally-Anne looked at the quintet. It appeared that someone had put something red in with their white state issued night shirts, again. She was also certain that none of them were complaining about the night shirts turning pink.
"Okay, take a seat on the bed, and I shall tell you a tale of a boy who encountered the Mirror of Erised," Sally-Anne said, choosing a story she'd figured she need to tell, given the particular girls involved and their persistent belief that everything could go back to the way it was.
"It had all started with a present that Harry Potter had received at Christmas, a family heirloom, handed down from father to son. It had been left in the hands of persons unknown after his father's death, but it was apparently time to pass it on to its rightful owner. That is why it ended up under the tree that Christmas Day in the little bed and breakfast in Kingston-upon-Thames.
"We shall not go into the reason for Harry to be there, instead of at Hogwarts his first year, for that is a tale for another time, one I can not tell what I know of it. Just know that he was in that bed and breakfast with Professors Snape and McGonagall when he opened the package.
"It should be noted that Professor Snape nearly took the present away, before he looked at the tag. It said that he mumbled something about bloody bumblebees, but as far as I am aware, there were no bleeding bearers of honey around.
"So it should be of no surprise that Harry did not wish to try out the sneaking around Hogwarts that Professor McGonagall had told him that his father had often done when he might encounter Professor Snape. The cloak was, after all, his father's, and Harry has very little from either of his parents. Every bit of it is treasured by that boy.
"So, he chose to go ghosting through the halls of Hogwarts, not late at night, but on a Saturday Afternoon. As to why, on a Saturday afternoon, Harry found a need to go exploring under a cloak, there were two reasons. One, Hermione had gotten rather upset at his hovering over her in the Hospital Wing, and as for the other...
"Harry Potter, despite what you may hear in the Prophet, or from Professor Snape, is not an attention seeker. Every once in a while he gets a bit tired of all the staring. You would think that five months in, everyone would have been done with staring at his scar. Harry certainly though they would, but he's been constantly proved wrong. It seems like every time he need to relax and someone would be staring at him, and that was something that made Harry very uncomfortable.
"So, this time, when the Ravenclaws started to hail him down for more questions about his scar, Harry turned the corner, and tossed the cloak over him. To them, he disappeared, as he hid behind the suit of armor to let them pass. He almost giggled as they were puzzled by his disappearance.
"Just as they passed by, he stepped backwards, discovering a hidden door to a hidden room. Harry couldn't resist opening the door and entering the room, still wearing his invisibility cloak.
"The room was deep inside Hogwarts, but not so deep as to not allow for a sky light to highlight the one item in the room. Standing in that light was an ornate mirror, with an inscription etched around its frame. 'Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi.' I will not translate it, at the moment. It is not time.
"There in the that room, Harry doffed his cloak, and took a closer look the mirror. At first, it seemed that his reflection was there, but that lasted but a second, maybe two. Then the image changed, and his reflection was joined by Hermione's, but not Hermione as she was. No, this Hermione held a baby, and Harry wasn't as he was either. He seemed to be a bit older, definitely taller, as Hermione put the baby in his arms. She snuggled up against him, and behind him appeared vestiges he'd only seen in pictures.
"A man, quite a bit taller than him, with messy hair, and brown eyes stood behind Harry in the mirror, placing his hand on Harry's shoulder. And then there was the woman, with long flowing red hair, standing just to Harry's left, as she reached down to touch the nose of the baby. The little baby's hand reached out to touch and grasp at the woman's finger.
"It was an image of family, Harry's family. It was not the Dursleys with their prim and proper lives with no room for magic in their lives. Indeed it was something they did not wish to intrude on their lives. Their lives were poorer in the rejection. No, this was different. This was what Harry wished for. It was something that had always been out of his grasp, but now — now everything was possible. It was magic.
"Harry could not draw himself away from the mirror. Its images of a family, an image of a past denied to him combined with a future promised to him, was strong. It was not until the grumbling of his belly, knowing better than his mind that it was time to eat, became audible that he was able to look away, to get away, knowing that he had to return.
"So afternoon after afternoon, after class, after class, Harry found himself stopping to look at the mirror, to watch himself hold the baby. To see other children join in an extended family that he wished he had. Every time he visited the mirror, he did so wishing to see more, so he did.
"It was many days that Harry sought out the mirror, but one day, instead of an otherwise empty room, he found the Headmaster, sitting in front of the mirror on a rather plush chair. On a pillar next to him was an old fashioned alarm clock. A tear was running down his cheek as he looked at something that only he could see.
"Harry approached him, and said, 'Headmaster? Are you okay?'
"Headmaster Albus Dumbledore looked up, an unexpected weariness and sadness in his face. 'I am. I see you have discovered the delights of the Mirror of Erised?'
"'I see my family in it. What do you see, Headmaster?' Harry asked.
"For a moment, Harry thought that the Headmaster was not going to answer, or say something that wasn't real, but after a moment's silence, he spoke up in a sad tone. 'I see my family, too. Harry. One day a year, my sister's birthday, I allow myself to look in the mirror, for only a few minutes. I allow myself to see my mother, my sister, she would have been a hundred and six today. It's hard to see her as that. I always see her as six, playing the garden, as my mother hung the laundry. She was only fourteen when she died, caught in the middle of spellfire that should have never happened.'
"The Headmaster dried his eyes and met Harry's eyes with his own. They were not twinkling, like they normally did. Instead they were filled with resolve.
"'Harry, many a man has wasted away sitting in front of the Mirror of Erised, for it shows not reality, but one's deepest desire. If it was not for some very good friends, I might have been one of them. The mirror will be moved tomorrow. Do not seek it out again.'
"'I won't,' Harry said. And then, after a moment's silence, looking at his family, one last time, committing it to memory, he turned back to the Headmaster. 'Tell me about your sister.'
"For the next hour, the Headmaster and Harry sat by the mirror, neither looking into it, as the Headmaster told about his little sister, who he had lost and loved."
Sally-Anne sat back on her bed. The quintet sitting there with her seemed to be a bit upset about her tale.
"That's not a story," one of the girls said.
"There are many stories, not all of them being adventures," Sally-Anne said. "Some have told and learned, even without the big adventure. I have seen the Mirror of Erised, and the risks are real, not just by sitting in front of it."
"What do you mean? Another girl asked.
"If all you do is dream, you will dream your life away," Sally-Anne said. "Now, off to bed. I need my beauty sleep."