CHAPTER ELEVEN !

THE MIRROR OF ERISED
( the philosophers stone )

_________________

CHRISTMAS WAS COMING. One morning in mid December, Hogwarts woke to find itself covered in several feet of snow. The lake froze solid and the Weasley twins were punished for bewitching several snowballs so that they followed Quirrell around, bouncing off the back of his turban. The few owls that managed to battle their way through the stormy sky to deliver mail had to be nursed back to health by Hagrid before they could fly off again.

  No one could wait for the holidays to start. While the Gryffindor common room and the Great Hall had roaring fires, the drafty corridors had become icy and a bitter wind rattled the windows in the classrooms. Worst of all were Professor Snape's classes down in the dungeons, where their breath rose in a mist before them and they kept as close as possible to their hot cauldrons.

  "I do feel so sorry," said Draco Malfoy, one Potions class, "for all those people who have to stay at Hogwarts for Christmas because they're not wanted at home."

  He was looking over at Raven and Harry as he spoke. Crabbe and Goyle chuckled. Raven and Harry, who were measuring out powdered spine of lionfish, ignored them. Malfoy had been even more unpleasant than usual since the Quidditch match. Disgusted that the Slytherins had lost, he had tried to get everyone laughing at how a wide mouthed tree frog would be replacing Harry as Seeker next and Raven as a Chaser. Then he'd realized that nobody found this funny, because they were all so impressed at the way Harry and Raven had managed to stay on the bucking broomsticks. So Malfoy, jealous and angry, had gone back to taunting Harry and Raven about having no proper family.

  It was true that Raven and Harry weren't  going back to Privet Drive for Christmas. Professor McGonagall had come around the week before, making a list of students who would be staying for the holidays, and Raven and Harry had signed up at once. They didn't feel sorry for themselves at all; this would probably be the best Christmas they ever had. Ron and his brothers were staying, too, because Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were going to Romania to visit Charlie. Apollo was also staying.

  When they left the dungeons at the end of Potions, they found a large fir tree blocking the corridor ahead. Two enormous feet sticking out at the bottom and a loud puffing sound told them that Hagrid was behind it.

  "Hi, Hagrid, want any help?" Ron asked, sticking his head through the branches.

  "Nah, I'm all right, thanks, Ron."

  "Would you mind moving out of the way?" came Malfoy's cold drawl from behind them. "Are you trying to earn some extra money, Weasley? Hoping to be gamekeeper yourself when you leave Hogwarts, I suppose—that hut of Hagrid's must seem like a palace compared to what your family's used to."

  Ron dived at Malfoy just as Snape came up the stairs.

  "WEASLEY!"

  Ron let go of the front of Malfoy's robes.

  "He was provoked, Professor Snape," said Hagrid, sticking his huge hairy face out from behind the tree. "Malfoy was insultin' his family."

  "Be that as it may, fighting is against Hogwarts rules, Hagrid," said Snape silkily. "Five points from Gryffindor, Weasley, and be grateful it isn't more. Move along, all of you."

  Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle pushed roughly past the tree, scattering needles everywhere and smirking.

  "I'll get him," said Ron, grinding his teeth at Malfoy's back, "one of these days, I'll get him—"

  "I hate them both," said Raven, "Malfoy and Snape."

  "Come on, cheer up, it's nearly Christmas," said Hagrid. "Tell yeh what, come with me an' see the Great Hall, looks a treat."

  So the five of them followed Hagrid and his tree off to the Great Hall, where Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick were busy with the Christmas decorations.

  "Ah, Hagrid, the last tree—put it in the far corner, would you?"

  The hall looked spectacular. Festoons of holly and mistletoe hung all around the walls, and no less than twelve towering Christmas trees stood around the room, some sparkling with tiny icicles, some glittering with hundreds of candles.

  "How many days you got left until yer holidays?" Hagrid asked.

  "Just one," said Hermione. "And that reminds me—Raven, Apollo, Harry, Ron, we've got half an hour before lunch, we should be in the library."

