"I don't think Erised in a real word," Hermione said.
"It's not what it looks like," Luna said, "It's a word spelled backwards, after all, like how words usually appear in a mirror."
Harry looked at he book in his hand again, noting that she was right.
"It's 'desire', which means that this chapter is basically "The Mirror of Desire'," he said. "I wonder why…"
Christmas was coming. One morning in mid-December, Hogwarts woke to find itself covered in several feet of snow. The lake froze solid and the Weasley twins were punished for bewitching several snowballs so that they followed Quirrell around, bouncing off the back of his turban.
Hermione shook her head at that, while Cedric and Harry laughed, able to just imagine it in their minds.
The few owls that managed to battle their way through the stormy sky to deliver mail had to be nursed back to health by Hagrid before they could fly off again.
"Poor owls," Luna said.
No one could wait for the holidays to start.
"Of course not," Hermione said, able to understand the appeal of the holidays; she new more than a few teachers who had admitted they themselves could hardly wait for the holidays.
While the Gryffindor common room and the Great Hall had roaring fires, the drafty corridors had become icy and a bitter wind rattled the windows in the classrooms.
"I think you, Hermione, should make learning about warming charms a priority before winter comes," Harry said. He would do it himself, but he knew she would take to the challenge better than he would.
Worst of all were Professor Snape's classes down in the dungeons, where their breath rose in a mist before them and they kept as close as possible to their hot cauldrons.
"Of course, because he doesn't know the meaning of not freezing the students," Cedric said.
"I do feel so sorry," said Draco Malfoy, one Potions class, "for all those people who have to stay at Hogwarts for Christmas because they're not wanted at home."
"Why that little –" started Cedric, only to stop when he saw the others looking at him, and remembered that there were quite a few people there who really shouldn't hear the word he was about to say.
He was looking over at Harry as he spoke. Crabbe and Goyle chuckled. Harry, who was measuring out powdered spine of lionfish, ignored them.
"That sounds like it is the best thing to do considering the circumstances," Hermione said with a nod.
Malfoy had been even more unpleasant than usual since the Quidditch match.
"He must be sulking because his house didn't win," Hermione said.
Disgusted that the Slytherins had lost, he had tried to get everyone laughing at how a wide-mouthed tree frog would be replacing Harry as Seeker next.
The four looked at each other, each thinking the same thing: That's not really funny.
Then he'd realized that nobody found this funny, because they were all so impressed at the way Harry had managed to stay on his bucking broomstick. So Malfoy, jealous and angry, had gone back to taunting Harry about having no proper family.
Bastard Cedric thought.
It was true that Harry wasn't going back to Privet Drive for Christmas.
"Why would I want to?" Harry asked rhetorically.
"Well, you can always come spend Christmas with my family," Hermione offered.
"Or mine," Cedric said.
"I'm sure Daddy wouldn't mind having company over," Luna said. Harry looked rather touched at the offers.
Professor McGonagall had come around the week before, making a list of students who would be staying for the holidays, and Harry had signed up at once. He didn't feel sorry for himself at all; this would probably be the best Christmas he'd ever had.
"Well, Christmas at Hogwarts is rather wonderful," Cedric said, having stayed there the previous year. It was like a requirement for students to stay there at least one winter holiday. At least, that's how it seemed, since, as far as he knew, everyone had done that.
Ron and his brothers were staying, too, because Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were going to Romania to visit Charlie.
"What about…Ginny, was it? The little girl? What about her?" asked Hermione.
"She probably went with her parents," Cedric said.
"I would have thought it would have said that, then," Hermione said.
"I probably don't really remember her, or Ron just didn't mention it, and I didn't ask," said Harry.
When they left the dungeons at the end of Potions, they found a large fir tree blocking the corridor ahead. Two enormous feet sticking out at the bottom and a loud puffing sound told them that Hagrid was behind it.
'Hi, Hagrid, want any help?" Ron asked, sticking his head through the branches.
"It's nice of him to ask. Most people would probably demand Hagrid to move, or just ignore him as they waited for him to move," Cedric said. No one there had to ask who it was that would be of the demanding party; it just seemed like something that Malfoy would do.
"Nah, I'm all right, thanks, Ron."
"Would you mind moving out of the way?" came Malfoy's cold drawl from behind them.
"I wonder what would happen if Malfoy was told to do manual work with no magic," Hermione said.
"He'd probably either complain too much or die of shock," Cedric said.
"Are you trying to earn some extra money, Weasley? Hoping to be gamekeeper yourself when you leave Hogwarts, I suppose – that hut of Hagrid's must seem like a palace compared to what your family's used to."
"Considering that Ron actually has his own room in his house, not really, since Hagrid's hurt is only one room," Luna said.
Ron dived at Malfoy just as Snape came up the stairs.
"Bad timing," Cedric groaned.
"I bet Malfoy purposely said that just so that Ron would be caught by Snape. By now I'm sure that he's probably noticed that Snape is favorably towards his house, after all," Harry said.
"WEASLEY!"
Ron let go of the front of Malfoy's robes.
"He was provoked, Professor Snape," said Hagrid, sticking his huge hairy face out from behind the tree. "Malfoy was insultin' his family."
"Unfortunately, not only does Snape not care about the others outside of his own house, physical fighting is against the rules, so Ron's going to lose points either way," Cedric said.
"Be that as it may, fighting is against Hogwarts rules, Hagrid," said Snape silkily. "Five points from Gryffindor, Weasley, and be grateful it isn't more."
"He should – Snape could have easily taken a lot more than he actually did," Cedric said.
"Move along, all of you."
Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle pushed roughly past the tree, scattering needled everywhere and smirking.
"They should be made to clean that up," Hermione said.
"They won't, though," Cedric said. "Cleaning without magic is something that happens during detention, so, unless they get detention, they wouldn't be told to do it themselves."
"I'll get him," said Ron, grinding his teeth at Malfoy's back, "one of these days, I'll get him –"
"I hate them both," said Harry, "Malfoy and Snape."
