Christmas is almost here. One morning in mid-December, Hogwarts woke up to a blanket of snow about a meter thick. The lake had frozen solid and the Weasley twins were being punished for conjuring several snowballs to follow Quirrell, and bounce off the back of his turban. The few owls that managed to brave the blizzard skies to deliver letters had to be nursed back to health by Hagrid before they could fly again.
Everyone can’t wait for the holidays to come. Even though the Gryffindor common room and the Great Hall had roaring fireplaces, the usually drafty corridors had turned icy cold and a strong cold wind hit the classroom windows until they shook. The worst thing was Professor Snape’s class in the basement. In that space their breath immediately turned into mist before their eyes and they tried to get as close as possible to their hot cauldrons.
“I really feel sorry,” said Draco Malfoy during one of his Potions lessons, “for all the children who are forced to stay at Hogwarts during the Christmas holidays because they are not wanted at home.”
He said that while turning to look at Harry. Crabbe and Goyle laughed a little. Harry, who was measuring the lionfish spine powder, paid them no attention. Malfoy had become even more annoying since the last Quidditch match. Annoyed because
Slytherin loses, he tries to make a joke by saying a big-mouthed toad will replace Harry as Seeker in the next match. Then he realized that no one thought this was funny, because the children were so impressed with how Harry managed to stay on his crazy broomstick. So Malfoy, who was jealous and angry, mocked Harry again by pointing out that Harry had no family.
It was true that Harry wouldn’t be coming home to Privet Drive this Christmas. Professor McGonagall had gone around the previous week, taking down the names of the children who would be staying at Hogwarts for the holidays, and Harry had signed up straight away. He himself wasn’t discouraged at all, maybe this would even be his happiest Christmas. Ron and his brothers would also stay, because Mr and Mrs Weasley were going to Romania to visit Charlie.
When leaving the dungeon at the end of the Potions lesson, they saw a large pine tree blocking the corridor ahead. Two giant feet appearing at the bottom and loud gasps told them Hagrid was behind the tree.
”Hey, Hagrid, need any help?” Ron asked, poking his head through the branches.
“No, I’m fine. Thank you, Ron.”
“Move,” came Malfoy’s cold growl from behind them. “Are you trying to make some extra money, Weasley? Wants to be a gamekeeper after leaving Hogwarts, apparently – Hagrid’s hut must be more like a palace than your family home.”
Ron lunged at Malfoy just as Snape came up the stairs. “WEASLEY!”
Ron removed the front of Malfoy’s robes.
“He’s been provoked, Professor Snape,” said Hagrid, poking his big furry face out from behind a tree. “Malfoy insulted his family.”
“Even if that’s true, fighting is forbidden at Hogwarts, Hagrid,” snapped Snape. “Five points deducted from Gryffindor, Weasley, and be thankful for nothing more. Come on, everyone keep going.”
Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle stormed through the trees grinning, sending the fallen pine needles scattering.
“I’ll teach him a lesson,” said Ron, gritting his teeth behind Malfoy’s back. “One day I’ll teach him a lesson…”
“I hate them both,” said Harry. “Malfoy and Snape.”
“Come on, cheer up, it’s almost Christmas,” said Hagrid. “Tell you what, come with me and see the Great Hall, it’s beautiful.”
So Harry, Ron, and Hermione followed Hagrid and his pine tree into the Great Hall. Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick were busy working on the Christmas decorations.
”Ah, Hagrid, the last tree… just put it in the far corner.”
The hall looked spectacular. Garlands of holly and mistletoe hung along the walls and no less than twelve Christmas trees towered around the room, some glistening with strands of frozen water, others twinkling with hundreds of candles.
“How many days until you guys go on holiday?” asked Hagrid.
“Just a day,” said Hermione. “And that reminds me—Harry, Ron, we have half an hour before lunch, we’re supposed to be at the library.”
