MIRROR OF ERISED

The castle settled into the quiet of night, Harry and Ron carefully made their way out of the Gryffindor common room. They huddled close together under the Invisibility Cloak, their footsteps muffled by the thick carpet of the corridors.

The castle took on an eerie quality in the darkness, with moonlight streaming through the high windows and casting long shadows across the stone floors. Suits of armor creaked slightly as they passed, and the portraits on the walls snored softly in their frames.

As they descended the Grand Staircase, Harry suddenly grabbed Ron's arm, bringing them to a halt. Just a few steps below, Percy Weasley was making his way up, his prefect badge gleaming in the dim light.

Ron held his breath, pressing closer to Harry to ensure the cloak covered them completely. Percy paused for a moment, cocking his head as if he'd heard something. Harry and Ron stood perfectly still, hardly daring to breathe.

After what felt like an eternity, Percy shrugged and continued his ascent, muttering something about "responsibility" and "constant vigilance" under his breath.

Once Percy had disappeared around the corner, Ron let out a quiet sigh of relief.

"That was close," he whispered. "Good thing we listened to Marteen about the prefects."

Harry nodded, "Come on," he murmured. "Let's get to the dungeons before we run into anyone else."

They continued their descent, moving even more cautiously now. The encounter with Percy had made the danger of their midnight adventure all too real, and the Slytherin dungeons seemed farther away than ever. But with the promise of answers about Nicholas Flamel and the excitement of using their new magical objects, they pressed on, invisible footsteps echoing softly in the empty corridors of Hogwarts.

Marteen stood in the shadows next to the entrance to the Slytherin common room, his eyes darting nervously up and down the dimly lit dungeon corridor. The Compass of Desire hung from a chain around his neck, hidden beneath his robes.

Suddenly, he heard a faint hiss coming from seemingly nowhere.

"Marteen! Over here!"

Marteen's eyes widened as he realized it was Harry and Ron's voices, but he couldn't see them. Then he remembered the Invisibility Cloak and relaxed slightly.

"I'm here," he whispered back, stepping away from the wall. "Where are you exactly?"

He felt a light touch on his arm, and suddenly Harry and Ron's heads appeared, floating in mid-air as they partially lifted the cloak.

"Ready?" Harry asked in a hushed tone.

Marteen nodded, and Harry lifted the cloak higher, allowing Marteen to slip underneath with them. It was a tight fit for the three of them, but they managed to stay covered.

"Alright," Ron whispered, "to the library then?"

They began their careful journey through the castle, moving slowly to keep their feet from showing beneath the cloak. The corridors were eerily quiet, with only the occasional snore from a portrait or the distant hoot of an owl to break the silence.

As they climbed the stairs leading out of the dungeons, Marteen whispered,

"Remember, we need to be extra careful on the main floors. There might be teachers patrolling."

Harry and Ron nodded in agreement, and they continued their tense journey towards the library. The Compass of Desire hung heavily against Marteen's chest, a constant reminder of their mission and the mysterious force that seemed to be guiding them all.

They entered the Restricted Section of the library, the darkness seemed to press in around them. They carefully removed the Invisibility Cloak, and Harry whispered,

"We need some light."

After a moment of searching, they found an old lantern on a nearby desk. Marteen pulled out his wand and, with a look of concentration, silently cast a spell. The lantern flickered to life, casting a warm glow around them.

"Blimey, Marteen! Non-verbal magic again? That's impressive!" Ron amazed.

Harry picked up the lantern and began scanning the bookshelves. The titles were hard to read, some faded with age, others in languages they didn't understand. They searched for what felt like hours, but found nothing related to Nicholas Flamel.

Frustrated, Marteen pulled out the Compass of Desire. "Let's see if this can help," he muttered. To their surprise, the compass didn't point towards any of the Restricted Section shelves. Instead, it seemed to be indicating a direction outside the section, towards the regular part of the library.

Marteen's brow furrowed. "That's odd. It's not pointing to anything here."

"You know," he continued, lowering his voice, "I'm starting to think this whole nighttime excursion wasn't really necessary. If the book we need isn't in the Restricted Section, we could have just looked during the day without breaking any rules."

"You mean we risked getting caught for nothing? Bloody hell, I knew this was a bad idea." Ron's face fell.

"You're right, Marteen. We jumped into this without thinking it through. We can come back tomorrow morning and check the regular sections. At least now we know it's probably not in the Restricted Section." Harry said.

They stood in silence for a moment, the excitement of their midnight adventure deflating rapidly.

"Well," Ron said finally, "at least we got to test out the Invisibility Cloak and the Compass if Desire. That's something, right?"

Harry nodded, managing a small smile. "Yeah, and we know they both work. Come on, let's head back before Filch or Mrs. Norris catches us."