"Come on, cheer up, it's nearly Christmas," said Hagrid. "Tell yeh what, come with me an' see the Great Hall, looks a treat."
So the three of them followed Hagrid and his tree off to the Great Hall, where Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick were busy with the Christmas decorations.
"Ah, Hagrid, the last tree – put it in the far corner, would you?"
The hall looked spectacular. Festoons of holly and mistletoe hung all around the walls, and no less than twelve towering Christmas trees stood around the room, some sparkling with tiny icicles, some glittering with hundred of candles.
"Sounds beautiful," Hermione sighed.
"How many days you got left until yer holidays?" Hagrid asked.
"Just one," said Hermione. "And that reminds me – Harry, Ron, we've got half an hour before lunch, we should be in the library."
'We must be looking up Flamel," said Harry. The others nodded, since that was probably the only way to get Ron and Harry to the library the day before the holidays.
"Oh, yeah, you're right," said Ron, tearing his eyes away from Professor Flitwick, who had golden bubbles blossoming out of his wand and was trailing them over the branches of the new tree.
"The library?" said Hagrid, following them out of the hall. "Just before the holidays? But keen, aren't yeh?"
"Oh, we're not working," Harry told him brightly. "Ever since you mentioned Nicolas Flamel we've been trying to find out who he is."
"That's going to shock Hagrid, especially since he probably told you not to bother with it," Cedric said.
"You what?" Hagrid looked shocked. 'Listen here – I've told yeh – drop it. It's nothin' to you what that dog's guardin'."
"That is true, it's really is none of your business," Luna said.
"But we have to know what someone was trying to steal," Hermione said.
"No, you don't, especially since it doesn't have to do with you," Luna said.
"We just want to know who Nicolas Flamel is, that's all," said Hermione.
"That is true, we do want to know who he is," Hermione said.
"We kinda already know what he is; an alchemist," Harry said.
"Not in the book, since you don't really remember anything," Hermione pointed out, then she gasped as something else went through her mind. She couldn't believe that she hadn't thought of this beforehand.
"What?" Cedric said.
"Oh, it's just that I had a thought of what it might be that being hidden," Hermione said. "And I can't really believe that I didn't think of this the last chapter, when it was first mentioned."
"What is it?" Harry asked.
"The Sorcerer's Stone. That's what alchemists usually focused on trying to create. Flamel probably did create one; it would explain why it was almost stolen, because they're not exactly easy to make," Hermione said.
"What does it do? Why is it so important? Harry asked. Hermione shrugged.
"I'm not exactly sure. I just know that I've heard about it at one point from my dad," Hermione said. "And I wasn't exactly interested in knowing what it was at the time."
"Unless you'd like to tell us and save us the trouble?" Harry added. "We must've been through hundred of books already and we can't find him anywhere – just give us a hint – I know I've read his name somewhere."
"So you remember that you've read his name before, but not where," Hermione said. "Why don't you think of everything you've read then?"
"You do know that he's not going to say anything, right," Cedric said.
"Why did he say something in the last chapter, then, since he wasn't drunk, we didn't flatter him, and we didn't offer him anything?" Hermione asked.
"You caught him off guard," Cedric said, though he had to admit that it was a weak defense. Usually, the ways of getting information from Hagrid were very clear; he'd never heard of Hagrid spilling information when caught off guard.
"I'm sayin' nothin'," said Hagrid flatly.
"Just have to find out for ourselves, then," said Ron, and they left Hagrid looking disgruntled and hurried off to the library.
"Poor Hagrid," Harry said.
They had indeed been searching books for Flamel's name ever since Hagrid had let it slip, because how else were they going to find out what Snape was trying to steal?
"We don't need to find out anymore," Harry said, looking at Hermione.
"Yeah, but we still don't know what it does," Hermione said.
"True," Harry said.
The trouble was, it was very hard to know where to begin, not knowing what Flamel might have done to get himself into a book.
"Alchemy," Hermione said.
He wasn't in Great Wizards of the Twentieth Century, or Notable Magical Names of Our Time, he was missing, too, from Important Modern Magical Discoveries and A Study of Recent Developments in Wizardry.
"Ah, there's a bit of your problem," Cedric said. "Your only looking in recent books, and, while that's alright, when you consider how old Dumbledore is, the fact is that you might need to look at books older than yourselves."
And then, of course, there was the sheer size of the library; tens of thousands of books, thousands of shelves; hundred of narrow rows.
Hermione took out a list of subjects and titles she had decided to search while Ron strode off down a row of books and started pulling them off the shelves at random.
"Both are effective for the type of search your doing," Cedric said. "Though, at least with the way Hermione is doing it, she can make sure you don't get the same book twice."
Harry wandered over to the Restricted Section. He had been wondering for a while if Flamel wasn't somewhere in there.
"It's possible," Cedric said. "Unfortunately, you won't be able to get in there without a teacher's note."
Unfortunately, you needed a specially signed note from one of the teachers to look in any of the restricted books, and he knew he'd never get one. These were the books containing powerful Dark Magic never taught at Hogwarts, and only read by older students studying advanced Defense Against the Dark Arts.
"What are you looking for, boy?"
"Nothing," said Harry.
"Not smart if you want to say there. The librarian will chase you out of there," Cedric said.
Madam Pince the librarian brandished a feather duster at him.
Hermione giggled as she imagined that.
"You'd better get out, then. Go on – out!"
Wishing he'd been a bit quicker thinking up some story, Harry left the library. He, Ron, and Hermione had already agreed they'd better not ask Madam Pince where they could find Flamel. They were sure she's be able to tell them, but they couldn't risk Snape hearing what they were up to.
"You could still ask; Snape can't follow you all day, he does have other classes to teach besides yours," Cedric said.
"However, that only counts Snape, and since we're not sure that it's Snape, this way we don't end up risking another teacher overhearing us," Hermione said.