“Oh, yeah, you’re right,” said Ron, with difficulty averting his gaze from Professor Flitwick who was making golden bubbles emerge from the tip of his wand and hanging them on the branches of the new tree.
“Library?” said Hagrid, following them out of the Hall. “The day before the holiday? Very diligent.”
“Oh, we didn’t study,” said Harry cheerfully. “Since you mentioned Nicolas Flamel, we’ve been trying to find out who he is.”
” What? Hagrid looked shocked. ”Listen… I told you… forget it.
It has nothing to do with what the dog is guarding.”
“We want to know who Nicolas Flamel is, that’s all,” said Hermione.
“Unless you want to tell us, so we don’t have to bother?” Harry added. “We’ve gone through over a hundred books and we can’t find it anywhere… give us a hint—I think I’ve read that name somewhere.”
“I don’t want to say anything,” said Hagrid dryly.
“Then we’ll look for it ourselves,” said Ron. They then left the disgruntled Hagrid behind and rushed towards the library.
They had been looking for Flamel’s name in the books since Hagrid had let slip because otherwise how would they know what Snape wanted to steal? The difficulty is, it’s very difficult to know where they should start, because they don’t know what Flamel has done that makes his name worthy of being mentioned in a book. He is not in the books Great Wizards of the Twentieth Century or Famous Names in Today’s Wizarding World ; his name is also not mentioned in Important Discoveries of Modern Magic and Recent Developments in the Wizarding World . And of course, it must be remembered how huge the library was: tens of thousands of books, thousands of shelves, hundreds of narrow rows.
Hermione pulled out a list of topics and titles she had decided to look for, while Ron walked down the row of books and started pulling out some of them at random. Harry walked into the Forbidden Section. For some time he had been thinking whether Flamel’s name might be there. Unfortunately, you needed a letter signed by one of the teachers to be able to borrow one of the forbidden books, and Harry knew he wouldn’t get such a letter. The ones in this section were books containing potent Dark Magic that were never taught at Hogwarts and were only read by higher grade students whose studies in Defense Against the Dark Arts were much more advanced.
“What are you looking for, son?”
“Not looking for anything,” answered Harry.
Madam Pince, the librarian, brandished a cleaner made of chicken feathers at Harry.
“Then you better get out. Let’s get out!”
Harry regretted not having thought of an excuse a little sooner. Harry left the library. Together with Ron and Hermione, the three of them had agreed not to ask Madam Pince where they could find Flamel. They were sure Madam Pince would be able to tell them, but they didn’t want to risk Snape hearing what they were doing.
Harry waited in the corridor, in case his two friends found something, but he didn’t get his hopes up. They had been looking for two weeks, but since they only searched between classes, it wasn’t surprising that they hadn’t found anything.
What. What they need is a long search without Madam Pince suspecting them.
Five minutes later, Ron and Hermione joined him, shaking their heads. They go to lunch.
“You’ll keep looking while I’m gone, right?” said Hermione. “And owl me if you find anything.”
“And you could ask your parents if they know who Flamel is,” said Ron. ”It’s safe to ask them.”
“Very safe, because they’re both dentists,” said Hermione.
As soon as the holidays started, Ron and Harry were too happy to think about Flamel. Their room only had the two of them and the common room was much emptier than usual, so they were able to sit in comfortable armchairs by the fire. They sat for a long time eating everything they could stick with a baking fork—bread, cake, sweets—and planning ways to get Malfoy expelled. It’s fun to talk about that, even though it’s clear it won’t happen.
Ron also taught Harry to play wizarding chess. Actually, it’s exactly like Muggle chess, only the pieces are alive, so playing it feels like leading an army in battle. Ron’s chess set was old and tattered. Like everything else he owned, the chessboard once belonged to someone else in his family—in this case his grandfather. Nonetheless, the old chess pieces were no obstacle at all. Ron knew everyone so well that he never had any trouble getting them to do what he wanted.
