[ twenty-one, the mirror of erised ]

[Late that night, a lantern and hand appear, but nothing else. The ensemble walks through the dark library and into the Restricted Section. The lamp is put down, and the cloak removed, revealing to be Aemma who searches the bookshelves.]

The Blacks smiled, for this was exactly what Lucerys would have done had she been gifted such a particular artefact amid a mystery: she would have used it to further her research on the matter, utterly disregarding any possible rules and easily bypassing any and all security measures to obtain the truth.

An amused smile lit up Baela's features as she gazed upon her sister. "You're still like a dog with a bone, I see," She now regretted not verbalising it enough, but she'd always admired both her sisters for their different strengths. Rhaena's was quiet yet steady like an arrow that always hit true, while Lucerys' was the chaos of battle and burned brighter than her dragon's flames ━ they couldn't have been any different, yet Baela would have trusted them both with her life.

Ron chuckled as his head shook slightly. "Oh, trust me, there hasn't been a mystery this one hasn't tried to uncover," Then again, it wasn't as if Aemma could conduct a blissfully ignorant and carefree life; Dumbledore had seen to that, of that they were sure.

Still, her curiosity and inability to abandon any argument had paid off in the end, for she'd been the one to convince Draco to switch sides earlier on than he probably would have, making their lives and ending Voldemort far easier.

Aemma: Famous fire eaters. 15th-Century Fiends. Flamel. Nicholas Flamel. Where are you?

[Aemma picks up a book and opens it. A man's face appears from between the pages, which screams madly and loudly. Aemma immediately slams the book shut and puts it back.]

Alicent, much like other people, jumped back in fright, clinging to her son Aemond out of habit. "What ━ what was that?" She asked shakily, for books were meant to be sacred, yet what she witnessed on the screen questioned all the teachings she'd received as a child. 'No,' She shook her head vehemently. 'Our texts are blessed by the Seven; theirs have clearly been refused by the Gods, thus cursed,' She quietly reassured herself as she returned to beg for forgiveness for even entertaining the lives of a group of heretics.

( She would have spent hours in the Sept begging for forgiveness following this farce, for her heart had been tempted more than once to accept these heretics, an unacceptable behaviour for a truly Gods-fearing woman )

"That," Hermione commented lightheartedly. "Is why you should always know what book you're about to peruse," Had someone told this to a younger version of herself, she would have promptly scoffed. However, that girl had yet to experience what it felt like almost having her hand devoured before their Third Year just because she wished to get ahead in her studies and simplify her life or discover that pureblood families had entire libraries full of cursed books neither she nor Aemma could ever touch due to their 'tainted' or 'diluted' blood.

There was no denying: this world was just as beautiful and hypnotising as it was dangerous and treacherous, a powerful combination that miraculously worked in those lands yet would have shattered in Westeros. Whilst Rhaenys was happy her grandchildren had been given a second chance, the more she learnt about this new world, the more she wondered how fair of an exchange it had been, for danger seemed to lurk around every corner, even where it should not have been.

Filch: Who's there?! [Aemma whips around and quickly grabs her cloak, causing the lamp to fall and shatter.]

"Potter Luck™?" Queried Ron, his features as serious as they could be and lacking any sign of mocking, almost as if he was referring to something tangible and not just a concept that only further confused the Westerosi citizens present.

As soon as Aemma nodded, a somewhat befuddled Daemon inserted himself into the conversation, for he hated nothing more than being unaware of what was unfolding around him. "What is this 'Potter Luck™' you're speaking of?" He asked his daughter, hoping to receive an answer and not suffocating silence due to a contract previously signed.

Once she'd spared a brief glare at Death as if to challenge It to contradict her definition, Aemma turned to her former parents with what could only be described as a mischievous glint in her eyes. "The Potter Luck™ is what both us and my father's friends playfully refer to as an Entity that clung onto my family generations past, bringing about quite the opposite of what the name entails. Basically, the Potters have always been unlucky, and we figured it must have been due to something external; otherwise, it doesn't make any sense." She heard the loud scoff originating from Death, but she didn't bother turning around, for they'd had endless conversations regarding the matter, and she refused to entertain It any further ( no matter how logical Its explanation happened to be ).