  "Oh yeah, you're right," said Ron, tearing his eyes away from Professor Flitwick, who had golden bubbles blossoming out of his wand and was trailing them over the branches of the new tree.

  "The library?" said Hagrid, following them out of the hall. "Just before the holidays? Bit keen, aren't yeh?"

  "Oh, we're not working," Harry told him brightly. "Ever since you mentioned Nicolas Flamel we've been trying to find out who he is."

  "You what?" Hagrid looked shocked. "Listen here—I've told yeh—drop it. It's nothin' to you what that dog's guardin'."

  "We just want to know who Nicolas Flamel is, that's all," said Hermione.

  "Unless you'd like to tell us and save us the trouble?" Raven added. "We must've been through hundreds of books already and we can't find him anywhere—just give us a hint—I know I've read his name somewhere."

  "I'm sayin' nothin'," said Hagrid flatly.

  "Just have to find out for ourselves, then," said Ron, and they left Hagrid looking disgruntled and hurried off to the library.

  They had indeed been searching books for Flamel's name ever since Hagrid had let it slip, because how else were they going to find out what Snape was trying to steal? The trouble was, it was very hard to know where to begin, not knowing what Flamel might have done to get himself into a book. He wasn't in Great Wizards of the Twentieth Century, or Notable Magical Names of Our Time; he was missing, too, from Important Modern Magical Discoveries, and A Study of Recent Developments in Wizardry. And then, of course, there was the sheer size of the library; tens of thousands of books; thousands of shelves; hundreds of narrow rows.

  Hermione took out a list of subjects and titles she had decided to search while Ron strode off down a row of books and started pulling them off the shelves at random. Apollo, Raven, and Harry wandered over to the Restricted Section. Raven had been wondering for a while if Flamel wasn't somewhere in there. Unfortunately, you needed a specially signed note from one of the teachers to look in any of the restricted books, and she knew she'd never get one. These were the books containing powerful Dark Magic never taught at Hogwarts, and only read by older students studying advanced Defense Against the Dark Arts.

  "What are you all looking for?"

  "Nothing," said Harry.

  Madam Pince the librarian brandished a feather duster at him.

  "You'd better get out, then. Go on—out!"

  Wishing they had been a bit quicker at thinking up some story, they left the library. Raven, Apollo, Harry, Ron, and Hermione had already agreed they'd better not ask Madam Pince where they could find Flamel. They were sure she'd be able to tell them, but they couldn't risk Snape hearing what they were up to.

  Harry, Apollo, and Raven waited outside in the corridor to see if the other two had found anything, but weren't very hopeful. They had been looking for two weeks, after A, but as they only had odd moments between lessons it wasn't surprising they'd found nothing. What they really needed was a nice long search without Madam Pince breathing down their necks.

  Five minutes later, Ron and Hermione joined him, shaking their heads. They went off to lunch.

  "You will keep looking while I'm away, won't you?" said Hermione. "And send me an owl if you find anything."

  "And you could ask your parents if they know who Flamel is," said Ron. "It'd be safe to ask them."

  "Very safe, as they're both dentists," said Hermione.

  Once the holidays had started, Raven, Ron, Apollo, and Harry were having too good a time to think much about Flamel. They had the dormitory to themselves and the common room was far emptier than usual, so they were able to get the good armchairs by the fire. They sat by the hour eating anything they could spear on a toasting fork—bread, English muffins, marshmallows—and plotting ways of getting Malfoy expelled, which were fun to talk about even if they wouldn't work.

  Ron also started teaching Harry wizard chess. This was exactly like Muggle chess except that the figures were alive, which made it a lot like directing troops in battle. Raven had found wizard's chess to be quite boring. Ron's set was very old and battered. Like everything else he owned, it had once belonged to someone else in his family—in this case, his grandfather. However, old chessmen weren't a drawback at all. Ron knew them so well he never had trouble getting them to do what he wanted.

  Harry played with chessmen Seamus Finnigan had lent him, and they didn't trust him at all. He wasn't a very good player yet and they kept shouting different bits of advice at him, which was confusing. "Don't send me there, can't you see his knight? Send him, we can afford to lose him."

