Chapter 21: 1-11: Reflection

Disclaimer: Being neither British nor Japanese, it should therefore come as no surprise that I own neither Harry Potter nor Naruto, nor anything from their respective franchises.

A discreet inquiry to Pandora and Xeno led Iruka to the identity of Nicholas Flamel, famed alchemist. He was known for his work on discovering the twelve uses of dragon's blood (a project in which Headmaster Dumbledore shared the credit), but more tellingly for being the oldest wizard alive thanks to his creation of a Philosopher's Stone, a previously-mythical alchemical product that could permanently transmute base metals into gold and produce an elixir that could vastly extend the drinker's life. Such an artifact could plausibly fit the description of the mysterious package Harry saw Hagrid retrieving from Gringotts, and could easily be classed as one of the most valuable items in the world. Near-unlimited wealth and lifespan would tempt almost anybody, and plenty of people would be willing to go to extreme lengths to get their hands on something like the Stone.

With such a tantalizing prize, there was no chance of Quirrell giving up on his attempts to get hold of it. It was more likely that those attempts would get increasingly brazen as Quirrell became more desperate; that desperation would also increase the threat he posed to the children. Iruka began making plans for what to do in the event that the Defense Professor moved openly and took one or more students hostage to demand the Stone.

There were still too many variables in play to reasonably predict more than the broadest strokes of the man's actions. The biggest remaining unknown was the 'why': Why exactly did Quirinus Quirrell want the Stone? If it was just for wealth, he'd be much less likely to act openly or rashly, but if he or someone he cared for was dying and needed the Elixir of Life, he'd probably get a lot more desperate as the very literal deadline got closer.

Back home, the chuunin would have gone to his superiors to talk about anticipating Quirrell's possible courses of action and preparing contingency plans to deal with them. Here, the only person he knew about that he could ask was Professor Dumbledore, and he didn't think that discussion would go well: Iruka didn't have any information that the Headmaster didn't already have; all he did have were questions, unsolicited advice, and more information than he was probably supposed to know. It would hardly be surprising if Dumbledore was still too suspicious of him to answer his questions - Iruka certainly would be if their positions were reversed - and the Headmaster had a spotty record at best when it came to listening to suggestions. Overall, approaching Professor Dumbledore over this matter now was likely pointless, and probably wouldn't exactly build trust between the two men. That just left continuing on his previous heading: Watch, wait, plan, and prepare.

In the meantime, he'd inform his students about who Flamel was, and what the package likely was, but caution them again about the need to keep things secret, and not speak about anything to do with Quirrell or the Stone outside their training room.

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Midway through December winter arrived with gusto, coating the castle and grounds with a thick blanket of snow. Even dressed in his warmest clothes, Iruka was glad that his fire affinity made it easier for him to keep his extremities warm. Given the mild climate in Hi no Kuni, the winters in Britain were quite a change for the chuunin, and he made sure to take advantage of the snow for both learning and fun: A variant of standard wall-walking allowed him to walk across the top of the snow leaving little to nothing for prints; he made sure to only practice this in the glen in Devon, for secrecy's sake. At play with Luna, Iruka built a snowman and went sledding down the hill on which the Rook sat; back at Hogwarts, he joined the Weasley twins and a number of other students in building snow forts and engaging in snowball fights (decades of training in projectile throwing meant that Iruka quickly became a coveted teammate). The chuunin teacher couldn't help but think of the wonderful training exercises he could make from snowball fights.

The local holiday was once again spent at the Rook, where Iruka found that the Lovegoods and a number of his colleagues at Hogwarts had quietly conspired to pool their money and gift him with a Nimbus Two-Thousand, one of the top British-made racing brooms. Clearly his enjoyment of flying had become common knowledge. That wasn't really surprising though, given the fact that he tended to join in with some of the students' recreational free-flying sessions and the occasional pickup Quidditch game (he tended to restrain his physical abilities during these, though the school broomsticks he flew were often a major handicap on their own).