Harry was playing with the chess pieces that Seamus Finnigan had lent him and they didn’t want to obey him at all. He wasn’t very good at playing yet and the pieces kept shouting suggestions at him, confusing him. “Don’t send me there, haven’t you seen the officer? Just send him , if you lose him it’s okay.”
On Christmas Eve, Harry went to bed happy, looking forward to the next day, hoping for food and joy, but not at all for presents. However, early in the morning
he woke up, the first thing he saw was a small pile of packages at the foot of his bed.
“Merry Christmas,” said Ron still sleepily as Harry got out of bed and put on his dressing gown.
“Merry Christmas too,” said Harry. “Look at this. I got a gift!”
“Of course. What do you hope to get? Turnip?” said Ron, turning to look at his pile of presents, which were much larger than Harry’s.
Harry took the top package. This gift is wrapped in thick brown paper and on it is written For Harry, from Hagrid . Inside was a crudely made wooden flute. Obviously Hagrid made it himself. Harry blew on it – it sounded a bit like an owl.
The second, small envelope contains a short letter.
We received your message and enclosed your Christmas gift. From Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia . Sticked to the letter with tape was a fifty pence coin .
“Wow, they’re good,” said Harry.
Ron was fascinated by the fifty pence piece . “ Strange ,” he said. “The shape is magical. Is this money ?”
“That’s fine for you,” said Harry. He laughed at how excited Ron was. “Hagrid and my aunt and uncle—so who sent this?”
“I think I know who that one is from,” said Ron, blushing slightly, pointing to the irregularly shaped package. “My mom. I told him you didn’t expect to get a present and—oh, no,” he groaned, “he made you a Weasley vest.”
Harry had torn open the package and found an emerald green sleeveless knitted sweater and a large box of homemade soft bonbons.
“Every year he makes us vests,” said Ron, unwrapping his own, “and mine is always crimson.”
“Your mother is very kind,” said Harry. He tried the bonbons, which were delicious.
His next gift also contained a snack—a large box of Chocolate Frogs from Hermione.
One more gift left. Harry took it and cradled it.
Very light. He opened the gift wrapper.
Something slippery silver-gray slid to the floor, lying glistening. Ron was completely shocked.
“I’ve heard about that,” he said awestruck, the box of Every Flavor Beans he had gotten from Hermione dropping. “If it is as I suspect—it is very rare and very valuable.”
“What’s this?”
Harry picked up the silvery shiny cloth from the floor. It felt strange, like water woven into cloth.
“It’s the Invisibility Cloak,” said Ron, a look of amazement on his face. “I believe this is the Invisibility Cloak—try it on.”
Harry threw the cloak around his shoulders and Ron let out a yelp.
“That’s right! Look down!”
Harry looked down at his feet, but they weren’t there. He ran in front of the mirror. Indeed, his image was looking at him, but only his head was floating in the air, his entire body had completely disappeared. He pulled the robe over his head, and his image disappeared completely.
“There’s a letter!” Ron said suddenly. “A letter fell from the robe!”
Harry took off his robes and grabbed the letter. Written in slender, twisted letters he had never seen before were the following words:
Your father left it to me before he died. It’s time this was returned to you.
Use it well.
Merry Christmas to you.
No signature. Harry frowned at the letter. Ron was busy admiring the cloak.
“I would give anything to have this,” he said. ” Anything . What is it?”
“It’s okay,” said Harry. He felt very strange. Who sent this robe? Is it true that this used to belong to his father?
Before he could say or think anything else, the bedroom door burst open and Fred and George Weasley jumped in. Harry quickly put the cloak away. He wasn’t willing to share it with anyone else yet.
“Merry Christmas!”
“Hey, look—Harry got a Weasley vest too!”
Fred and George wear blue vests, one with a big yellow F, the other with a big yellow G.
“But Harry’s vest is better than ours,” said Fred as he lifted Harry’s vest. “Obviously Mum tries harder if she’s making something not for the family.”
“Why aren’t you wearing yours, Ron?” George questioned. “Come on, put it on, the vest is nice and warm.”