  On Christmas Eve, Raven went to bed looking forward to the next day for the fun, but she missed Hermione, and was not expecting any presents at all. When she woke early in the morning, however, the first thing she saw was a small pile of packages at the foot of her bed.

Raven, Ron, Harry, and Apollo had all gathered into the common room by the fire to open presents. Since the Hufflepuff common room was basically empty, Apollo was staying with the three in the Gryffindor common room.

Harry picked up the top parcel. It was wrapped in thick brown paper and scrawled across it was To Harry, from Hagrid. Inside was a roughly cut wooden flute. Hagrid had obviously whittled it himself. Harry blew it—it sounded a bit like an owl. Raven had also gotten a wooden flute from Hagrid.

  Next was addressed to both the twins small parcels contained a note.

  We received your message and enclose your Christmas present. From Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia.

  Taped to the note was two fifty pence pieces.

  "That's friendly," said Harry sarcastically. Raven rolled her eyes.

  Ron was fascinated by the fifty pences.

  "Weird!" he said, "What a shape! This is money?"

  "You can keep it," said Raven, laughing at how pleased Ron was. "Hagrid and our aunt and uncle—so who sent these?"

  "I think I know who that one's from," said Ron, turning a bit pink and pointing to a very lumpy parcel. "My mom. I told her you two didn't expect any presents and—oh, no," he groaned, "she's made you Weasley sweaters. All three of you."

  Raven watched as Harry had torn open the parcel to find a thick, hand knitted sweater in emerald green and a large box of homemade fudge.

Raven opened her parcel to find a dark purple thick knitted sweater and a box of homemade fudge as well.

Apollo had gotten a sweater with fudge. His was a golden one.

  "Every year she makes us a sweater," said Ron, unwrapping his own, "and mine's always maroon."

  "That's really nice of her," said Harry, trying the fudge, which was very tasty.

  Harry's next present also contained candy—a large box of Chocolate Frogs from Hermione.

Raven noticed she had a quite a few things from Hermione. She had gotten the same large box of Chocolate Frogs, but Hermione had also gotten her a book about magical creatures. She realized she had told Hermione about her liking towards them. The book was called: The Fascinating History of Magical Creatures. The final thing she got from her was a small black parcel. She opened it to find a rose gold chain locket with a heart charm with a rose engraved on it. She blushed a little and put it around her neck then noticed the note that was taped to the book,

Hope you like the book I knew you loved magical creatures. I saw the necklace and thought of you, miss you and Merry Christmas!
From, Hermione xo

Raven folded up the note and put it in her pocket feeling her cheeks get hot. She didn't realize Hermione cared so much about her.

  This only left one parcel. Harry picked it up and felt it. It was very light. He unwrapped it.

  Something fluid and silvery gray went slithering to the floor where it lay in gleaming folds. Ron gasped.

  "I've heard of those," he said in a hushed voice, dropping the box of Every Flavor Beans he'd gotten from Hermione. "If that's what I think it is—they're really rare, and really valuable."

  "What is it?"

  Raven picked the shining, silvery cloth off the floor. It was strange to the touch, like water woven into material.

  "It's an Invisibility Cloak," said Ron, a look of awe on his face. "I'm sure it is—try it on."

  Harry and Raven threw the cloak around their shoulders and Apollo and Ron gave a yell.

  "It is! Look down!" says Apollo.

The twins looked down at their feet, but they were gone. They dashed to the mirror. Sure enough, their reflections looked back at them, just their heads suspended in midair, their bodies completely invisible. They pulled the cloak over their heads and his reflection vanished completely.

  "There's a note!" said Ron suddenly. "A note fell out of it!"

  Harry pulled off the cloak and seized the letter. Written in narrow, loopy writing he had never seen before were the following words:

  Your father left this in my possession before he died.

  It is time it was returned to you both.

  Use it well.

  A Very Merry Christmas to you.

  There was no signature. Harry and Raven stared at the note. Ron was admiring the cloak.