After lunch on December 27th, Iruka was surprised by a knock at the door of his quarters. Harry was there, but rather than the expected glow of a child on holiday at a magical school, his expression was distracted, pensive, almost a bit haunted. Figuring that something significant had disturbed his student, Iruka invited the boy in.

"So," he began once the two of them were settled with cups of tea, "what brings you to my door?" Harry seemed hesitant, conflicted. "Something happened while I was away, didn't it?"

That seemed to break through Harry's reluctance. "It started at Christmas: Someone gave me an Invisibility Cloak that used to belong to my dad. I tried it out that night, snuck out after curfew; I just wanted to explore a bit. In an old abandoned classroom, there was this really fancy mirror with strange words on the frame, and when I looked at my reflection in it, I was surrounded by family. My parents were standing behind me, smiling at me. They were proud! It was... it was just so amazing to see them like that, almost like they were alive again. Ron was kinda jealous about the cloak, though - they're really rare and expensive, he said. I've told you how things have been a bit tense between us, so I figured maybe sharing it with him, going out together, showing him my parents, maybe it could help patch things up some? So last night, we both snuck out under the cloak, and I showed him the mirror, but he didn't see my parents, or his family - he saw himself as Head Boy and Quidditch Captain, with the House Cup and the Quidditch cup too. He didn't want to stop looking at it, but I wanted to see my family some more, and we sort of argued a bit and almost got caught by Mrs. Norris and Filch. Now today he's telling me to not go back, that he's got a bad feeling about it, but it's my family." His voice was plaintive, almost a desperate whine. "I'd never even seen their faces before, and this might be the only chance I ever get to see them. I thought, maybe if you look at the mirror, you'll understand what I'm talking about, or maybe Ron's right and you'll be able to tell me that. I'm just so confused..."

Once his student had trailed off, Iruka took a few moments to fully process his tale before speaking. "Well, let's start at the beginning. Can you tell me what the first mistake you made was?" Harry's only response was a look of puzzlement. "You said 'someone' sent you this cloak. I take it that there was no indication of who sent it?" Harry shook his head. "So you opened a gift package from an unknown sender, and then proceeded to use the gift inside, without having a trusted adult check it over. You do recall your first Quidditch game, yes? Professor Quirrell has already made one attempt on your life. You had no way of knowing if that cloak was truly an heirloom from your father, or whether it was a piece of cloth that had been cursed to hurt you or kill you. Even if you're not showing any obvious ill effects from it, we will still be taking it to the Headmaster to have him check it over for safety." At this point, the boy in front of him was looking more than a bit sheepish at how careless he had been, likely caught up in the combined enthusiasm of what were likely his first real Christmas presents and an apparent connection to his parents. Iruka adopted a reassuring smile before continuing. "In any case, I think we should also have a look at this mirror. Care to show me the way?"

A few minutes later the two stepped into what indeed appeared to be an abandoned classroom. The typical classroom furniture was largely pushed to and/or piled along the walls of the room, but Iruka's eyes were immediately drawn to the mirror propped against one wall: It was tall, at least two and a half meters, with the top of its ornate gilded frame nearly brushing the ceiling while a pair of clawed feet rested on the floor. Across the arched top of the otherwise-rectangular frame were carved the words "Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi." Even if the letters were the same as used in local writing, the words themselves didn't match any language Iruka had seen.

Harry moved to step towards the mirror, but Iruka placed a hand on his shoulder, stopping him and drawing a look of question. Shaking his head, the chuunin drew his wand, casting what few scanning and detection charms he knew towards the mirror, checking for magical traps. He wasn't sure whether to be surprised or unsurprised that the results were all negative. Releasing Harry, he accompanied the boy to stand in front of the mirror. As they stood there together, all Iruka could see in the mirror was an accurate reflection, including his student's frown of disappointment. "If different people see different things in the mirror, maybe it only activates when there's only one person in front of it?" he suggested. His frown deepening, Harry nodded and reluctantly took a couple of steps to the side.