As they prepared to leave, Marteen extinguished the lantern with another silent spell. They huddled back under the Invisibility Cloak, their mission unsuccessful but their bond somehow strengthened by the shared experience.

They made their way out of the library, more cautious than ever, with the promise of continuing their search in the light of day. The Compass of Desire hung silently around Marteen's neck, its true purpose still a mystery, but now a symbol of the unexpected alliance forming between the three boys.

As they made their way through the dark corridor, the soft padding of paws made them freeze. Mrs. Norris, Filch's cat, was approaching them. Although she couldn't see them under the Invisibility Cloak, her keen senses seemed to detect their presence.

The cat circled around them, her lamp-like eyes scanning the apparently empty space. Suddenly, she brushed against Ron's shoes, nearly causing him to yelp in surprise.

Marteen, thinking quickly, tried to shoo her away with a soft

"Psst!"

but immediately regretted it as the sound echoed in the quiet corridor.

Just then, they heard Filch's wheezing voice.

"What is it, my sweet? Someone out of bed?"

The three boys held their breath, pressing closer together under the cloak. Filch's lantern light swept across the corridor as he approached, but he remained oblivious to their presence.

"Come on, Mrs. Norris," Filch grumbled after a moment. "There's nothing here. Let's check the astronomy tower."

As Filch's footsteps faded away, the boys let out a collective sigh of relief.

"That was too close," Harry whispered.

Ron, still shaken from the encounter, took a step back. "Yeah, let's get out of here before-"

His words were cut short as he leaned against what he thought was a solid wall. Instead, it was a door that hadn't been properly closed. With a startled yelp, Ron tumbled backward into the room beyond.

Harry and Marteen, still under the cloak, quickly followed him in, closing the door behind them to avoid detection.

"Ron, are you alright?" Harry asked, helping his friend up.

As their eyes adjusted to the darkness of the room, they realized they were in a disused classroom. Desks and chairs were piled against the walls, and a layer of dust covered everything. But in the center of the room stood something that didn't seem to belong there at all - a magnificent mirror, as high as the ceiling, with an ornate gold frame, standing on two clawed feet.

The three boys stared at the mirror, momentarily forgetting their close call with Filch. Little did they know, they had just stumbled upon something that would change the course of their adventure entirely.

Harry's attention was drawn to the strange mirror. He noticed an inscription carved around the top:

Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi.

While Harry was intrigued by the mirror, Marteen and Ron seemed less interested. Marteen sighed, "Let's take a break for a moment," and settled into a dusty chair. Ron hopped onto an abandoned desk, swinging his legs idly.

Harry, however, stepped closer to the mirror, curiosity getting the better of him. As he gazed into its surface, he gasped. His reflection wasn't alone - he was surrounded by a group of people. Two figures stood out: a man with untidy black hair and glasses, and a woman with dark red hair and eyes... eyes just like his own.

With a jolt of recognition, Harry realized he was looking at his parents. His heart racing, he called out to his friends,

"Ron! Marteen! Come quick! I can see my parents!"

Ron jumped off the desk and hurried over.

"Let me see!"

He stepped in front of the mirror, but his expression quickly changed to confusion.

"I don't see your parents, Harry. I see... myself. But I'm older, and I'm wearing the Head Boy badge! And... blimey, I'm holding the Quidditch Cup! I'm Quidditch Captain too!"

Harry frowned, puzzled. "What? How can you not see my parents?"

Marteen, intrigued by their reactions, got up and took his turn. As he looked into the mirror, his eyes widened.

"I don't see either of your visions. I see... myself. I'm surrounded by wizards, powerful ones. They're... they're bowing to me, looking at me with respect and admiration."

The three boys exchanged bewildered glances.

"What's going on?" Ron asked. "Why are we all seeing different things?"

Harry shook his head, confused and a little disappointed. He had been so sure his friends would be able to see his parents too.

"I don't know. But whatever this mirror is, it's not showing us the same thing."

They made their way back through the dark corridors of Hogwarts, huddled together under the Invisibility Cloak, an unusual silence fell over the trio. The excitement of their midnight adventure had been replaced by a contemplative mood, particularly for Harry.

Harry's mind was a whirlwind of emotions. For the first time in his life, he had seen his parents' faces. The joy of that moment was overwhelming, but it was tinged with a deep sadness. Those figures in the mirror weren't real; they were just reflections of what he desperately wished for but could never have.

Ron, noticing Harry's unusual quietness, whispered, "You alright, mate? You've been awfully quiet since we left that room."

Harry merely nodded, not trusting himself to speak. How could he explain the complex emotions swirling inside him? The happiness of seeing his family, mixed with the crushing realization that it was all an illusion?