“I hate red,” Ron complained half-heartedly as he pulled his vest over his head.
“Yours doesn’t have any letters on it,” George realized. “Evidently Mum thought you wouldn’t forget your name. But we are not stupid—we know our names are Gred and Forge.”
“What’s going on, so much noise?”
Percy Weasley poked his head into the room, looking displeased. Apparently he had also just opened his gift, because he also had a vest slung in his hand. Fred immediately grabbed the vest.
”P is for Prefect! Put it on, Percy, come on, we all wear our vests, even Harry too.”
”I… don’t… want to…,” Percy said as the twins forced the vest over his head, making his glasses askew.
“And you’re not with the other prefects today,” said George. “Christmas is a time for family.”
They marched Percy out of the room, his vest pinning his arms.
Harry had never experienced a Christmas meal like that in his life. A hundred fat roast turkeys, a mountain of roasted and boiled potatoes, plates of greasy chipolata , bowls of buttered peas, an assortment of delicious sauces—and stacks of magical firecrackers every meter along the table. Amazing firecrackers
these were completely different from the Muggle firecrackers the Dursleys often bought, they contained small plastic toys and flimsy paper hats. Together with Fred, Harry pulled out a magic firecracker, and the firecracker not only went off, but boomed like a cannon and covered them all in blue smoke, while from inside it exploded a red admiral’s hat along with several live white mice. At the High Table, Dumbledore had swapped his pointed hat for a flowered hat and was laughing at a joke that Professor Flitwick had read.
Flaming Christmas pudding is served after the turkey. Percy’s teeth nearly broke when he bit into the silver Sickle tucked into his piece of pudding. Harry looked at Hagrid whose face was getting redder and redder as he kept asking for more wine, and finally kissed Professor McGonagall on the cheek. To Harry’s surprise he saw Professor McGonagall giggling and blushing, her hat askew.
When Harry finally left the banquet table, he was carrying a multitude of firecracker gifts, including a pack of burst-proof flaming balloons, a set of tools for growing your own moles, and his new wizarding chess game set. The white mice had disappeared and Harry had a bad feeling they would end up as Mrs Norris’ Christmas dinner.
Harry and the Weasley brothers spent a fun afternoon having a fun snowball fight in the yard. Afterwards, cold, soaking wet, and out of breath, they returned to the fire in the Gryffindor common room. There Harry played his new chess set for the first time and lost badly to Ron. He felt like he wouldn’t have lost so badly if Percy hadn’t tried to help him constantly.
After afternoon tea with turkey sandwiches , sweet cakes and Christmas tarts, everyone felt too full and sleepy to do anything before bed. So they just sat there, watching Percy chase Fred and George around Gryffindor Tower because they had stolen his Prefect badge.
That day was the most beautiful Christmas for Harry. However, something bothered him throughout the day. Before he got into bed, he wasn’t free to think about it: the Invisibility Cloak and who knows who sent it.
Ron, stuffed with turkey and tarts and with nothing mysterious to bother him, fell asleep as soon as he pulled back the mosquito net. Harry bent over the side of his bed and pulled the Invisibility Cloak out from under him.
His father’s… this used to be his father’s. He let the fabric slide in his hands, smoother than silk, light as air. Use it wisely , the letter says.
He had to try this robe on now. He got out of bed and draped the robe over his body. Looking down at his feet, he saw only moonlight and shadows.
Use it well.
Suddenly, Harry’s sleepiness disappeared. All of Hogwarts was open to him if he wore this robe. A pleasant tension coursed through his body as he stood in the darkness and silence. He could go anywhere in this robe, anywhere, and Filch wouldn’t know.
Ron was delirious in his sleep. Should Harry wake him? Something was holding him back—his father’s cloak—he felt that this time… for the first time… he wanted to use it himself.
He tiptoed out of his room, down the stairs, across the common room, and climbed out of the portrait hole.
“Who’s that?” shrieked the Fat Lady. Harry didn’t answer. He walked quickly along the corridor.