The moment Harry was out of the reflection Iruka could see, the view changed. He could still see himself, but dressed in his uniform rather than robes. The greater change, however, was the background: It was still a classroom, true, but not an abandoned classroom at Hogwarts - it was his classroom, where he'd taught young genin-in-training for so many years, and it was filled not only with the crop of students he'd been working with at his accident (including a rather sheepish-looking Boruto), but also a sprinkling of British youths like Harry and Luna, all dressed like their Konoha-born peers.

After a few moments of basking in the warm contentment of the view, Iruka forced himself back to reality, throwing in a genjutsu-release for good measure. Based on what Harry had described himself and Ronald Weasley as seeing, it would seem that this mirror somehow reflected not reality, but the viewer's wishes and desires.

Reflected desire! Looking back at the inscription across the frame, Iruka read the letters backwards, stumbling a bit at the strange word breaks. "'I show not your face but your heart's desire.', it says." Harry blinked in confusion. "Look at the inscription - it's backwards, almost like it's 'mirrored' - this mirror shows us exactly what we most want. For me, that's being back home with my friends and students, all my students;" he added with a pointed look at Harry, causing the boy's suddenly downbeat expression to brighten, "for Ronald, that's matching or surpassing his brothers' achievements; for you, it's being together with the family you've been denied. I suppose it could be useful for motivation or self-discovery, but it's also seriously dangerous. Consider someone like yourself, whose wish is unattainable but powerfully compelling. You could come back here again and again, gazing at the image of happiness, and gradually lose any care for what's going on in the real world, missing classes and Quidditch practice, neglecting your friends and grades, missing sleep and meals, just wasting away. On top of that, even never coming back to it, some people could be seriously hurt emotionally from being teased with a vision of unreachable happiness. Come on, let's go talk to the Headmaster; we'll ask him about your cloak and warn him about this mirror." The two left the room, with Harry still shooting longing glances back at the mirror until Iruka closed and locked the door behind them.

After a stop at the Gryffindor dorms to pick up Harry's cloak and the note that came with it (the wrappings having already been disposed of by the house-elves), teacher and student made their way to the Headmaster's office.

As usual, the call of "Come in!" came just before Iruka's knock. Headmaster Dumbledore was seated behind his desk, apparently in the midst of some paperwork, and smiled warmly at Iruka before his gaze flashed to the first-year beside him that was looking around the office in wide-eyed fascination. "Professor Umino, Mister Potter, what brings you here today? Not getting up to too much mischief, I hope?" His eyes twinkled with merriment.

"A couple of issues, actually, Headmaster," Iruka replied. "First, Mister Potter received an anonymous gift at Christmas. Normally this wouldn't be much concern, but given the incident during that Quidditch match, I'd feel better if you could confirm that the gift is benign."

The Headmaster looked startled. "Would the gift in question happen to be a cloak?" At his guests' nods, he continued. "The Potter Family has long owned that particular invisibility cloak, and James loaned it to me shortly after they went into hiding so that I might study how its magic has so outlasted the typical lifespan of such items. In hindsight, I can see how under the circumstances I should have used a somewhat less suspicious method of returning it. Now, you mentioned two issues?"

"Yes, sir. Mister Potter found a dangerous magical artifact unsecured in a student-accessible room, and brought it to my attention. It is a large mirror that shows an image of something the viewer strongly desires-"