  "I'd give anything for one of these," he said. "Anything. What's the matter?"

  "Nothing," said Harry. Raven felt very strange. Who had sent the cloak? Had it really once belonged to their father?

  Before she could say or think anything else, the dormitory door was flung open and Fred and George Weasley bounded in. Harry stuffed the cloak quickly out of sight. He didn't feel like sharing it with anyone else yet. Raven felt the same way.

  "Merry Christmas!"

  "Hey, look—Raven, Apollo, and Harry have got a Weasley sweater, too!"

  Fred and George were wearing blue sweaters, one with a large yellow F on it, the other a G.

  "Raven's, Apollo's, and Harry's are better than ours, though," said Fred, holding up Harry's sweater. "She obviously makes more of an effort if you're not family."

  "Why aren't you wearing yours, Ron?" George demanded. "Come on, get it on, they're lovely and warm."

  "I hate maroon," Ron moaned halfheartedly as he pulled it over his head.

  "You haven't got a letter on yours," George observed. "I suppose she thinks you don't forget your name. But we're not stupid—we know we're called Gred and Forge."

  "What's all this noise."

  Percy Weasley stuck his head through the door, looking disapproving. He had clearly gotten halfway through unwrapping his presents as he, too, carried a lumpy sweater over his arm, which Fred seized.

  "P for prefect! Get it on, Percy, come on, we're all wearing ours, even Raven, Apollo and Harry got one."

  "I—don't—want," said Percy thickly, as the twins forced the sweater over his head
, knocking his glasses askew.

  "And you're not sitting with the prefects today, either," said George. "Christmas is a time for family."

  They frog-marched Percy from the room, his arms pinned to his side by his sweater.

  Raven and Harry had never in all their life had such a Christmas dinner. A hundred fat, roast turkeys; mountains of roast and boiled potatoes; platters of chipolatas; tureens of buttered peas, silver boats of thick, rich gravy and cranberry sauce—and stacks of wizard crackers every few feet along the table. These fantastic party favors were nothing like the feeble Muggle ones the Dursleys usually bought, with their little plastic toys and their flimsy paper hats inside. Harry pulled a wizard cracker with Fred and it didn't just bang, it went off with a blast like a cannon and engulfed them all in a cloud of blue smoke, while from the inside exploded a rear admiral's hat and several live, white mice. Up at the High Table, Dumbledore had swapped his pointed wizard's hat for a flowered bonnet, and was chuckling merrily at a joke Professor Flitwick had just read him.

  Flaming Christmas puddings followed the turkey. Percy nearly broke his teeth on a silver sickle embedded in his slice. Raven and Harry watched Hagrid getting redder and redder in the face as he called for more wine, finally kissing Professor McGonagall on the cheek, who, to Raven and Harry's amazement, giggled and blushed, her top hat lopsided.

  When the twins finally left the table, they were laden down with a stack of things out of the crackers, including a pack of nonexplodable, luminous balloons, a Grow-Your-Own-Warts kit, and Harry's own new wizard chess set. The white mice had disappeared and Raven had a nasty feeling they were going to end up as Mrs. Norris's Christmas dinner.

  Raven, Harry, Apollo, and the Weasleys spent a happy afternoon having a furious snowball fight on the grounds. Then, cold, wet, and gasping for breath, they returned to the fire in the Gryffindor common room, where Harry broke in his new chess set by losing spectacularly to Ron. He suspected he wouldn't have lost so badly if Percy hadn't tried to help him so much.

  After a meal of turkey sandwiches, crumpets, trifle, and Christmas cake, everyone felt too full and sleepy to do much before bed except sit and watch Percy chase Fred and George all over Gryffindor tower because they'd stolen his prefect badge.

  It had been Raven and Harry's best Christmas day ever. Yet something had been nagging at the back of Ravens mind all day. Not until she climbed into bed was she free to think about it: the Invisibility Cloak and whoever had sent it.

Their father's . . . this had been their father's. Raven realized she let Harry keep it in his dorm. Use it well, the note had said. She got up and quietly walked down to the common room somehow suspecting Harry would walk down there with the cloak.

