Chapter Eighteen
After the incredible Christmas feast Harry and Hermione strolled back to Gryffindor Tower merrily. Harry had almost forgotten about the Invisibility Cloak, the amazing food had nearly driven it from his mind. But as he slouched onto the couch the memory of his fathers cloak returned and threatened to dampen his spirits once more. Hermione had taken a seat in a squashy armchair beside the cracking fire. She was curled up with the book Harry had bought her. He smiled as he watched her, if it wasn't for her he would probably be up in his dormitory on his own. "What," she asked shrewdly as she caught him staring. Harry snapped out of his reverie. "Oh…nothing. Just thinking," said Harry, cursing himself for not averting his eyes. Hermione returned to her book, her brow knitted in concentration.
They played a vicious game of wizard's chess, which ended with Harry's pieces nearly throwing themselves in the fire as his mind wasn't completely on the game. They then made their way outdoors into the freezing grounds. The students that had remained over the holidays had already started a snowball fight.
After hours of throwing snowballs, Harry was tired out. The sky remained cloudless but night had taken days place. The lights of the castle were lit so that thousands of windows shone out through the darkness. Harry made his way back to the castle, dragging his feet through the snow. His cloak was soaking from all the melted snowballs and his runners were also drenched. He was visibly shaking as they made their way through the empty corridors. Hermione looked at him worriedly. "Are you alright?" she asked. She had stopped walking and turned to look at him. "Harry! You have a cold. Why did you go outside if you were sick?" she asked hysterically. "I'm fine Hermione, I swear. I had it earlier on. Just wasn't this annoying," he replied sneezing.
Hermione sighed exasperatedly. She rolled her eyes at him as she watched him walk off sniffing. Harry stood in front of the warming fire, trying to get some heat back into his body. Hermione took her seat beside the fire and continued reading the new book Harry had bought her. After a while Harry sat down. He was warmer now but he was still sniffing and snuffling. His nose was itchy and his eyes were also sore. He kept putting his hands under his glasses and rubbing them, which really wasn't helping.
After two hours of listening to Harry blowing his nose, sneezing or sniffing, Hermione had had enough. She stood up and grabbed his arm. "Come on, Hospital Wing," she said dragging him from his seat.
"Hermione," he said "there's no need. I'll just sleep it off…."
He was still trying to convince her there wasn't any point going to Madam Pomfrey when they were standing outside the double doors which led to the Hospital Wing. "Please Hermione, its nearly nine o'clock." Hermione knocked impatiently on the double doors which she regretted doing when she saw a very harassed looking Madam Pomfrey open the doors with a wave of her wand.
"Sorry Madam Pomfrey. Harry here has a terrible cold and I…he was wondering if you had anything for him to take," said Hermione very politely. Harry just stood there silently and faked a smile when Madam Pomfrey gave him a suspicious look. He now had a really penetrating headache that felt as if there were small people inside his head using pick axes to get out.
The stern nurse went over to Harry and examined him. She pushed him back so that he was sitting on one of the white hospital beds. "Very well. We have a new cure for this kind of cold," she announced delightedly. She had obviously been waiting a while to try this new cure. She acquired a long bottle of a strange glutinous black liquid. It seemed to be moving around the bottle of its own accord. Harry leaned cautiously away from the bottle. Hermione gave him a sympathetic look and moved so that she wasn't near the bottle. As Madam Pomfrey poured the black liquid onto a spoon Harry saw that a grey fur grew slightly from the liquid.
Harry gave the spoon a disgusted look but couldn't do anything as Madam Pomfrey held the spoon right beside his mouth. He opened his mouth slowly and could taste the black liquid now. It tasted like furry licorice that was a century out of date mixed in with thick paraffin oil. Hermione cringed at the pained look that now occupied Harry's facial features. He seemed to hold it in his mouth for a few moments before he took one long swallow. He stopped all movement for a moment after swallowing the `medicine' then keeled over, his head hitting the pillow, and into a deep sleep.