A raised hand from Professor Dumbledore halted Iruka. "Again, it would appear that I am the answer to your conundrum. I had placed the mirror in its current location as a temporary measure while preparing a new home for it. Those preparations should be complete some time tomorrow morning, at which point I will be moving the mirror to a more secure location. I implore you both to not seek the mirror out, no matter what you may have seen in it. It gives neither knowledge nor truth, and men have wasted away before it or been driven mad longing for what they have seen. You were correct in surmising that the Mirror of Erised is dangerous, and I must confess that in hindsight I realize that I should have secured the room containing it through more than mere obscurity; at the time, I had assumed that with the castle mostly empty, the chances of anyone stumbling upon it in the few days it would be there would be minimal. A lesson for me, perhaps, and a lesson for the two of you also, as you would now both be better-prepared should you encounter the Mirror or its like in the future. It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live. In any case, Professor, I presume that you have already secured the room in which the Mirror is currently kept?" Iruka nodded. "Thank you, and I applaud your caution and prudence in both of the matters that brought you here. Now, I hate to be a poor host, but this school generates a bafflingly prodigious amount of parchmentwork, much of which requires my review, and I am afraid I must return to it. Please, enjoy the rest of your holidays."

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Back in Iruka's office, teacher and student sat down with tea, something that had become comfortable and familiar to both. For well over a minute, the thoughtful silence was broken only by the faint sounds of sipping. Finally, the teacher spoke.

"We should probably get the simpler matter out of the way first," Iruka began. "I can't really blame you for your lack of caution with the cloak; orphans like us, we grab any connection we can find to our families, and we never willingly let go. Throw in the excitement of the holiday, the cloak being mixed in with other gifts," he chose not to bring up Harry's young age, "and the fact that you don't really have much training or experience in caution and suspicion - I'd be more surprised if you hadn't opened it immediately. Maybe we can go over security protocols for unknown packages at the next group lesson. Until then, if you get any more anonymous packages, or packages where you can't be confident that they were actually sent by who they claim to be from, just remember that there's a dangerous person on the loose that has attacked you once already."

"Now, to the... erumpent in the room." The chuunin teacher had to remember to use the local expression rather than a biju. "You understand that you can't, and more importantly shouldn't, go looking for that mirror again?"

"I get that, I guess. It's just... it's the only place I've ever seen my family. Other than knowing my dad looked like me and my mum had eyes like mine, I didn't even know what they really looked like. People barely even talk about either of them; they say my dad was on the Quidditch team and my mum was brilliant, but nobody talks about what they were like as people." Once Harry began his words came as a flood.

"My parents have been dead for three decades," Iruka began solemnly, "and I still miss my father's proud smiles, my mother's warm hugs, their words of love and encouragement... I can imagine at least some of what you must have felt, looking into that mirror, but what you have to remember is that it wasn't real. It was an illusion, a lie, designed to show you whatever you most wanted. Even a photograph would be more real - at least then it'd be a recording of a moment that actually happened. Remember that whenever you find yourself tempted to look for the mirror again."

"For now," the chuunin continued, "I'll speak and write to some people, and see if we can't get you some real pictures of your family. While I'm at it, I'll ask those that knew your parents if they can either talk or write to you about them, maybe share some old stories. You deserve more than a few vague comments, and better than the poisonous lies some have told you."

With the pressing business out of the way, discussion moved on to happier topics, like what the two wizards had done over their holidays. Iruka also ended up sharing stories of his own parents for the first time in over ten years.

A/N: Merry Christmas, to those that celebrate it, and/or Happy Hanukkah, Kwanzaa, Yule, Solstice, Saturnalia, and the various other celebrations around this time. This is another breather-ish chapter, but things will start picking up soon enough - Quirrelmort's attempt on the stone is only three chapters away at this point.

A guest reviewer asked about Ron, and where I plan to take him as this fic develops. Unfortunately for Ron fans, I simply couldn't find a plausible way for him to play a large role in this story, at least as far as I've written. Believe me, I tried, but can you honestly say that he'd want to take extra lessons outside of class? Even in Book 2, where I was originally intending to bring him in, events just didn't make sense if I tried to shoehorn him into the climax (which was actually the first part of this entire story that I wrote, funnily enough, but the changed circumstances caused me to edit certain parts of it).

Fic Recommendation: "In The Box" by Dyce - a hilariously fun Firefly oneshot, very character-focused.

Posted 24 December 2017