Where should you go? Harry stopped, his heart pounded, and he thought. And he got an idea. Forbidden Section in the library. He would be able to read as long as he wanted, as long as it took to discover who Flamel was. He went to the library, pulling his Invisibility Cloak tighter as he went.
The library was pitch black and the atmosphere was eerie. Harry turned on the light so he could walk along the rows of bookshelves. The lamp seemed to float in the air, and although Harry could feel his hand gripping the lamp, the strange sight horrified him.
The Forbidden Section is located at the very back. Stepping carefully over the string that separated these books from the others in the library, Harry lifted the lamp so he could read the titles.
The titles didn’t help him much. The peeling gold letters formed words in a language Harry couldn’t understand. Some books don’t even have titles at all. One book had a dark stain that looked a lot like blood. The hairs on Harry’s neck stood up. Maybe it was just him, maybe not, but Harry felt faint whispers coming from the books, as if they knew there were people who shouldn’t be there.
He had to start anyway. After placing the lamp carefully on the floor, he looked for an interesting-looking book on the bottom shelf. A large black-and-silver book caught his eye. He pulled it out with difficulty, because the book was very heavy. Harry placed it on his knees and opened it.
A shrill, blood-curdling scream broke the silence—the book screamed! Harry quickly closed it again, but the scream continued, a long, ear-splitting scream. Harry stumbled backwards and hit his lamp, which immediately went out. Panicking at the sound of approaching footsteps in the corridor outside—she stuffed the screaming book back onto its shelf, then she ran. He ran into Filch near the door. Filch’s pale, wide eyes stared right through him and Harry slipped under Filch’s outstretched arms and ran down the corridor, the book’s screams still shrill in his ears.
He stopped suddenly in front of a set of tall armor. He was too busy running away from the library to pay attention to where he was running. Maybe because it was dark, he didn’t recognize his surroundings at all. There was a suit of armor near the kitchen, he knew, but he must have been five floors above the kitchen.
“You asked me to come straight to you, Professor, if anyone was wandering around at night, and there was just someone in the library—the Forbidden Section.”
Harry felt his face turn pale. Wherever he was, Filch must have known a shortcut, for his smooth, smooth voice sounded close, and to Harry’s surprise, it was Snape who answered.
”Forbidden Sexy? Well, they must not be far, we will catch them.”
Harry froze in place when Filch and Snape appeared around the corner ahead. They couldn’t see it, of course, but the corridor was narrow and if they got any closer they would crash into it—the cloak didn’t make it any less dense.
He backed away as slowly as possible. There is a slightly open door on the left. That’s the only hope. He slipped in, holding his breath, trying not to bump the door, and what a relief he was when he got in without Snape and Filch noticing. They walked on and Harry leaned against the wall, taking deep breaths, listening to their footsteps getting further away. Just barely, very close. It was only a few seconds later that he noticed the room where he was hiding.
It looks like an unused classroom. Tables and chairs were piled up against one of the walls, as well as an open trash can, but… leaning against the wall, facing him, there was something that didn’t seem to belong there, something that looked like it had been hidden there on purpose.
It was a magnificent mirror, floor-to-ceiling, with an engraved gold frame, standing on two claws. There was writing engraved on the top: Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi .
His panic began to fade after Filch and Snape’s voices could no longer be heard. Harry moved closer to the mirror, wanting to look at himself, but saw no reflection. He stepped in front of the mirror.
He had to cover his mouth with his hands to prevent him from screaming. He quickly turned around. His heart was beating much faster than when the book had screamed—because he wasn’t just looking at himself in the mirror… a whole group of other people were standing behind him.
But the room was empty. Taking a deep breath, he slowly turned back to the mirror.
There he was, reflected in the mirror, pale and frightened, and there, behind him, were at least ten other people. Harry glanced over his shoulder—still no one was there. Are they all invisible too? Was he actually in a room full of invisible people, and the magic of the mirror actually showed all those people, visible and invisible?