Harry waited outside in the corridor to see if the other two had found anything, but he wasn't very hopeful. They had been looking for two weeks, after all,
Cedric's eyebrow furrowed. If he was right, the first match of the year – Gryffindor vs. Slytherin – happened the second weekend in November, as it usually did, and they were around mid-December now, and if they had been looking ever since Hagrid mentioned him…then they'd been looking for about a month, not two weeks.
but they only had odd moments between lessons it wasn't surprising they'd found nothing. What they really needed was a nice long search without Madam Pince breathing down their necks.
"Very true," Cedric said; Madam Pince could be a bit annoying when you were trying to work. He always thought that someone else should be librarian with how controlling Pince could be.
Five minutes later, Ron and Hermione joined him, shaking their heads. They went off to lunch.
"You will keep looking while I'm away, won't you?" said Hermione. "And send me an owl if you find anything."
"Somehow, I doubt we'll keep looking," Harry said.
"And you could ask your parents if they know who Flamel is," said Ron. "It's be safe to ask them."
"Very safe, as they're both dentists," said Hermione.
"Would they knew the names of alchemists?" Harry asked. Hermione shook her head.
"Maybe," she answered. "They'll know what alchemists look for, but I don't know if my father - who is the one most likely to know - would actually know names. It depends on if Flamel is famous in the Muggle as well as the wizarding one. Of course, it also depends on whether or not I also remember to ask. I might not do so; I mean, I probably think that they probably won't know."
"That's possible," Cedric said. "Since one of the main things that Muggleborns are told is that the magical world is hidden from the Muggle one, you probably think that it mean that it's that we for anything."
"I really should have thought about it. I mean, we do have evidence that it's not true; think of Merlin and Morgan le Fey, after all," Hermione said.
Once the Holidays had started, Ron and Harry were having too good a time to think much about Flamel.
"Nice," Hermione said, shaking her head, though the smile on her face showed that she wasn't serious.
They had the dormitory to themselves and the common room was far emptier than usual, so they were able to get the good armchairs by the fire. They say by the hour eating anything they could spear on a toasting fork – bread, English muffins, marshmallows – and plotting ways of getting Malfoy expelled, which were fun to talk about even if they wouldn't work.
"Actually, if you can do come up with something good, it just might work," Cedric said.
Ron also started teaching Harry wizard chess. This was exactly like Muggle chess except that the figures were alive, which made it a lot like directing troops in battle.
Hermione frowned; she wasn't really good at Muggle chess, and she'd probably be even worse at wizard chess.
Ron's set was very old and battered. Like everything else he owned, it had once belonged to someone else in his family – in this case, his grandfather. However, old chessmen weren't a drawback at all. Ron knew them so well he never had trouble getting them to do what he wanted.
"Meaning that they trust him," Cedric said.
Harry plated with chessmen Seamus Finnigan had lent him, and they didn't trust him at all. He wasn't a very good player yet and they kept shouting different bits of advice at him, which was confusing. "Don't send me there, can't you see his knight? Send him, we can afford to lose him."
"Okay, I am never going to play wizard chess," Hermione said.
On Christmas Eve, Harry went to bed looking forward to the next day for the food and the fun, but not expecting any presents at all.
A frown crossed Hermione's, Luna's, and Cedric's faces, and they all resolved to make sure that Harry got lots of presents this year.
When he woke early in the morning, however, the first thing he saw was a small pole of packages at the foot of his bed.
"Merry Christmas," said Ron sleepily as Harry scrambled out of bed and pulled on his bathrobe.
"You, too," said Harry. "Will you look at this? I've got some presents!"
"What did you expect, turnips?" said Ron, turning to his own pole, which was a lot bigger than Harry's.
"How rude," Hermione huffed.
"Did he forget about the fact that your family treated you wrong and would most likely not give you any presents," una said.
Harry picked up the top parcel. It was wrapped in think brown paper and scrawled across it was To Harry, from Hagrid. Inside was a roughly cut wooden flute. Hagrid had obviously whittled it himself. Harry blew it – it sounded a bit like an owl.
A second, very small parcel contained a note.
We received your message and enclose your Christmas present. From Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia. Taped to the note was a fifty-pence piece.
"That's friendly," said Harry.
Ron was fascinated by the fifty pence.
"He must be channeling his father," Luna said.
"Weird!" he said. "What a shape This is money?"
"You can keep it," said Harry, laughing at how pleased Ron was. "Hagrid and my aunt and uncle – so who sent these?"
"I think I know who that one's from," said Ron, turning a bit pink and pointing to a very lumpy parcel. "My mum. I told her you didn't expect any presents and – oh, no," he groaned, "she made you a Weasley sweater."
"Okay, that doesn't make much sense," Hermione said. "He seems surprised that Harry is surprised about the presents that he has, but he tells his mother that you wouldn't be expecting any. That just doesn't make sense."
"What also doesn't make sense is the fact that I've never heard of Mrs. Weasley giving a sweater outside of her family. I mean, while it is nice of her to give one to you, she usually doesn't do it for any of the others friends," Cedric said.
Harry had torn open the parcel to find a think, hand-knitted sweater in emerald green and a large box of homemade fudge.
"Every year she makes us a sweater," said Ron, unwrapping his own, "and mine's always maroon."
"And yet he asked her to make his maroon," Luna said. "The one time she didn't, he got all whiny."
"That's really nice of her," said Harry trying the fudge, which was very tasty.
"Of course," Mrs. Weasley is a fantastic cook," said Luna.
His next present also contained candy – a large box of Chocolate Frogs from Hermione.
"Thanks, Hermione," he said.
"Welcome," Hermione answered.
This only left one parcel. Harry picked it up and felt it. It was very light. He unwrapped it.
Something fluid and silvery fray went slithering to the floor where it lay in gleaming folds. Ron gasped.
"I've heard of those," he said in a hushed voice, dropping the box of Every Flavor Beans he'd gotten from Hermione. "If that's what I think it is – they're really rare, and really valuable."
"What is it?"