Hermione rushed to his side under the illusion that something had gone wrong. "What's wrong with him?" she cried shocked. "Nothing," said Madam Pomfrey "the potion induces sleep. He should be here for about an hour, when he wakes he might be a bit drowsy but he won't have a cold," she explained. Hermione looked at Harry. He looked to be in more of a coma than anything else. Madam Pomfrey positioned Harry so that he was lying down on the bed.
"You better head back to Gryffindor Tower, dear. He'll be fine. I'll send him back after he wakes up," said Madam Pomfrey as she realized how worried Hermione was. Hermione was about to argue but then seemed to reconsider and thanked Madam Pomfrey before she left.
An hour later and Harry awoke in the dimly lit Hospital Wing. He rubbed his eyes sleepily glad that his cold had been cured. Suddenly he felt a chill and sat up straight in the bed. He tried to look at the doors of the Hospital Wing but found that he couldn't see very well even though he had his glasses on. He felt dazed and his head swam a bit. "Pssst…"|he heard someone hiss. Harry removed his wand from his pocket immediately and stood up. "Harry! It's me," said Hermione exasperatedly and removed the Invisibility Cloak showing herself. Harry really did think he was imagining things now. He looked at Hermione strangely then started to keel over. Hermione caught him just before he hit the cold floor. "Madam Pomfrey did say you would feel a bit out of it," Hermione said putting Harry's arm over her shoulder. "Maybe you should stay here for the night," she suggested. "No, I want to go back to bed, my bed," said Harry, sounding very dreamy and not at all like himself.
Hermione conceded and threw the Cloak over them. "We might get caught by Filch or Mrs. Norris. I think Madam Pomfrey left to go to London. She probably expected you to stay here. Are you sure you want to go back."
"Yep," whispered Harry. They left the confines of the Wing and made their way out to the moonlit corridors. The windows had snow packed up on their sills. Frost had made its way into the castle through the windows that had no panes of glass, so that as they walked they could see their breath before them. Harry was leaning heavily on Hermione and he looked as if he was trying to get rid of a headache. He kept blinking his eyes and shaking his head. As they rounded another corner they came face to face with Filch. They stopped dead in their tracks. His bulbous eyes roamed the corridor and passed them many times. He must have heard them. Hermione backtracked and led Harry through a series of doors and corridors.
"Where are we?" asked Harry confusedly. "I don't know. But I think Filch might come this way if we stay here too long," whispered Hermione. Harry ducked out from under Hermione's arm and the Cloak and made his way over to a table. Hermione, terrified of his reckless actions, tried to grab him but he resisted. He lit a small kerosene lamp which shone out in the darkness. "We're in a classroom,' said Harry. He moved to examine the room but Hermione grabbed his arm. "You're obviously lost a bit of your mind so I'm going to bring you back to Gryffindor Tower," she hissed.
"I don't want to go back," said Harry sounding very much like a child. Hermione started pulling him back under the Cloak but he struggled and broke free of her grasp. Hermione was reminded forcibly of small child who refused to go to bed. Harry made his way into the middle of the room and Hermione was left standing beside the doorway. She could now see more and more of the room as Harry's light roamed the surroundings. It was then that she saw a huge mirror standing directly at the centre of the room. It looked magnificently across the room. It stood as high as the ceiling and had an ornate gold frame standing on two clawed feet. Harry slowly walked in front of it. Hermione could just make out his face from the light of the lamp. A look of pure shock made its way onto his face. He turned pale and then dropped the lamp. It fell to the ground with a great smash and Hermione caught a glimpse of the glass falling to the floor.
She felt Harry rush past her and out into the corridor again. She followed him as quick as she could but he didn't have a Cloak and could run faster. She threw the Cloak off her and shoved it under her arm and ran as fast as she could, praying that they wouldn't be caught. They made it back to Gryffindor tower without meeting anybody on the way. She found Harry sitting on the couch in front of the glowing remains of the fire. He looked to be back from his former state but still seemed shocked and pale. "What did you see Harry?' Hermione asked, deciding not to be angry at him for running visibly through the school. Harry didn't look at her, his eyes staring at the fire, thoughtfully. Hermione knew she wouldn't get anything else from him. She folded the Invisibility Cloak and rested it on a table. She was disappointed and worried he wouldn't tell her what had happened but nonetheless relieved to be back at Gryffindor Tower. She also felt extremely tired. "I'm going to bed," she said "thanks Harry, for Christmas,' she finished, hoping to get some sort of reaction out of him. He turned slowly and looked at her. He had a smile on his face but it didn't quite reach his eyes. "No, I should be thanking you," he said simply. She climbed the stairs up to her dormitory wondering what Harry had seen in that mirror.