Soon enough there he was.

"Let's go." Harry whispered and through the cloak over Raven as well and they made their wat out of the common room.

  "Who's there?" squawked the Fat Lady. Harry nor Raven said nothing. They walked quickly down the corridor.

  Where should they go? They stopped, Ravens heart racing, and thought. And then it came to her.

"The Restricted Section in the library!" she whispered to Harry. They'd be able to read as long as they liked, as long as it took to find out who Flamel was. Then they set off, drawing the Invisibility Cloak tight around them as they walked.

  The library was pitch black and very eerie. Harry lit a lamp to see the way along the rows of books. The lamp looked as if it was floating along in midair, and even though Raven could see Harry's arm supporting it, the sight gave her the creeps.

  The Restricted Section was right at the back of the library. Stepping carefully over the rope that separated these books from the rest of the library, he held up his lamp to read the titles.

  They didn't tell the twins much. Their peeling, faded gold letters spelled words in languages neither could understand. Some had no title at all. One book had a dark stain on it that looked horribly like blood. The hairs on the back of Raven's neck prickled. Maybe she was imagining it, maybe not, but she thought a faint whispering was coming from the books, as though they knew someone was there who shouldn't be.

  They had to start somewhere. Setting the lamp down carefully on the floor, they looked along the bottom shelf for an interesting-looking book. A large black and silver volume caught Harry's eye. He pulled it out with difficulty, because it was very heavy, and, balancing it on his knee, let it fall open.

  A piercing, bloodcurdling shriek split the silence—the book was screaming! Raven snapped it shut, but the shriek went on and on, one high, unbroken, earsplitting note. They stumbled backward and knocked over the lamp, which went out at once. Panicking, they heard footsteps coming down the corridor outside—stuffing the shrieking book back on the shelf, they both ran for it. Passing Filch in the doorway; Filch's pale, wild eyes looked straight through them, and Harry and Raven slipped under Filch's outstretched arm and streaked off up the corridor, the book's shrieks still ringing in Raven's ears.

  They came to a sudden halt in front of a tall suit of armor. They had been so busy getting away from the library, and hadn't paid attention to where they were going. Perhaps because it was dark, Raven didn't recognize where she was at all. There was a suit of armor near the kitchens, she knew, but she and Harry must be five floors above there.

  "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."

  Raven felt the blood drain out of her face. Wherever they were, 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."

  Raven and Harry stood rooted to the spot as Filch and Snape came around the corner ahead. They couldn't see them, of course, but it was a narrow corridor and if they came much nearer they'd knock right into the twins—the cloak didn't stop them from being solid.

  They backed away as quietly as they could. A door stood ajar to Ravens left. It was their only hope. They squeezed through it, holding their breath, trying not to move it, and to their relief the twins managed to get inside the room without them noticing anything. They walked straight past, and Raven 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 they 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 them 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.

The panic fading now that there was no sound of Filch and Snape, Harry and Raven moved nearer to the mirror, wanting to look at themselves but saw no reflection again. They stepped in front of it.

  Raven had to clap her hand to her mouth to stop herself from screaming and covered Harry's mouth with her other hand. They whirled around. Hearts were pounding far more furiously than when the book had screamed—for they had seen not only themselves in the mirror, but a whole crowd of people standing right behind them. But the room was empty. Breathing very fast, Raven and Harry turned slowly back to the mirror.

  There they were, reflected in it, white and scared looking, and there, reflected behind them, were at least ten others. Harry looked over his shoulder—but still, no one was there. Or were they all invisible, too? Were they in fact in a room full of invisible people and this mirror's trick was that it reflected them, invisible or not?

They looked in the mirror again. A woman standing right behind the twins reflection was smiling at them and waving. Raven reached out a hand and felt the air behind her. If she was really there, she'd touch her, their reflections were so close together, but dhe 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 and Harry's, Raven thought, edging a little closer to the glass. Bright green—exactly the same shape, but then she noticed that she was crying; smiling, but crying at the same time. Raven noticed that the woman's hair was the exact same color as hers. The tall, thin, black haired man standing next to 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.