Before Rhaenyra's panic could take root, Death's chilling voice resonated within the room. "There's no such thing as a Potter Luck™," It bemoaned, for It had lost count of the times It had told Aemma the same thing. "Both you and Lord Voldemort shared the same amount of fortune for reasons I've often explained to you." Peverell blood was cursed blood, yet not in the way many might have thought; they either basked in glory or were targeted by others and their kin, forever living in ignominy ━ only the owner of the cloak could escape such thing, often suffering less with bouts of poor luck.

As Death talked, horror gripped Rhaena's soul, for who in their sound mind would wish their sister to share something, no matter how intangible, with the monster who'd attempted to end her life? Fate, as heartless as ever, had struck again and laughed in the face of a girl who'd given everything once to stop Its bloody plans and to save thousands of people. Its revenge was brutal and savage, for it tied her to the man who'd attempted to kill her in more ways than one, a torture not even akin to existing within the same room as Aemond.

Filch: I know you're in there. You can't hide. [Aemma puts on her cloak and creeps around Filch.] Who is it? Show yourself!

[Aemma runs from the room, doing her best to muffle her breathing. She exits into the hall, where there's Mrs. Norris, who meows and begins to follow her. Aemma runs around a corner, just as Snape and Quirrell appear. Snape pushes Quirrell into the wall.]

Most of the room sat at the edge of their seat, for this was a confrontation long in the making. Although only a couple of them believed Snape to be innocent, they had to agree that the current turn of events didn't paint the Potion's Professor in the best light, for it made him come across as the aggressor and not someone who'd been trying to defend whatever had been hidden within the bowels of the School. Still, these individuals weren't swayed by Quirrell's act, having witnessed many men wear masks as well sculpted as the DADA Professor and weaving narratives that could fool even the brightest minds.

Not that he cared about what had unfolded in the past, but even Otto Hightower could see right past Quirinus Quirrell's charade. In his expert opinion, the Potion Professor donned a more carefully crafted mask than the forced innocent one the DADA Professor kept on projecting to no avail, for anyone with any experience in the art of reading people would have been able to see right through him.

It didn't come as a shock that the children believed Quirrell to be innocent, and, loathe as he was to admit it, their lack of experience in the matter and complete absence of guidance excused this major mistake. Otto had no doubt that, over the years, each had learnt from their mistakes, making them all the more dangerous and essential allies to their cause.

Quirrell: Severus... I-I thought...

Snape: You don't want me as your enemy, Quirrell.

Quirrell: I don't know w-what you m-mean.

Snape: You know perfectly well what I mean. [Snape senses something which causes Aemma to stop breathing. Snape reaches out to grab something but doesn't. He whips his finger back in front of Quirrell's face.]

Much like Aemma, Aegon held his breath as if he'd been present with his niece and feared being caught. "That was a close call," He eventually breathed out shakily, clinging to the settee's armrest now that he'd discarded his goblet. "I thought the Cloak to be invisible; how could he perceive its presence?" Many turned to him with shocked expressions, for they hadn't predicted a solid and logical question from the boy who usually drowned himself in his cups. Aegon knew what they thought of him, yet he did not mind. His reputation could remain sullied for all he cared about; thus, he simply shrugged nonchalantly.

Torn on what to disclose, Aemma trusted Neville's judgement on the matter, for the last thing she wanted was to accidentally breach a contract with dire consequences. "Let's just say this isn't the first time Snape has had an encounter with the Invisibility Cloak," Neville quickly explained, skillfully avoiding the mention of Aemma's father and his best friends and all the times they'd used the Cloak to pull a mild prank on 'Snivellus' ━ memories they'd witnessed thanks to Sirius. "Plus, he's always been a paranoid tosser, so even if he couldn't see Aemma, he'd want to double-check."

Snape: We'll have another chat soon. When you've had time to decide where your loyalties lie.

Nothing else was impeding Aemond's pride from swelling within himself as he realised that he'd been right all along about the Potion Professor's true nature; a snake with a poorly crafted mask set out to rob the School and grievously harm his beloved. The rage he'd kept at bay all this time suddenly flared into an inferno he could not nor did he want to control. Smugness intermingled with unbridled fury, the same kind that had kept him going since that evening when he'd lost his eye.

Viserys felt a chill run down his spine, for this was a conversation he should have had with multiple of his Courtiers, and yet, his inability to see the truth had led his family to the brink of a war that had to be halted by the sacrifice of one of their own. His multiple failings as king and father caused him to be wary of Quirrell instead of Snape, for the latter was doing what he'd failed at throughout his whole reign: seeing possible threats and behaving accordingly, even if he had to resort to threats.