Harry picked the shining, silvery cloth off the floor. It was strange to the touch, like water woven into material.
"It's an invisibility cloak,"
"Somebody got you an invisibility cloak," Cedric said in awe.
said Ron, a look of awe on his face. "I'm sure it is – try it on."
Harry threw the cloak around his shoulders and Ron gave a yell.
"It is! Look down!"
Harry looked down at his feet, but they were gone. He dashed to the mirror. Sure enough, his reflection looked back at him, just his head suspended in midair, his body completely invisible.
"Of course. That's kind of what an invisibility cloak does," Cedric said.
He pulled the cloak over his head and his reflection vanished completely.
"There's a note!" said Ron suddenly. "A note fell out of it!"
Harry pulled off the cloak and seized the letter. Written in narrow, loopy writing he had never seen before were the following words:
Your father left this in my possession before he died.
That's weird thought Cedric. Most invisibility cloaks that I've heard of usually lost their ability to make a person invisible after a few year.
Luna, however, looked very interested in this. It sounded like one of the Deathly Hallows. Her father had told her all about them when she had come to the story in The Tales of Beedle the Bard. Could this invisibility cloak be one of the Hallows?
It is time it was returned to you Use it well.
A Very Merry Christmas to you.
There was no signature. Harry stared at the note. Ron was admiring the cloak.
"I'd give anything for one of these," he said "Anything."
"He should rethink that, because there are just some things that are more important that material possessions," Hermione said.
"What's the matter?"
"Nothing," said Harry. He felt very strange. Who had sent the cloak? Had it really once belonged to his father?
"Somehow, I don't think the person would lie about that," Hermione said; anyone who would give up something like that cloak wouldn't be that cruel to lie about where it came from. Not unless the cloak was meant to kill him, in which case, he would probably be dead already.
Before he could say or think anything else, the dormitory door was flung open and Fred and George Weasley bounded in. Harry stuffed the cloak quickly out of sight. He didn't feel like sharing it with anyone else yet.
"Too bad you couldn't open it without Ron there," Hermione said.
"You better hope the twins don't to find out about it, otherwise you won't get a moments peace," Cedric warned.
"Yeah, they'd probably want to use it in their pranking," Hermione said.
"True. Something like that would probably help in their pranks quite a bit," Harry said.
"Merry Christmas!"
"Hey, look – Harry's got a Weasley sweater, too!"
Fred and George were wearing blue sweaters, one with a large yellow F on it, the other a G.
"What's the bet that their wearing the wrong sweaters?" Harry said.
"I'm not fool enough to take a sucker bet like that one," Hermione answered.
"Same here," Cedric said.
"There's no point," Luna added.
"Harry's is better than ours, though," said Fred, holding up Harry's sweater. "She obviously makes more of an effort of you're not family."
"There's actually no way to know if that's true or not quite yet, unless you compare it to one of theirs," Cedric said.
"Why aren't you wearing yours, Ron?" George demanded. "Come on, get it on, they're love and warm."
"I hate maroon," Ron moaned halfheartedly as he pulled it over his head.
"You haven't got a letter on yours," George observed.
"Now that's not really all that strange. Mrs. Weasley usually only puts a letter on Fred and George's, as her way of telling them apart," Luna said. "Of course, it doesn't work out too well."
"I suppose she thinks you don't forget your name. But we're not stupid – we know we're called Gred and Forge."
They snorted at the twins' humor.
"What's all this noise?"
Percy Weasley stuck his head through the door, looking disapproving, He had clearly gotten halfway through unwrapping his presents as he, too, carried a lumpy sweater over his arm, which Fred seized.
"P for prefect!"
"Are they sure it's for 'prefect'?" Hermione asked. "I mean, his name is 'Percy' which does start with a 'P'."
"Well, considering that Luna says that she usually doesn't, it makes sense that she wouldn't do that," Harry said.
"Get it on, Percy, come on, we're all wearing ours, even Harry got one."
"I – don't – want –" said Percy thickly, as the twins forced the sweater over his head, knocking his glasses askew.
"And you're not sitting with the prefects today, either," said George. "Christmas is a time for family."
They frog marched Percy from the room, his arms pinned to his side by his sweater.
"How nice," Luna said.
Harry had never in all his life had such a Christmas dinner. A hundred fat, roast turkeys, mountains of roast and boiled potatoes; platters of chipolatas; tureens of buttered peas, silver boats of think, rich gravy and cranberry sauce –
"Now I'm starting to get hungry," Harry said, looking as if he was about to start drooling at any moment. "When are we going to eat dinner?"
"How about we do one more chapter after this one, and then eat?" Hermione said. There was agreement to this from the other two, and though Harry wished to eat now, he knew that part of his wanting to eat was mostly due to hearing about so much good food, and not actual hunger.
and stacks of wizard crackers every few feet along the table. These fantastic party favors were nothing like the feeble Muggle ones the Dursleys usually bought, with their little plastic toys and their flimsy paper hats inside. Harry pulled a wizard cracker with Fred and it didn't just bang, it went off with a blast like a cannon and engulfed them all in a cloud of blue smoke, while from the inside exploded a rear admiral's hat and several live, white mice.
"Why do I get the feeling that the mice are going to become Mrs. Norris's dinner," Harry said.
Up at the High Table, Dumbledore had swapped his pointed wizard's hat for a flowered bonnet,
Hermione shook her head at Dumbledore's actions.
and was chuckling merrily at a joke Professor Flitwick had just read.
Flaming Christmas puddings followed the turkey. Percy nearly broke his teeth on a silver sickle embedded in his slice. Harry watched Hagrid getting redder and redder in the face as he called for more wine, finally kissing Professor McGonagall on the cheek, who, to Harry's amazement, giggled and blushed, her top hat lopsided.
"She must be slightly drunk as well," Cedric said.