  They were so close to the mirror now that their noses were nearly touching that of their reflections.

  "Mum?" Raven whispered.

"Dad?" Harry whispered.

  They just looked at them, smiling. And slowly, Harry and Raven looked into the faces of the other people in the mirror, and saw other pairs of green eyes like theirs, other noses like theirs, even a little old man who looked as though he had Harry's knobbly knees and a little old woman who had Ravens red hair—Harry and Raven were looking at their family, for the first time in their lives.

  The Potters smiled and waved at Harry and Raven and they stared hungrily back at them, Ravens hands pressed flat against the glass as though she was hoping to fall right through it and reach them. She had a powerful kind of ache inside him, half joy, half terrible sadness.

  How long they stood there, they didn't know. The reflections did not fade and Raven looked and looked until a distant noise brought her and Harry back to their senses. They couldn't stay here, they he had to find the way back to bed. Raven tore her eyes away from his mother's face, Harry whispered, "We'll come back," and hurried from the room.

  "You could have woken me up," said Ron, crossly.

  "You can come tonight, I'm going back, I want to show you the mirror."

 
  "I'd like to see your mom and dad," Ron said eagerly.

  "And I want to see all your family, all the Weasleys, you'll be able to show me your other brothers and everyone."

  "You can see them any old time," said Ron. "Just come round my house this summer. Anyway, maybe it only shows dead people. Shame about not finding Flamel, though. Have some bacon or something, why aren't you eating anything?"

  Harry couldn't eat. Raven just didn't. They had seen their parents and would be seeing them again tonight. Raven had almost forgotten about Flamel. It didn't seem very important anymore. Who cared what the three headed dog was guarding? What did it matter if Snape stole it, really?

  "Are you two all right?" said Ron. "You look odd."

  What Raven feared most was that her and Harry might not be able to find the mirror room again. With Ron and Apollo (who agreed to come along) covered in the cloak, too, they had to walk much more slowly the next night. They tried retracing Harry and Ravens route from the library, wandering around the dark passageways for nearly an hour.

  "I'm freezing," said Ron. "Let's forget it and go back."

  "No!" Raven hissed. "I know it's here somewhere."

  They passed the ghost of a tall witch gliding in the opposite direction, but saw no one else. Just as Ron started moaning that his feet were dead with cold, Raven and Harry spotted the suit of armor.

  "It's here—just here—yes!"

  They pushed the door open. Harry and Raven dropped the cloak from around their shoulders and ran to the mirror.

  There they were. His mother and father beamed at the sight of him.

  "See?" Harry whispered.

  "I can't see anything."

  "Look! Look at them all . . . there are loads of them. . . ."

  "I can only see you."

  "Look in it properly, go on, stand where we are."

  Harry and Raven stepped aside, but with Ron in front of the mirror, they couldn't see his family anymore, just Ron in his paisley pajamas.

  Ron, though, was staring transfixed at his image.

  "Look at me!" he said.

  "Can you see all your family standing around you?"

  "No—I'm alone—but I'm different—I look older—and I'm head boy!"

  "What?" Apollo asked.

  "I am—I'm wearing the badge like Bill used to—and I'm holding the house cup and the Quidditch cup—I'm Quidditch captain, too."

  Ron tore his eyes away from this splendid sight to look excitedly at Harry, Raven, and Apollo.

  "Do you think this mirror shows the future?"

  "How can it? All my family are dead—let us have another look—"

  "You had it to yourself all last night, give me a bit more time."

  "You're only holding the Quidditch cup, what's interesting about that? We want to see our parents."

  "Don't push me—"

"Guys-" Apollo started.

  A sudden noise outside in the corridor put an end to their discussion. They hadn't realized how loudly they had been talking.

"Great. I wish I stayed in the Hufflepuff Dormitory. You two probably woke up the entire castle." Raven heard Apollo say.

  "Quick!" hissed Harry.