Harry looked again at the mirror. A woman standing right behind his reflection smiled at him and waved. Harry reached out and felt the empty air behind him. If she were really there, he would be able to touch her, their images were so close together, but he only felt air— she and the others were only in the mirror.
The woman was very beautiful. His hair was dark red and his eyes – they were exactly mine, Harry thought, inching closer to the mirror. Bright green – exactly the same shape, but then Harry saw the woman crying; smiling but at the same time, crying. The tall, thin, black-haired man was next to him, hugging him. The man was wearing glasses, and his hair was very messy. His hair stuck out at the back, just like Harry’s.
Harry was so close to the mirror now that his nose was almost touching his reflection’s nose.
“Mum?” he whispered. “Dad?”
They just looked at him, smiling. And slowly Harry looked at other people’s faces in the mirror, and saw other green eyes like his own, another nose like his own, even a little old man with knobby knees like Harry’s—Harry was looking at his family, for the first time. times in his life.
The Potters smiled and waved and Harry stared back at them disgruntledly, both hands pressed against the glass, as if he was hoping to fall through it and join them. His heart ached, half happy, half sad.
How long he stood there, he didn’t know. The shadows of the people didn’t disappear and Harry stared until a distant sound snapped him out of it. He couldn’t stay here, he had to go back to his dorm. With great reluctance he turned away from his mother’s face, whispered, “I’ll be back,” and hurried from the room.
“You should have woken me,” said Ron angrily.
“You can come tonight, I’ll be there again, I want to show you the mirror.”
“I want to see your mother and father,” said Ron excitedly.
“And I want to see all your family, you will be able to show me your two biggest brothers and the rest of your family.”
“You can see them any time,” said Ron. “Come to my house this summer. Besides, maybe the mirror only shows dead people. Too bad you didn’t find Flamel. Eat this bacon, or something. Why don’t you eat anything?”
Harry couldn’t eat. He had already seen his parents and would see them again tonight. He had almost forgotten about Flamel. Flamel doesn’t seem that important anymore. Who cares what the three-headed dog is guarding? Actually, what did you care if Snape stole it? “Are you okay?” Ron asked. “You look strange.”
What Harry feared most was that he would no longer be able to find the mirror room. Shrouded in cloaks, with Ron, they had to walk much more slowly the next night. They tried to retrace Harry’s route from the library, winding around the dark halls for almost an hour.
“I’m cold,” said Ron. “Come on, let’s just forget it and go back to our room.”
“No!” Harry hissed. “I know it’s somewhere around here.”
They passed the ghost of a tall wizard floating in the opposite direction, but saw no one else. Just as Ron was starting to complain that his feet were freezing, Harry saw the suit of armour.
“That’s the room—right here—yes!”
They pushed open the door. Harry dropped the cloak from his shoulders and ran to the mirror.
That’s them. His father and mother smiled at him. “Look?” Harry whispered.
“I didn’t see anything.”
“Look! Look at them all… there are so many…” “I can only see you.”
“Look carefully, here, stand in my place.”
Harry moved aside, but with Ron in front of the mirror, he could no longer see his family, only saw Ron in his pajamas.
Ron, on the other hand, was staring at his reflection. “Look at me!” he said.
“Can you see all your family surrounding you?”
“No… I’m alone… but I’m different… I look older… and I’m Head Boy!”
“What?”
“I… I wear a badge like Bill used to wear… and I hold the House Cup and the Quidditch Cup… I’m Quidditch captain too!”
Ron looked away from this incredible sight to look passionately at Harry.
“Do you think this mirror shows the future?”
“How come? My whole family is dead—let me look again….”
“You’ve had enough of last night, give me a little more chance.”
“You’re just holding the Quidditch Cup, what’s so interesting about it? I want to see my parents.”
“Don’t push me…”
Suddenly a voice was heard in the corridor, ending their argument.
They didn’t realize they were talking out loud. “Fast!”