( He willingly forgot all the times he'd allowed Otto to whisper poison in his ear and pit him against his brother, causing him to lash out, embracing his Targaryen fury and wrongly directing it towards the person who'd always been there for him )

Oh, he wasn't fond of the man, for his hatred and treatment of innocents reminded him far too much of the disgraced knight and his second wife, but he could appreciate the man's effort in attempting to thwart the actual culprit's masterplan.

[Filch arrives, carrying the broken lantern.]

Filch: Oh, Professors. I found this in the Restricted Section. It's still hot. That means there's a student out of bed.

[Upon hearing this, Snape and Quirrell dart off]

[A door opens and then it closes. On the other side, there is a vast, empty room that has a large mirror in the centre known as the Mirror of Erised.]

There was something eerie about that mirror, for why would it be housed within a room by its lonesome if it were not a powerful artefact? Throughout his travels, Corlys had learnt to steer clear from objects such as this one, no matter how powerful the call might have been, for often, what lures a person can also keep them trapped. "Do not give in to temptation; stay away from that mirror," He warned his granddaughter, his tone urgent, although he, unfortunately, knew his words would fall on deaf ears due to Aemma's recklessness, curiosity and the fact that they couldn't intervene with the memories of a past long gone.

[Aemma appears and walks over to the mirror. In the reflection, she sees two people appear who are Aemma's late parents, James and Lily Potter.]

Helaena dabbed at her eyes as she witnessed the reflection of her niece's parents standing behind her for the first time ever. It was simultaneously heartwarming and heartbreaking, for even if they were nought but reflections, a mere reflection, the undying love in their eyes couldn't be denied, even if it was nothing but the mirror's design.

Aemma: Mum? [Lily nods and smiles] Dad? [James nods and smiles. Aemma reaches out to touch them but only gets the mirror. Then, her mother puts her hand on her shoulder. She puts her own hand on her own shoulders, as if trying to feel her there.]

Most of the people in the room were tearing up by now, witches and wizards included, because while they'd been told about what had unfolded, seeing it evoked a series of entirely different emotions. Witnessing their best friend and partner glimpsing at her parents for the first time was an emotional moment none of them were likely to ever forget, one that allowed them to better understand Aemma's personality even after all these years.

Rhaenyra was inconsolable; she'd long since abandoned her mask, uncaring of how others perceived her, as her eyes pooled with tears. Regardless of all the things she'd witnessed, the sight of her sweet girl seeking comfort in her parents' reflection shattered her heart with a force akin to the most violent of waves. Oh, how she wished Lily and James Potter could have been more than just a reflection, for Aemma deserved to grow up surrounded by love and acceptance, not hatred and rejection. Her beloved daughter deserved the opportunity to experience familial love, something she, unfortunately, couldn't receive through a mirror.

Once he finally composed himself, Daeron observed the three individuals on the screen. "You were not lying; you truly look like your father," He told his niece with raised eyebrows. This made matters somewhat confounding since both father and daughter shared some infamous Valyrian otherworldly traits, looking akin to the same person who'd long since left the Targaryen fold.

"It looks like someone chose to take her revenge on the world not once, but twice," Commented Rhaenys once she'd dabbed her eyes, her tone mirthful. "It's time to open your eyes, cousin, and accept that they both look like our dearly departed Viserra." She looked at Viserys, raising a challenging brow, for she knew the man would otherwise live in denial even in his death, claiming his granddaughter looked exactly like Aemma Arryn.

[Back in Gryffindor Tower, Aemma makes her way into the boy's dormitory, invisible.]

An indignant gasp left Alicent lips, for no proper Lady would ever behave in such a matter and intrude on a boy's room with such nonchalance, especially at such an age she could no longer claim ignorance regarding the consequences of her actions and how they could destroy her. "Like mother, like daughter," She whispered to herself, for neither of them had ever shown any interest in upholding the rules and behaved as if they did not apply to them in the slightest, for they believed themselves superior to everyone else and acted as such.

"How did you ━ ?" Hermione didn't need to finish her query, for Aemma already knew what confused her friend.

"Third and fourth step," She explained simply and with a mischievous wink. "All you have to do is skip those, and you'll be let through ━ courtesy of Fred and George, of course." She'd learnt a lot from the twins over the years, and it all started because of a harmless prank she'd pulled on a Slytherin who'd been particularly mean to Neville one evening.