Harry quickly made his way up to the boy's dormitories and searched for his black hoody. He found it at the bottom of his trunk, it was creased but he didn't mind that at the moment as he mainly wanted it for stealth, so that he could blend in with the darkness. It was better than his shirt as it was also quite cold in the castle.
It couldn't have been them. They were dead. How did he see them in the mirror if they were dead? He didn't even know what they looked like. She had your eyes and the man looked like you, he even had the hair a voice in his head said. No go away! fought the other side of his mind.
Harry barreled down the staircase and made his way to the portrait hole. He paused and spun around, his eyes landing on the Invisibility Cloak. He picked it up and let the smooth texture fall through his fingers. It was almost weightless but as Harry held it he felt as if it was growing heavier in his mind, as if it was calling him to put it on. He threw it over himself and made his way out of the portrait hole. "Who goes there?" said the Fat Lady mystified. Harry ignored her and made for the end of the corridor. He had remembered seeing the Statue of Dune near the room where the mirror was held. Mind you he hadn't remembered much more of his previous actions before he had seen the faces in the mirror. He hoped he hadn't made a fool of himself, especially in front of Hermione.
He walked silently through the castle listening attentively for any noise. He thought he heard footsteps far off and thought that his `super senses' were at play again. He could almost see Filch sneaking around looking through every room for an intruder in the castle. Harry spotted the Statue of Dune up ahead and looked to the empty doorways on his left. He found the right one and paused on the threshold of the room, again battling with himself for reasons to go through or to return to Gryffindor Tower. But in the end he realized that he had to know if it was them or not. He walked slowly into the room and found another lamp on the table closest to the door. He picked it up and, using wandless magic lit the lamp so that a flame was all that could be seen in the darkness.
He approached the mirror cautiously, his breathing was shallow but when he saw the faces of his parents staring at him from within the mirror his breath hitched so that for a few moments, no sound was heard in the room. The hand that held the kerosene lamp shook as Harry tried to register what was in front of him.
Half of him wanted to run; not wanting to believe what it saw. The other half felt as if some sort of invisible pressure had been removed. He had now seen the faces of his parents and he could in some way, move on. He wondered whether seeing them through a mirror was enough and knew deep down that it would never be. Was this mirror taunting him, showing him what he could never have?
The Potters stood hand in hand, smiling down at their only son. They smiled but Harry couldn't help but feel the sadness that issued from the smile. Did they yearn to see him?
He wanted to reach out and touch them, be he would not nor could he bear to reach out and find only solid glass and pain. Yet he stood there for many hours, still and silent. He felt at one time great angst and pain and yet also relief at seeing their faces. He was beginning to think the mirror actually gave what the seeker wished to see. There was no denying that he had hoped to see his parents. So he couldn't blame the mirror for giving him this, he could only blame himself.
"Well Harry, I see you, like many before you have discovered the delights of the Mirror of Erised," came a voice from the doorway behind Harry. Harry didn't move. He had felt Dumbledore approaching but he hadn't reacted, as at the moment he wasn't really thinking about anything except the mirror.
"Delights? Would you call it that, Professor?' Harry said quietly.
Dumbledore moved deeper into the room and stood just behind Harry. "I trust you know the power of the Mirror. Its effect over all of us," Dumbledore asked.
"Desire," Harry replied simply yet his voice shook. He hadn't taken his eyes from the mirror, part of him afraid to let go again.
Harry was beginning to feel angry at the effect the mirror had on him. The image seemed to freeze him so that he was powerless to counter its consuming effects.
"It shows what I could have had," continued Harry, his teeth clenched. The hand holding the lamp was again shaking, the knuckles white. He felt as if there was some inner battle raging within him. Dumbledore registered how tense Harry's silent form had become.