When Harry finally left the table, he was laden down with a stack of things out of the crackers, including a pack of non-explodable, luminous balloons, a Grow-Your-Own-Warts kit,
"Why would you want warts?" Hermione asked.
and his own new wizard chess set. The white mice had disappeared and Harry had a nasty feeling they were going to end up as Mrs. Norris's Christmas dinner.
"You don't need to repeat yourself, Harry," Hermione said, amusement in her voice as he mock glared at her.
Harry and the Weasleys spent a happy afternoon having a furious snowball fight on the grounds. Then, cold, we, and gasping for breath, they returned to the fire in the Gryffindor common room, where Harry broke in his new chess set by losing spectacularly to Ron.
"What a way to break in a chess set," Cedric said.
He suspected he wouldn't have lost so badly if Percy hadn't tried to help him so much.
"That's true, Percy is just as bad at chess as you seem to be," Luna said. "Of course, Ron's the only one who's really good at chess in the Weasley family."
After a meal of turkey sandwiches, crumpets, trifle, and Christmas cake, everyone felt too full and sleepy to do much before bed except sit and watch Percy chase Fred and George all over Gryffindor tower because they'd stolen his prefect badge.
Some laughter at that.
It had been Harry's best Christmas day ever. Yet something had been nagging at the back of his mind all day. Not until he climbed into bed was he free to think about it: the invisibility cloak and whoever had sent it.
"Yeah, I can understand that being on your mind all day," Hermione said.
Ron, full of turkey and cake and with nothing mysterious to bother him, fell asleep almost as soon as he'd drawn the curtains of his four-poster. Harry leaned over the side of his own bed and pulled the cloak out from under it.
"You should treat the cloak better than that," Luna scolded. Harry had a surprised look on his face from the scolding.
His father's…this had been his father's. He let the material flow over his hands, smoother than silk, light as air.
Harry really wished he could have the cloak right then and there.
He had to try it, now. He slipped out of bed and wrapped the cloak around himself. Looking down at his legs, he saw only moonlight and shadows. It was a very funny feeling.
"Sounds like it, to feel your body, but not see them," Hermione said.
Use it well.
"Your going to be sneaking around after curfew, aren't you?" Hermione asked. He shrugged, though he had the feeling that he was going to.
"Where do you think you'll go first?" Luna asked.
"I don't know," Harry said.
"Well, considering that you were wishing to go to the Restricted Section in the library earlier in the chapter, I have the feeling that, that's where you're going," Cedric said.
Suddenly, Harry felt wide-awake. The whole of Hogwarts was open to him in this cloak. Excitement flooded through him as he stood there in the dark and silence. He could go anywhere in this, anywhere, and Filch would never know.
"Ah, to have that freedom," Cedric said wistfully.
Ron grunted in his sleep. Should Harry wake him? Something held him back – his father's cloak – he felt that this time – the first time – he wanted to use it alone.
"Understandable," said Hermione.
He crept out of the dormitory, down the stairs, across the common room, and climbed through the portrait hole.
"Who's there?" squawked the Fat Lady.
"Might want to make a system where you don't have any awkward moments with her," Cedric said.
Harry said nothing.
"Smart, as to say something just might startle her," said Luna.
He walked quickly down the corridor.
Where should he go? He stopped, his heart racing, and thought. And then it came to him. The Restricted Section in the library.
"Knew it," Cedric said.
He'd be able to read as long as he liked, as long as it took to find out who Flamel was. He set off, drawing the invisibility cloak tight around him as he walked.
The library was pitch-black and very eerie. Harry lit a lamp to see his way along the rows of books. The lamp looked as if it was floating along in midair, and even though Harry could feel his arm supporting it, the sight gave him the creeps.
"Sounds like it," Hermione said.
The Restricted Section was right at the back of the library. Stepping carefully over the rope
"There's only a rope separating these books from the others. How is that no one else has ever managed to get in and take a book from there, then?" Hermione asked.
"Just because there is only a rope outwardly doesn't mean that there isn't something else to keep people from going there without permission," Cedric said
that separated these books from the rest of the library, he held up his lamp to read the titles.
They didn't tell him much. Their peeling, faded gold letters spelled words in languages Harry couldn't understand. Some had no title at all. One book had a dark stain on it that looked horribly like blood. The hairs on the back of Harry's neck prickled. Maybe he was imagining it, maybe not, but he thought a faint whispering was coming from the books, as though they knew someone was there who shouldn't be.
"And that is just one of the protections," Cedric said. His friend had foolishly thought he could just go there without permission, and found out the hard way that it wasn't possible.
He had to start somewhere. Setting the lamp down carefully on the floor, he looked along the bottom shelf for an interesting-looking book. A large black and silver volume caught his eye. He pulled it out with difficulty, because it was very heavy, and balancing it on his knee, let if fall open.
A piercing, bloodcurdling shriek split the silence – the book was screaming!
"And there's the other," Cedric said. "More often than not, Madam Pince will get you the book you need, or, if you are allowed unfetted access, she changes whatever charms and wards are there by keying you into them…for a set amount of time, of course. She does that each day you're allowed in there. At least, that's what one of the older years told me."
"What would happen if Harry hadn't opened the book there, but brought it out?" Hermione asked.
"I don't know, because I've never seen anyone do that. I would expect, though, that there is a charm to keep that from happening as well," Cedric answered.
Harry snapped it shut, but the shriek went on and on, one high, unbroken, earsplitting note.
"I suggest you get out of there as soon as possible," Cedric said.
He stumbled backward and knocked over his lamp, which went out at once. Panicking, he heard footsteps coming down the corridor outside – stuffing the shrieking book back on the shelf, he ran for it.
"Try not to make any noise," said Hermione.
He passed Filch in the doorway; Filch's pale, wild eyes looked straight through him, and Harry slipped under Filch's outstretched arm and streaked off up the corridor, the book's shrieks still ringing in his ears.
He came to a sudden halt in front of a tall suit of armor. He had been so busy getting away from the library, he hadn't paid attention to where he was going. Perhaps because it was dark, he didn't recognize where he was at all. There was a suit of armor near the kitchens, he knew, but he must be five floors above there.
