Mother Magic and the Philosopher's stone

Chapter Twenty-Three

Harry thought about the mirror often, often enough that Padma began to worry when he stared off into space like he had a problem to solve. The Yule holiday passed like this, in comfortable silence, Harry, reading about magical artefacts or legilimency, or runes, but not really. Padma, reading about heroes and beasts, or charms, but not really. She studied Harry's face intently, concern evident on her delicate features.

'Harry, what's wrong?' Harry break from his reverie, eyes focusing back on the present, on Padma, as she sat next to him in the comfortable blue armchairs of the common room. 'You've been staring into space constantly for the last few days, is there anything I can help with?' Harry just smiled wryly, setting the book onto his lap and taking Padma's hands into his.

'Actually, there is.'

The pair left the common room, Padma taking two steps for every one of Harry's. He walked with purpose, grim determination on his features as he retraced his steps from a few nights ago, the empty classroom, door still ajar, waiting patiently for him like it expected his return any time now.

'The mirror,' Harry said quietly, unwilling to completely break the spell of the silence around the classroom. 'Look into the mirror and tell me what you see.' Padma did so, dark brown eyes staring intently at her reflection before widening in surprise.

'I'm a charms mistress, a-a member of the wizengamot, my sister is there too, she's smiling so sweetly she's proud of me. My grandmother! My grandmother is there too! But- but she died when I was five how is this possible?' Harry stared at the reflection of the two unknown boys, stared at Death and Time and Magic, no doubt Love and Destiny too.

'I don't know. I can only imagine it shows what you want to see, I can see my family, but, my parents are dead so it can't show the future.' Harry didn't want to mention the deities, or the faceless boys he had come to cherish since seeing them for the first time. Those secrets were his and his alone, not even Padma, dear as she was to him, would ever understand, or ever find out.

Padma traced the odd looking runes on the mirror's frame, a puzzled expression on her face.

'I think these are the english alphabet, do you think? No that would be too simple.'

'Think what, Pads? You're very rarely wrong.'

'Maybe the text is just backwards. It's on a mirror after all.' Mulling it over for a second, Harry nodded, pulling out a scrap of parchment and a pen to write the letters backwards.

'I show not your face but your heart's desire. You were right it was reflected. Stars know why it was, but it was.'

'Oh!' Padma seemed excited, positively vibrating on the spot as her eyes gleamed with an epiphany. 'I've heard of this mirror, Nonna used to tell me stories about it when I was a little girl. The mirror of Erised, shows your deepest desires, many wixen have wasted away in front of it, entranced by the images of things that they can't obtain. Only the happiest man in the world could stand in front of it and see only himself.' Harry couldn't help but laugh

'Those are the kinds of stories parents tell their kids here? Talk about morbid.' Padma only grinned in reply.

'I know, but here's the bigger question, what's it doing in the middle of an abandoned classroom anyway? Anyone could stumble across it!'

That was a good question, actually.

--

In the Gryffindor boys dormitory two boys get changed for a quick beaters game against each other before the train comes in delivering the rest of the students back at school after the holidays. It is only because they're alone that they notice a small leatherbound book appearing on the table between their two beds, it seems as old as the restricted section books in the school library, but it's not a book either of them had heard of before, and the title has faded to much to completely make out. 'Th? L??e O? S?u???te M??icke' was all that was visible, and the tiny author's name, written in emerald ink, 'Cassandra Valbatsky'. The name was just as unfamiliar as the book, and the twins looked at each other confused.