  Ron threw the cloak back over them as the luminous eyes of Mrs. Norris came round the door. Ron, Raven, Apollo, and Harry stood quite still.

  "This isn't safe—she might have gone for Filch, I bet she heard us. Come on."

  And Ron and Apollo pulled Harry and Raven out of the room.

  The snow still hadn't melted the next morning.

  "Want to play chess with us, Harry?" said Ron.

  "No."

  "Why don't we go down and visit Hagrid?"

  "No . . . you two can go . . ." Raven says.

  "I know what you're thinking about, Harry, Raven, that mirror. Don't go back tonight."

  "Why not?" asked Raven defensively.

  "I dunno, I've just got a bad feeling about it." says Apollo.

Anyways, you've had too many close shaves already. Filch, Snape, and Mrs. Norris are wandering around. So what if they can't see you? What if they walk into you? What if you knock something over?" says Ron.

  "You both sound like Hermione." Harry says.

  "We're serious, guys, don't go."

  But Raven only had one thought in her head, which was to get back in front of the mirror, and Ron nor Apollo were going to stop her and Harry.

  That third night they found the way more quickly than before. They were walking so fast they knew they were making more noise than was wise, but thankfully didn't meet anyone.

  And there were their mother and father smiling at them again, and one of his grandfathers nodding happily. Harry and Raven sank down to sit on the floor in front of the mirror. Raven lay her head on Harry's shoulder and scooted closer to him. There was nothing to stop either of them from staying here all night with his family. Nothing at all.

  Except—

  "So—back again, you two?"

  Raven felt as though her insides had turned to ice. She looked behind her. Sitting on one of the desks by the wall was none other than Albus Dumbledore.

Raven and Harry must have walked straight past him, so desperate to get to the mirror they hadn't noticed him.

  "—We didn't see you, sir." says Harry.

  "Strange how nearsighted being invisible can make you," said Dumbledore, and Raven and Harry were relieved to see that he was smiling.

  "So," said Dumbledore, slipping off the desk to sit on the floor with Harry, "you, like hundreds before you, have discovered the delights of the Mirror of Erised."

  "I didn't know it was called that, sir."

  "But I expect you've realized by now what it does?"

  "It—well—it shows us our family—"

  "And it showed your friend Ron himself as head boy. And Apollo his family."

  "How did you know—?"

  "I don't need a cloak to become invisible," said Dumbledore gently. "Now, can you think what the Mirror of Erised shows us all?"

  Harry and Raven shook their heads.

  "Let me explain. The happiest man on earth would be able to use the Mirror of Erised like a normal mirror, that is, he would look into it and see himself exactly as he is. Does that help?"

  Raven thought. Then she said slowly, "It shows us what we want . . . whatever we want . . ."

  "Yes and no," said Dumbledore quietly. "It shows us nothing more or less than the deepest, most desperate desire of our hearts. You, who have never known your family, see them standing around you. Ronald Weasley, who has always been overshadowed by his brothers, sees himself standing alone, the best of all of them. And Apollo Lupin sees his own family. However, this mirror will give us neither knowledge or truth. Men have wasted away before it, entranced by what they have seen, or been driven mad, not knowing if what it shows is real or even possible.

  "The Mirror will be moved to a new home tomorrow, Harry, Raven, and I ask you not to go looking for it again. If you ever do run across it, you will now be prepared. It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live, remember that. Now, why don't you put that admirable cloak back on and get off to bed?"

  Harry and Raven stood up.

  "Sir—Professor Dumbledore? Can I ask you something?"

  "Obviously, you've just done so," Dumbledore smiled. "You may ask me one more thing, however."

  "What do you see when you look in the mirror?"

  "I? I see myself holding a pair of thick, woolen socks."

  Harry and Raven stared.

  "One can never have enough socks," said Dumbledore. "Another Christmas has come and gone and I didn't get a single pair. People will insist on giving me books."

  It was only when he was back in bed that it struck Raven that Dumbledore might not have been quite truthful. But then, she thought, it had been quite a personal question.