"How do you know that, especially since you don't know where the kitchens are, as far as I know?" Hermione asked.
"And you can't say that someone pointed it out to you, because the kitchen's are rather close to the Hufflepuff common room," Cedric said, "and there is no suit of armor near there."
"You asked me to come directly to you, Professor, if anyone was wandering around at night, and somebody's been in the library – Restricted Section."
"Oh no," Hermione said.
"Mate, you have got the worse luck," Cedric said, having a feeling that he knew which Professor it was – there was only one Professor that Filch was on a good term with…
Harry felt the blood drain out of his face. Wherever he was, Filch must know a shortcut, because his soft, greasy voice was getting nearer, and to his horror, it was Snape who replied, "The Restricted Section? Well, they cant' be far, we'll catch them."
"Oh, dear," Hermione said. "You better hope you find a hiding place soon."
Harry stood rooted to the spot as Filch and Snape came around the corner ahead. Hey couldn't see him, of course, but it was a narrow corridor and if they came much nearer they'd knock right into him – the cloak didn't stop him from being solid.
"Of course not, because that would be too convenient," Harry said.
He backed away as quietly as he could. A door stood ajar to his left. It was his only hope. He squeezed through it, holding his breath, trying not to move it, and to his relief he managed to get inside the room without their noticing anything.
"I wonder exactly how open said door was," Hermione said.
"Probably just enough for Harry to get through it," Cedric said.
They walked straight past, and Harry leaned against the wall, breathing deeply, listening to their footsteps dying away. That had been close, very close. It was a few seconds before he noticed anything about the room he had hidden in.
It looked like an unused classroom.
"There are a lot of those in the castle," Cedric said.
The dark shapes of desks and chairs were piled against the walls, and there was an upturned wastepaper basket – but propped against the wall facing him was something that didn't look as if it belonged there, something that looked as if someone had just put it there to keep it out of the way.
"What?" Hermione said, looking interested.
It was a magnificent mirror, as high as the ceiling, with an ornate gold frame, standing on two clawed feet. There was an inscription carved around the top: Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on woshi.
"Okay, what does that mean?" Harry said. Hermione began to try and figure it out.
His panic fading now that there was no sound of Filch and Snape, Harry moved nearer to the mirror, wanting to look at himself but see no reflection again.
"Silly," Hermione said, but she was worried. Somehow, she thought that the mirror wasn't going to be like other mirrors, especially since she knew that the first word was 'desire' backwards, mostly because of the fact that it was from the being used in the title.
He stepped in front of it.
He had to clap his hands to his mouth to stop himself from screaming. He whirled around. His heart was pounding far more furiously than when the book had screamed – for he had seen not only himself in the mirror, but a whole crowd of people standing right behind him.
"What?" Harry asked, looking confused. Hermione was still working on the inscription, though, she was also trying to pay attention to the book as well, which was making it rather interesting. She wished she had some paper and a pen so that she could write it down.
But the room was empty. Breathing very fast, he turned slowly back to the mirror.
There hr was, reflected in it, white and scared-looking, and there, reflected behind him, were at least ten other. Harry looked over his shoulder – but still, no one was there. Or were they all invisible, too? Was he in fact in a room full of invisible people and this mirror's trick was that it reflected them, invisible or not?
"You most likely would have bumped into someone if they were all invisible," Cedric said.
He looked in the mirror again. A woman standing right behind his reflection was smiling at him and waving. He reached out a hand and felt the air behind him. If she was really there, he'd touch her, their reflections were so close together, but he felt only air – she and the others existed only in the mirror.
Hermione was soaking up the little bit of information she was being given, but not knowing what the inscription was, was driving her insane.
"Harry, can I see the book for a minute," she said. Taking it from him without his permission, she turned back to the page where it was written, looking at memorizing it in her mind before handing the book back. Turning it around in her head, she realized that it still make much sense, since it became ishow no tyo urfac ebu tyo urhe arts desire. Then, thinking, she separated some of them, and put others together.
She was a very pretty woman. She had dark red hair and her eyes – her eyes are just like mine, Harry thought, edging a little closer to the glass. Bright green – exactly the same shape, but then he noticed that she was crying, smiling, but crying at the same time. The tall, thin, black-haired man standing next to her put his arm around her. He wore glasses, and his hair was very untidy. It stuck up at the back, just as Harry's did.
Harry was so close to the mirror now that his nose was nearly touching that if his reflection.
"Mom?" he whispered. "Dad?"
Hermione gasped, both from what the book said the mirror was showing and the fact that she had just figured out what the inscription was.
"I show not your face but your hearts desire," she whispered.
"What?" Harry asked, distracted.
"What the inscription on the mirror said. It was backwards, and had words separated from each other, but when you turn it around, and put certain letters together, you get 'I show not your face but your hearts desire'. That's what the mirror is showing you; your hearts desire," Hermione said. "And I get the feeling that it's not a good thing, either."
They just looked at him, smiling. And slowly, Harry looked into the faces of the other people in the mirror, and saw other pairs of green eyes like his, other noses like his, even a little old man who looked as though he had Harry's knobbly knees – Harry was looking at his family, for the first time in his life.
Harry's eyes filled with tears.
The Potters smiled and waved at Harry and he stared hungrily back at them, his hands pressed flat against the glass as though he was hoping to fall right through it and reach them. He had a powerful kind of ache inside him, half joy, half terrible sadness.
How long he stood there, he didn't know. The reflections did not fade and he looked and looked until a distant noise brought him back to his senses.
"I don't think that mirror's good for you," Hermione said gently. She would demand that he not go back, and say that it's dangerous and things like that, but she could understand his want; if she was in his place, she knew that she would want to stay in front of the mirror forever as well.
He couldn't stay here, he had to find his way back to bed. He tore his eyes away from his mother's face, whispered, "I'll be back," and hurried from the room.
"I know I should say don't go back, but I won't," Hermione said.