Marteen, walking on Harry's other side, seemed oblivious to the emotional turmoil of his companion. His mind was still filled with the image of himself surrounded by admiring wizards, and he was too caught up in his own thoughts to notice Harry's distress.

As they descended the stairs towards the dungeons, Ron tried again.

"Harry, if you want to talk about what you saw..."

But Harry shook his head slightly, still not ready to voice his feelings. Ron fell silent, respecting his friend's need for quiet reflection.

Marteen, finally noticing the tension, glanced between them with a slightly puzzled expression but didn't comment. His lack of emotional sensitivity prevented him from fully grasping the impact of what Harry had experienced.

They continued their journey in silence, each lost in their own thoughts about what the mirror had shown them. For Harry, it was a bittersweet reminder of what he had lost and what he longed for. For Ron, it was a glimpse of his deepest ambitions. And for Marteen, it was a vision of the respect and admiration he craved.

The next morning, after breakfast in the Great Hall, Ron and Marteen were engrossed in a game of wizard's chess. The magical pieces moved across the board, following their commands, with Ron consistently outmaneuvering Marteen.

"Checkmate!"

Ron declared for the third time that morning, grinning as Marteen's king threw down its crown in defeat.

Meanwhile, Harry sat alone near the fireplace, his gaze fixed on the dancing flames. His mind was still preoccupied with the images he'd seen in the mirror the night before.

Ron, noticing Harry's solitary figure, nudged Marteen.

"Come on, let's go see if Harry's alright."

They approached Harry, concern evident on Ron's face.

"Hey, mate," Ron said gently. "Fancy a game of chess? Might take your mind off things."

Harry shook his head without looking up. "No, thanks," he mumbled.

Marteen, trying to be helpful, suggested, "What about continuing our search for information on Nicholas Flamel in the library? We could start in the regular section like we planned."

Harry sighed, finally meeting their eyes. "I'm not really in a good condition right now. Maybe later."

Ron sat down next to Harry, "Listen, Harry. That mirror... it's not good for you. Whatever you saw, it wasn't real. It's just messing with your head."

"Ron's right. It showed us all different things. It can't be trusted." Marteen said.

Harry looked between his friends, appreciating their concern even if they couldn't fully understand what he was feeling.

"I know you're probably right," he said slowly. "It's just... hard to forget."

Ron placed a comforting hand on Harry's shoulder. "We get it, mate. But don't let it consume you. We've got real mysteries to solve, remember?"

As they sat there, the three boys felt their bond strengthen. They had shared a secret adventure, faced a mysterious magical artifact, and were now supporting each other through its aftermath. Despite their different backgrounds and the challenges ahead, their friendship was proving to be a powerful force in its own right.

Later that afternoon, Harry snuck away from Ron and Marteen, making his way back to the room with the mirror. As he stepped in front of it, the familiar figures of his parents appeared, smiling warmly at him.

Harry sat cross-legged on the floor, looking up at the mirror with wide, eager eyes.

"Hi Mum, hi Dad,"

he said, his voice higher and more childlike than usual.

"I came back to see you again."

He waved at the reflections, grinning as they waved back. "Guess what? I learned a new spell before holidays in Charms class. Want to see?"

Harry pulled out his wand and made a swishing motion, pretending to cast the spell for his parents.

"Did you see that, Dad? Professor Flitwick said I did really well!"

He paused, as if listening to an imaginary response.

"Thanks, Mum! I'm trying my best."

Harry continued, chattering away to the silent reflections. "Oh, and Ron taught me a new chess move. I almost beat him this time! Maybe next time I'll win for sure."

He laughed at something only he could hear. "You're right, Dad. Practice makes perfect!"

As he talked, Harry's imagination filled in his parents' responses. In his mind, they praised him, encouraged him, and laughed at his jokes. He told them about his classes, his friends, and his adventures, while pretending they were actively participating in the conversation.

"And then Hagrid's dog, Fang, chased after the stick, but he tripped over his own ears!" Harry giggled, then cocked his head as if listening. "I know, Mum, I'll be careful not to laugh at him. He's a good dog, really."

As Harry continued his imaginary conversation with his parents in the mirror, he remained oblivious to the world around him.

"And then, Dad, I caught the snitch just like that! You should've seen Malfoy's face!" Harry giggled, gesturing wildly with his hands. "Do you think I'd make a good Seeker like you?"

He paused, pretending to listen to an answer, then beamed. "Thanks, Mum! I'll keep practicing, I promise!"

Suddenly, a gentle voice cut through Harry's fantasy.

"I must say, Harry, your father would indeed be proud of your flying skills."

Harry jumped, startled out of his reverie. He spun around to see Professor Dumbledore standing there, his blue eyes twinkling behind his half-moon spectacles.

"P-Professor Dumbledore!"