Aemma: Ron, you've really got to see this! Ron, you've got to see this! [pulls back covers. Ron wakes up.] Ron, Ron, come on, get out of bed!

Ron: [tired] Why?

Aemma: There's something you've got to see. Now, come on!

[Back in the room. Aemma and Ron appear as if magically and Aemma runs to the mirror.]

Aemma: Come on! Come! Come look, it's my parents!

Rhaena's heart broke anew, for how cruel was it that the only time her sister could see her parents alive and well was through a mirror with powers untold, one she didn't trust in the slightest, for how could it summon the likeness of the dead as if they still walked amongst them? She didn't know what she would have seen had she peered in its reflection ( nor did she ever want to discover it, for this was one piece of magic she wasn't thrilled to interact with ), just like she couldn't imagine the pain that accompanied her sister's wandering thoughts about those who gave her life.

Even the ever-hateful Criston felt his heart thaw as he witnessed an innocent orphan be lured by the powers of an object that promised her something she'd always dreamt of; a true family, the love she'd always been denied due to her nature and the cruelness of those who'd raised her. The more he thought about it, the more he deemed it impossible not to be heartbroken for the little girl and feel a certain degree of bitterness towards Fate for Its designs.

'This is not me being attracted to the temptress; this is me upholding my vows,' Cole justified his thoughts. His eyes wandered to the witch in question and met the irate glare of her paramour, who held his wand at the ready.

Ron: I only see us.

Aemma: [moves over] Look in properly. Go on, stand there. There. You see them, don't you? That's my dad.

Ron: That's me! Only I'm head boy. And I'm holding the Quidditch cup. And bloody hell! I'm Quidditch Captain too! I look good. Aemma, do you think this mirror shows the future?

Aemma: How can it? Both my parents are dead. [Aemma smiles sadly.]

Aemma's words felt like a blow to the chest to Daemon, who exhaled shakily. He understood how it felt to lose a parent early on in life and yearn for that connection with such strength that one would cling to anything to fill that hollowed space that had materialised within upon their passing.

Such a trail of thought and his daughter's companion's reaction to the mirror gave him pause and made him ponder on the object's true purpose. If what he suspected was correct, then he dearly hoped his daughter ceased her visits to the mirror post haste, for otherwise her conditions would have only worsened, and his anger would have flared, for who in their right mind would leave such object unattended in the middle of a school filled with children?

As people either reacted to Aemma's words or wondered about the mirror's properties, one person amongst the Westerosi citizens sat calmly in her seat, for she already knew the truth behind the object everyone was attempting to decipher.

As individuals casually chatted amongst themselves, some more emotional than others, Helaena tilted her head, wondering what she'd see if she was ever granted the chance to peer within the glass. Once upon a time, it would have been all her children alive and well and playing around her as they oft did, but Lucerys had already ensured that her wish became reality by giving up her life for all of theirs and forever changing the future. 'So what would it be now?' She pondered. The possibilities were endless, and a new kind of thrilling excitement coursed through her veins for the first time in a while.

[One day, in the Great Hall where most of the students, particularly the Weasleys are eating, Aemma sits in front of the fireplace.]

George: Do you like yours, Ron? [Ron turns to Aemma who still sits in front of the fireplace who is very quiet.] Ron?

Ron: I'll be right back. [He leaves the table and comes up to Aemma.] Want to play chess?

Aemma: No.

Ron: Wanna go and visit Hagrid?

Aemma: No.

Ron: Aemma, I know what you're thinking, but don't. There's something not right about that mirror.

Rhaenys nodded in agreeance, her initial fascination having long since bled into apprehension upon her realisation of the mirror's possible powers and how easily addicting said object could become if one wasn't careful enough or well-informed. "You're a smart individual and a good friend," She complimented the redhead, who immediately ducked his head, blushing madly.

Unfortunately, regardless of what his companions told him, Ron didn't deem himself the best friend one could hope to have, for in all his childhood foolishness and Horcrux-induced anger, he'd often let his best friends down. Sure, each offence had been forgiven and long since forgotten by the other two members of the Golden Trio, but Ron doubted there'd ever be a day he wouldn't strive to make up for all he'd done throughout their Hogwarts years and whilst on the run, aiming to become a better version of himself and thus a better friend to those who'd always deserved it.

[Aemma nods and Ron leaves to go back to the table as Aemma continues to stare at the fireplace.]