"You could have woken me up," said Ron, crossly.
"You can come tonight, I'm going back, I want to show you the mirror."
"I'd like to see your mom and dad," Ron said eagerly.
"And I want to see all your family, all the Weasleys, you'll be able to show me your other brothers and everyone."
"It won't work, since I have the feeling that Ron's desire is very different," Cedric said.
"You can see them any old time," said Ron. "Just come round my house this summer. Anyway, maybe it only shows dead people."
"Tackless," Hermione sighed.
"Shame about not finding Flamel, though. Have some bacon or something, way aren't you eating anything?"
Hermione looked worried as she looked at Harry.
Harry couldn't eat. He had seen his parents and would be seeing them again tonight. He had almost forgotten about Flamel. It didn't seem very important anymore. Who cared about what the three-headed dog was guarding? What did it matter if Snape stole it, really?
"Harry…" Hermione said. He didn't look at her.
"Are you all right?" said Ron. "You look odd."
Cedric shook his head. How could Ron not realize what was up with Harry?
What Harry feared most was that he might not be able to find the mirror again. With Ron covered in the cloak, too, they had to walk much more slowly the next night. They tried retracing Harry's route from the library, wandering around the dark passageways for nearly an hour.
"Harry, next time, at least memorize where your going," Hermione chided gently.
"I'm freezing," said Ron. "Let's forget it and go back."
"No!" Harry hissed. "I know it's here somewhere."
They passed the ghost of a tall witch gliding in the opposite direction, but saw no one else. Just as Ron started moaning that his feet were dead with cold, Harry spotted the suit of armor.
"Nice, you see a suit of armor, which are, apparently, all over the place, and you know you've found what your looking for," Hermione said, gently shaking her head.
"It's here – just here – yes!"
They pushed the door open. Harry dropped the cloak around his shoulders and ran to the mirror.
There they were. His mother and father beamed at the sight of him.
"See?" Harry whispered.
"I can't see anything."
"Because it's not his hearts desire," Hermione said.
"Look! Look at them all…there are loads of them…"
"I can only see you."
"The mirror must only work for one person at a time," Cedric realized.
"Look in it properly, go on, stand where I am."
Harry stepped aside, but with Ron in front of the mirror, he couldn't see his family anymore, just Ron in his paisley pajamas.
Ron, though, was staring transfixed at his image.
"I wonder what he sees," Hermione said.
"Look at me!" he said.
"Can you see all you family standing around you?"
"No – I'm along – but I'm different – I look older – and I'm head boy!"
"What?"
"I am – I'm wearing the badge like Bill use to – and I'm holding the house cop and the Quidditch cup – I'm Quidditch captain, too!"
"He sees himself as head boy and Quidditch captain…" Cedric said, trying to figure out how that was his hearts desire.
"He wants to be the best of his brothers," Luna said. "He sees himself the best of them all in what seems to be the only way he can, or, at least, knows; in school."
Ron tore his eyes away from this splendid sight to look excitedly at Harry.
"Do you think this mirror shows the future?"
"Again, tackless," Hermione said.
"How can it? All my family are dead – let me have another look –"
"You had it to yourself all last night, give me a bit more time."
"You're only holding the Quidditch cup, what's interesting about that? I want to see my parents."
"Don't push me –"
"The mirror's causing you to fight," Luna said.
A sudden noise outside in the corridor put an end to their discussion. They hadn't realized how loudly they had been talking.
"Quick!"
Ron threw the cloak back over them as the luminous eyes of Mrs. Norris came round the door. Ron and Harry stood quite still, both thinking the same thing – did the cloak work on cats?
"Most likely. However, as a cat, she's got a better sense of smell than humans," said Cedric.
After what seemed an age, she turned and left.
"This isn't safe – she might have gone for Filch, I bet she heard us. Come on."
And Ron pulled Harry out of the room.
"At least he took you with him," Hermione said; it seemed that the mirror was even worse than she had originally thought, especially if it cause Harry to fight with his friends.
The snow still hadn't melted the next morning.
"Want to play chess, Harry?" said Ron.
"No."
"Why don't we go down and visit Hagrid?"
"No…you go…"
"And that, right there, will alert him to the fact that there is something wrong," Cedric said.
"I know what you're thinking about, Harry, that mirror. Don't go back tonight."
"Why not?"
"I dunno, I've just got a bad feeling about it – and, anyway, you've had too many close shaves already. Filch, Snape, and Mrs. Norris are wandering around. So what if they can't see you? What if they walk into you? What if you knock something over?"
"You sound like Hermione."
"And that's a bad thing," Hermione said, eyebrow raised.
"No," Harry said. "I just…I guess I want to know my parents."
"Which is the only reason why I'm not getting on your case," Hermione said. "I can understand wanting to know your you family, especially when you think of the family you do know. However, I am a little worried about you on it; you seem to be forgetting everything else.. Also, it does no good to simply sit there in front of the mirror. Your on the way of wasting away if you continue on this vein that your on in the book. And, forgive me for saying this, I don't think that would make your parents happy to hear."
"I'm serious, Harry, don't go."
But Harry only had one thought in his head, which was to get back in front of the mirror, and Ron wasn't going to stop him.
"Somehow, I think either you, Hermione, or someone older would be able to make me stop," said Harry.
"Glad to know you think I have the power to make you do something, especially since it's work so well in the past," Hermione said, a bit sarcastically.
"Well, with what you said earlier, it would definitely make much more of an impact than Ron's 'I'm serious, Harry, don't go'," Harry said. "Plus, knowing you, you'll probably take what you just said earlier, add tears, and…"
"Hey!" Hermione said, reaching over to poke his arm. "I don't cry that easily."
Harry just smiled, noting that she hadn't mentioned that she didn't fake cry to get what she wanted. Still, at least talking to her had gotten his mind out of the sorrow he'd been trying not to think to much about from what the mirror showed him.
That third night he found his way more quickly than before. He was walking so fast he knew he was making more noise than we wise, but he didn't meet anyone.