Ron draped the cloak over them as Mrs Norris’s sparkling eyes appeared through the door. Ron and Harry stood in silence, both wondering the same thing—did this cloak work on cats too? After what felt like an eternity, the cat turned and left.
“It’s no longer safe—who knows if he might run into Filch. He must have heard us. Come on.”
And Ron pulled Harry out of the room.
The snow still hadn’t melted the next day. “Want to play chess, Harry?” Ron asked.
“No.”
“Shall we visit Hagrid?” “No… you just…”
“I know what you’re thinking, Harry, that mirror. Don’t go back there tonight.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t know, I just don’t feel right—after all, you’ve almost been caught a few times. Filch, Snape, and Mrs Norris wandered around. Indeed, they cannot see you. But what if they hit you? What if you hit something?”
“You look like Hermione.”
“I’m serious, Harry, don’t go.”
But Harry was only thinking about one thing, and that was getting back in front of the mirror, and Ron couldn’t stop him.
The third night he found the room quicker than before. He walked very fast, he knew it wasn’t wise, because he was making noise, but he didn’t meet anyone.
And his father and mother smiled at him again, and one of his grandfathers nodded happily. Harry slumped down in front of the mirror. Nothing could prevent him from staying here all night with his family. No.
Except…
“Wow… back again, Harry?”
Harry felt as if his organs had turned to ice. He looked back. Sitting at one of the tables against the wall was none other than Albus Dumbledore. Harry must have passed by, so eager to get to the mirror that he didn’t look.
“I… I didn’t see you, Sir.”
“Strange how ‘invisibility’ makes you nearsighted,” said Dumbledore, and Harry was relieved to see him smile.
“So,” said Dumbledore, getting off the table to sit on the floor with Harry, “you, like hundreds of others before you, have discovered the pleasures to be had from the Mirror of Erised.”
“I didn’t know what his name was, sir.”
“But I guess now you realize what the mirror does?”
“That mirror… that mirror shows my family…”
“And showed Ron himself as the Head of Disciples.” “How did you know…?”
“I don’t need a cloak to be invisible,” said Dumbledore gently. “Now, can you think about what the Mirror shows
Tell us all?” Harry shook his head.
“Let me explain. The happiest person in the world can use the Mirror of Erised like an ordinary mirror, that is, when he looks into the mirror he sees only himself as he is. Does this help?”
Harry thought. Then he said slowly: “The mirror shows us what we want… whatever we want…”
“Yes and no,” said Dumbledore quietly. “The mirror only shows the deepest desires of our hearts. You, who never knew your family, saw them standing around you. Ronald Weasley, who always felt inferior to his brothers’ success, saw himself standing alone, becoming the best among them. However, this mirror gives us neither knowledge nor truth. Many people have been wasted in front of this mirror, mesmerized by what they see, or driven mad by it, not knowing whether what the mirror shows is real or even possible.
“Tomorrow the mirror will be moved to a new place, Harry, and I ask you not to look for it again. The next time you happen to see him, you’ll be ready. There’s no point in thinking about dreams for so long that you forget to live, remember that. Well, now how about you put on that special robe again and go to bed?”
Harry got up.
”Sir—Professor Dumbledore? Can I ask something?”
“Obviously, you just asked,” smiled Dumbledore. “But you can ask one more thing.”
“What do you see when you look in the mirror?”
“I? I saw myself holding a pair of thick wool socks.” Harry gaped.
“Everyone always needs new socks,” said Dumbledore. “Christmas has passed again and I haven’t got a pair of socks. People insist on giving me books.”
It was only when he was back in bed that it occurred to Harry that Dumbledore might not have been completely honest. But, Harry thought as he pushed Scabbers off his pillow, his question had been quite personal.
* The inscription on the Mirror of Erised ( see): Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi if read from the back and the spaces are “arranged”, it will read: I show not your face but your heart’s desire . Meaning: I don’t show your face, but what your heart desires .