"It shows what you should have had," said Dumbledore gently. "Your parents' death was tragic and will never be forgotten by those who loved them. They were brave, courageous and honorable. Lord Voldemort saw this. I saw this. Many people did. Their death was an immense loss to the wizarding community but also especially for you. You have never met them and this is the first time you have laid eyes on them. But your parents effected so many peoples lives that they live on in the hearts of their friends and family, particularly you. You desired to see their faces but it has become apparent that you really wish to know your parents."
Harry knew that Professor Dumbledore had spoken the truth and it brought little comfort. But he seemed to grasp his right conscious and took a slow step back from the mirror. He closed his eyes and kept them shut, burning the image of his parents' faces into his memory so he would never forget. His shoulders slumped and he realized he was breathing deeply. Dumbledore recognized how hard the struggle to turn away from the mirror must have been on Harry. He took him by the arm and moved him so that he could lean on a desk for support. Harry felt very weak and was thankful he had something to hold onto.
"The Mirror of Erised is a powerful tool, Harry. It gives us neither knowledge nor truth. Many great wizards have wasted away in front of it. Entranced by what they have witnessed in its depths," said Dumbledore, his voice a mere whisper. Harry nodded his head in understanding.
"It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live," suggested Harry trying to sum up Dumbledore's words. Dumbledore smiled. "Precisely.'
They stood in silence for a few moments. The shadows shifted as the moon became covered by the restless clouds. It was now approaching midnight. "Well Harry. I think it time you return to your bed. Also I hear you were treated by Madam Pomfrey and I assure you that more rest is needed if you are to be right by tomorrow." Harry noticed the brightness had seemed to return to Dumbledore's eyes. He noted that Dumbledore was holding something out and recognized it as his Invisibility Cloak. "Very useful, wouldn't you agree," he said chuckling. Harry smiled as he took it into his hands. |"Did you….?" began Harry.
"Goodnight Harry,' Dumbledore said a bit more forcefully but not threateningly.
As Harry turned to leave he saw Dumbledore return to the mirror. He looked into it and sighed. Then he conjured a white sheet and draped it over the face of the mirror. Harry made it back to his dormitory without interruption and only when he had climbed into his bed did he notice how tired he was.
He found it difficult to sleep and woke on more than one occasion dripping with cold sweat. His breath in gasps. When he awoke the next day he had heavy bags under his eyes. Harry and Hermione had planned to continue their search for Nicholas Flamel. Hermione didn't bring up the previous night in the little conversation they had while looking through the thick volumes, for which Harry was grateful.
They searched for what seemed like hours but no mention of Flamel could they find. Hermione was convinced that she had come across him before and so she left to search through her books in her dormitory. This left Harry on his own in the library. He finished searching the books remaining on his table and then went to search in the rows of bookshelves that had appealing titles. After searching the Defense Against the Dark |Arts row fruitlessly again he made his way to the row next to it. He was now tired of looking and if he was honest with himself he wasn't really looking for anything as he browsed in the Muggle Studies section. His eyes roamed the shelves and he was caught by a large blue book with gold lettering that read Judo. He immediately thought of his futile attempt to teach himself about two years ago.
He almost laughed at the image of nine year old Harry trying to practice Judo himself without a proper tutor. But he had to admit, it was useful. And now he had magic to help his also. He bent down onto his hunkers and removed the book cautiously from the shelf and opened it slowly. The inside was similar to the books he had read in Mr. Kravitovs' library. But after looking at it for a minute he realized that the pictures were actually moving. Now this ought to help thought Harry.
Once again Harry had the peculiar feeling that someone was watching or approaching him. He stood up quickly and turned to look at the end of the row of books. Madam Pince was eyeing him suspiciously. When Harry stayed strong under her piercing gaze she moved on. Harry quickly removed his wand from his pocket and whispered "Duplico" while pointing it at the book. A transparent replica of the book appeared beside the original. Harry watched as it became more solid. The spell only worked on books as far as he knew. He had found it in More Magical Methods.
He then put the original back on the shelf and put the duplicate furtively back into his school bag. He had only sat back down for a moment when Hermione came rushing in, holding an enormous book, whispering excitedly "I found him. I found him."
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