[The next night, Aemma is back in the room where the mirror is, gazing longingly at the reflection where his parents are in. Dumbledore appears far behind her]

Startled by the sudden appearance of the Headmaster, Aegon jumped back, squinting his eyes as he gazed at the man who apparently knew of Aemma's late-night escapades. His facade was kind and benign, yet the prince couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to him than he liked to portray, a version akin to his grandsire, one willing to do the unthinkable to reach his ultimate objective.

Whereas Aegon was Otto's puppet, it wasn't hard to surmise that Aemma was to be the Headmaster's pawn and being so naive in the matter, Aegon was willing to wager the man would have succeeded in his dastardly plan without any complication. Once again, he felt a deep sense of kinship with his niece but also a high level of indignation and severe anger for how she would have certainly been used throughout the years, for something told him that, unlike him, she wouldn't have realised the extent of the betrayal and manipulation until it was too late.

Dumbledore: Back again, Aemma? [Aemma turns around and stands up.] I see that you, like so many before you, have discovered the delights of the Mirror of Erised. I trust by now you realise what it does. Let me give you a clue. The happiest man on earth would look into the mirror and see only himself, exactly as he is.

Ever the scholar, Aemond furrowed his brows, finally paying attention to the inscription atop the mirror. "Mirror of Erised; Mirror of Desire, now the reflections make sense." He murmured to himself, gazing at the object with a newfound appreciation, yet already knowing what it'd show him if he ever gazed within its depths; Aemma beside him whilst he was wearing the Conqueror's crown.

"A dangerous object to leave around unattended with so many students still working on discovering their true selves," Chided Viserys, whose only interest right now was to keep his granddaughter as far away from the tempting mirror as humanly possible. He'd long since lost interest in the object, for how could he appreciate something that tempted and controlled his granddaughter? It only served to send chills down his spine.

Aemma: So then, it shows us what we want. Whatever we want.

Dumbledore: [whilst looking at the mirror] Yes. And no. It shows us nothing more or less than the deepest most desperate desires of our hearts. Now you, Aemma, who have never known your family, you see them standing beside you.

Daemon had only ever believed in the Fourteen, yet Dumbledore's words had a strong effect on him, one that caused him to turn towards Death with pleading eyes and a silent request that the Entity immediately understood. Generally speaking, Daemon was not a man of prayer, yet, at that moment, he found himself beseeching a Being he'd never believed in before to bless his daughter and grant her peace and happiness by briefly resurrecting her parents like he'd done with Viserys.

Unbeknownst to the former princess, the Rogue Prince wasn't the only one silently pleading with a Being who met each of their requests with utter silence, several people overcoming their abject fear of the God to ensure the girl's partial happiness.

Dumbledore: But remember this, Aemma. This mirror gives us neither knowledge or truth. Men have wasted away in front of it. Even gone mad. That is why tomorrow it will be moved to a new home. And I must ask you not to go looking for it again.

"Of course, place a mirror that has caused more than one individual to lose their mind somewhere accessible to all students," Scoffed Daeron, who was starting to comprehend why the witches and wizards didn't consider Hogwarts as safe as it was deemed to be. "Let's hope this is the last we see of this damned mirror," He added whilst glaring at the object on the screen and completely missing the awkward glances exchanged between the four visitors, all of whom were well aware this wouldn't be the last they'd see of the object.

Harbouring minimal trust in the man, Rhaenys pursed her lips tightly before voicing her thoughts. "It was certainly a big coincidence for the mirror to be somewhere Aemma could easily visit daily," She stated sarcastically, believing it was more of a test of Aemma's character and strength than mere happenstance.

Multiple people nodded in agreement, concurring that something was afoot, and poor, naive Aemma had no clue.

Dumbledore: It does not do to dwell on dreams, Aemma, and forget to live. [Aemma looks back at the mirror, knowing that Dumbledore is right.]

Whilst Aemma could hold a grudge, she was mature enough to appreciate all the valuable lessons Dumbledore had taught her throughout the years, precious wisdom only a fool would let go to waste out of bitterness and anger, and that could oft be applied to everyday life. Dumbledore's teachings and words of wisdom would have always resonated within her, one of the few tethers that remained to a man who'd taught her so much but delivered an unbelievable blow in the end.

author's note.     Here's an update to wish happy holidays and a merry Christmas to everyone who celebrates. I'd also like to thank each of you for getting this book to 100k; it truly means the world to me!