Harry stammered, his face flushing with embarrassment.

"I... I was just..."

Dumbledore raised a hand, smiling kindly. "No need to explain, my boy. I couldn't help but overhear your rather enthusiastic recounting of your adventures. It seems you've been having quite the animated conversation with your reflection."

Harry looked down, unsure how to respond. Dumbledore continued, "You know, Harry, I once knew a wizard who spent hours talking to his own reflection. Although in his case, I believe the mirror actually did talk back. Quite the narcissist, that one."

Despite his embarrassment, Harry couldn't help but giggle at the thought. Dumbledore's eyes twinkled with amusement.

"Now, Harry," Dumbledore said, "while I admire your imagination, I feel I must warn you about this particular mirror. It's not quite what it seems."

"What do you mean, sir?"

Dumbledore sighed, stroking his long beard thoughtfully. "This mirror, Harry, has a peculiar way of showing us what we most desire. But desires can be tricky things, especially when they're impossible to fulfill. They can consume us, distract us from the life we're meant to live. This, Harry, is called the Mirror of Erised. A curious name, isn't it?"

Harry nodded, then asked, "But Professor, why couldn't Ron and Marteen see my parents like I did? Ron saw himself as Head Boy and Quidditch Captain, and Marteen saw wizards respecting him."

"Ah," Dumbledore said, "That's the fascinating thing about this mirror, Harry. It shows each person their heart's deepest desire."

He paused, "You, who have never known your family, see them standing around you. It's the thing you want most in the world."

Harry nodded, understanding dawning on his face.

Dumbledore continued, "Now, Ronald Weasley has grown up with five accomplished older brothers. He's often felt overshadowed by their achievements. So, the mirror shows him standing alone, successful and admired in his own right."

"And Marteen?" Harry asked, curious about his new friend's vision.

"Marteen Grindelwald and his mother have faced persecution and expulsion due to his grandfather's dark history. The mirror shows Marteen being respected and admired by wizards, accepted for who he is rather than judged for his family name."

After a moment of contemplation, Harry looked up at Dumbledore, a question forming in his mind.

"Professor, if you don't mind me asking... why do you trust Marteen to learn at Hogwarts? Even if so many people told me that his grandfather was one of the most powerful and feared dark wizards of his time."

"Ah, Harry, that is an excellent question. You see, we must never judge someone solely based on their family's past. Marteen is his own person, with his own choices to make." Dumbledore said.

He paused, stroking his long beard thoughtfully. "I see something in Marteen that many others overlook. Potential, yes, but also a desire to forge his own path, to be more than just his grandfather's legacy."

Harry nodded slowly, considering Dumbledore's words. Then, curiosity getting the better of him, he asked,

"And... what do you see in me, Professor?"

"In you, Harry, I see a remarkable capacity for compassion and understanding. You've shown a willingness to look beyond surface appearances and give people a chance, even when others might not. Your acceptance of somebody, despite knowing his background, is a testament to that." Dumbledore explained.

The headmaster's words hung in the air between them, filled with meaning and gentle encouragement. Harry felt a warmth spread through him, realizing that Dumbledore had noticed and appreciated his efforts to befriend Marteen, despite the whispers and rumors that surrounded the Grindelwald name.

Dumbledore's expression turned serious as he placed a gentle hand on Harry's shoulder.

"Harry, I'm afraid I must tell you that the mirror will be moved to a new place tomorrow. It's not good for you to keep visiting it."

Harry's heart sank, and he looked up at Dumbledore with pleading eyes.

"But Professor, please... This is the only way I can see my parents. I don't even have any pictures of them. All I've ever had are other people's stories about them."

Dumbledore shook his head gently, "I understand your desire, Harry, truly I do. But we must not dwell on dreams and forget to live. Your parents gave their lives so that you could have a future. That future is not in this mirror, but out there in the world."

He paused, "Your parents live on in you, Harry. In your heart, in your actions, in the person you are becoming. No mirror can capture that essence better than you already do."

Harry felt a lump form in his throat. He wanted to protest, to argue. But deep down, he knew Dumbledore was right. It was a bitter pill to swallow, but he understood the wisdom in the headmaster's words.

Unable to speak past the tightness in his throat, Harry simply nodded, his eyes downcast.

Dumbledore squeezed his shoulder gently. "I know it's difficult, Harry. But remember, the ones who love us never truly leave us. You can always find them if you know where to look."

Harry nodded again, still silent. The truth of Dumbledore's words didn't make the loss any easier to bear, but it did offer a small comfort. As he stood there, preparing to say goodbye to the mirror and the illusion it offered, Harry felt a mix of sadness and resolve. He would carry the memory of what he'd seen in the mirror with him, but he would also try to honor his parents by living the life they had sacrificed themselves to give him.