"So, either you got lucky, or someone's setting up a trap on you," Cedric said
And there were his mother and father smiling at him again, and one of his grandfathers nodding happily. Harry sank down to sit on the floor in front of the mirror. There was nothing to stop him from staying here all night with his family. Nothing at all.
"Except…" Hermione said.
Except –
"No need to repeat me," Hermione said.
"So – back again, Harry?"
"Oh no," Hermione said. "Your going to get into trouble…"
Harry felt as though his insides had turned to ice. He looked behind him. Sitting on one of the desks by the wall was none other than Albus Dumbledore.
"Oh. It's okay; you're safe," Cedric said. The others looked at him, so he felt the need to explain. "Dumbledore is the one professor who won't punish you; he's all about chances, and I do know that he enjoys pranks and jokes as the most of the students do. Plus, with how old he is, I have the feeling that might understand the power of the mirror, and won't begrudge you for going to it."
Harry must have walked straight past him, so desperate to get to the mirror he hadn't noticed him.
"I – I didn't see you, sir."
"Strange how nearsighted being invisible can make you," said Dumbledore, and Harry was relieved to see that he was smiling.
"So," said Dumbledore, slipping off the desk to sit on the floor with Harry,
"And I think this just shows why so many people like and look up to him; he doesn't treat you completely like a child, but closer to an equal," Cedric said. "He doesn't do it all the time, of course, but enough."
"you, like hundred before you, have discovered the delights of the Mirror of Erised."
"I'm not sure I would call it 'delights'," Hermione muttered.
"I didn't know it was called that, sir."
"But I expect you've realized by now what it does?"
"Yes," they all said, mostly thanks to Hermione's skill of figuring out what he inscription at the top had said.
"It – well – it shows me my family –"
"And it showed your friend Ron himself as head boy."
"How did you know -?"
"I don't need a cloak to become invisible," said Dumbledore gently.
"That is true; there is are some spells that can help you become invisible," Cedric said.
"Now, can you think what the Mirror of Erised shows us all?"
Harry shook his head.
"Let me explain. The happiest man on earth would be able to use the Mirror of Erised like a normal mirror, that is, he would look into it and see himself exactly as he is. Does that help?"
"If I didn't already know, yeah, that would help me," Harry said.
"Yeah, it is a pretty good clue to give," Hermione said.
Harry thought. Then he said slowly, "It shows up what we want…whatever we want…"
"That is very close to what it does," Hermione said.
"Hey, what would you guys see in the mirror?" Harry asked. The other three thought about it, but it was Hermione who answered.
"Honestly, we could either lie about it, or not tell you, but I don't think any of us could honestly say what our heart's true desires are without actually looking into the mirror," she said. The other two nodded.
Harry turned back to the book. He wasn't upset that he didn't get an answer; it, after all, had been a bit of a personal question. And Hermione was right; just because you think you know what your heart's desire was doesn't make it true.
"Yes and no," said Dumbledore quietly. "It shows us nothing more or less than the deepest, most desperate desire of our hearts. You, who have never known your family, see them standing around you. Ronald Weasley, who has always been overshadowed by his brothers, sees himself standing alone, the best of all of them."
"Looks like you were right, Luna," Harry said.
"However, this mirror will give us neither knowledge or truth. Men have wasted away before it, entranced by what they have seen, or been driven mad, not knowing if what it shows is real or even possible."
"And that's what you were about to do," Hermione said. Harry studiously kept his head down, making sure not to allow his eyes connect with Hermione's.
"The Mirror will be moved to a new home tomorrow, Harry, and I ask you not to go looking for it again. If you ever do run across it, you will now be prepared."
"It almost sounds as if he expects you to run across it again," Luna said.
"I certainly hope that he won't," Hermione said.
"It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live, remember that."
"True," Cedric said.
"Now, why don't you put that admirable cloak back on and get off to bed?"
Harry stood up.
"Sir – Professor Dumbledore? Can I ask you something?"
"You just did," Hermione said.
"Obviously, you've just done so," Dumbledore smiled. "You may ask me one more thing, however."
"What do you see when you look in the mirror?"
"Now, I've got to wonder if he'll be truthful, tell you what I said, or if he'll lie," Hermione said.
"I? I see myself holding a pair of thick, woolen socks."
The four stared at the book, then Hermione sighed.
"Somehow, I don't think that's the truth," Hermione said, leaving out the implied fact that he had lied to Harry.
Harry stared.
"One can never have enough socks," said Dumbledore.
"Perhaps, while not being truthful, he's still being honest," Harry said.
"Another Christmas has come and gone and I didn't get a single pair. People will insist on giving me books."
"Well, I think we know what to get him this year," Hermione said. The others nodded.
It was only when he was back in bed that it struck Harry that Dumbledore might no have been quite truthful. But then, he thought, as he shoved Scabbers off his pillow, it had been quite a personal question.
"That's very true," Hermione muttered.
"That's the end of the chapter," Harry said. "Are we still going to read another chapter, or can we take a break and eat?"
His stomach growled at this, followed by three other stomachs.
"I guess we can eat now," Hermione said. Harry grabbed the paper they'd used as a book mark earlier, and placed it into the book before setting it down on the table.
They walked into the kitchen, looking around for something simple to make; they'd prepare something better tomorrow. They finally made some grilled cheese sandwiches, placing a handful of potato chips onto their plates as well.
"I think, tomorrow, we'll have to at least plan something to eat at lunch so that we won't have to spend much time making it…or, at least, we can have someone come here and start it before we decide to eat," Cedric said.
"I could make dinner in the morning, and then we can just reheat it at dinnertime," Harry said.
"We'll do that, all of us," Hermione said, as they ate. The other two agreed to that, though Cedric looked a little worried – he didn't know how to cook.
They finished rather quickly, eating some premade jell-o for dessert. Then they headed back into the living room.
Hermione picked up the book, and turned to the bookmarked page.