"Nothing."
"Really? You were in there kind of a long time." Harry had no idea at all how long Ron had been in the room, but he made an educated guess, based on not having seen much of the other boy since Christmas.
Weasley's face reddened, almost as bright as his hair. "It's none of your business what I do, Slytherin Sneak!"
Harry held up his hands, thinking of mentioning something about kettles and pots, but refrained. "Sorry, I was just asking. Thought you might like to share adventures."
The other boy's eyes narrowed, as if Harry were taking the piss, but then he shrugged in turn. "I guess. Have you found anything?"
Harry nodded eagerly. "I found a moaning ghost on the second floor called Myrtle, and the door to the kitchens, too." Draco had showed him that, of course, but he figured, from the way Weasley put away food, he might enjoy a bit of information like that.
As he'd thought, Weasley perked right up, grinning back at him. "Yeah? Where is it?"
"When you're facing the marble staircase in the Entrance Hall, take the right hand stairs, like you're going to the Puffies' common room, and then when you come to a picture of a big bowl of fruit, you tickle the pear and the door opens. The Hogwarts House Elves are really great -- they'll give you all kinds of food." He'd gone to see them a few times this week, in fact -- exploring made him extra hungry -- and they always loaded him down with treats.
"Brilliant!"
Harry grinned. "Yeah." Then he gestured again at the door behind him, and asked hesitantly, "So, what's in there?"
"You'll never believe it," Weasley said. "I'm not sure I do, myself."
"Yeah? Show me."
"All right, come on. It's brilliant, really," he said easily as he led Harry to the door. "I wanted to show someone, actually, but Fred'n George don't give a toss about the future, so they don't even care about what I found."
"What is it?" Harry asked again, getting excited. Something that showed the future? Could he see himself defeating Voldemort?
"It's a big mirror, but it doesn't just show your reflection." They entered the room, a dusty and gloomy affair, which looked like an unused classroom. 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 the two of them 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. 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 wohsi.
What the heck? Harry went closer to the mirror, but dared not look into the face, not yet. "It shows you the future?" he asked quietly.
"It must do," Weasley answered. "I saw myself in it, when I looked, but I was Quidditch Captain, and Head Boy, too. I had the House Cup in my hands."
"Wow."
"Yeah."
Drawing up his courage, Harry went to stand in front of the mirror. At once, he gasped and spun around to see behind him, but only Ron was there, still. But in the mirror . . . he slowly turned around to see a whole crowd standing behind him just like before. At least ten others. Harry looked over his shoulder -- but still, no one was there. Or were they all invisible, under cloaks like his? Was he in fact in a room full of invisible people and this mirror's trick was that it reflected them, invisible or not?
"What do you see?" Weasley asked.
"I'm, uh, I'm not sure," Harry 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.
Though she was a bit older than in Snape's photos, there was no mistaking Lily Potter. His mother. She had dark red hair and green eyes just like Harry's. He edged a little closer to the glass, and then he noticed that she was crying; smiling, but crying at the same time, and she knew Harry was there. 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. His father!
Harry was so close to the mirror now that his nose was nearly touching that of his reflection. "Mum?" he whispered. "Dad?"
They looked at him, smiling. Really looked at him, not just pretend, like in the photos. 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 whole family, for the first time in his life.
The Potters and maybe some Evanses, too, 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.
"What is it, Harry?" Ron asked again, but very softly. Even so, Harry flinched at the unexpected sound. "You said 'Mum and Dad'. You can see them in there, can't you. But aren't they. . . ?"
"Yeah," Harry said, feeling choked. "They're dead."
"So . . ."
"The mirror can't be showing the future, Ron."
"No," Ron agreed after a long moment. "What do you think . . .?"
Harry could not drag his gaze away from his parents, from the rest of his family. He swallowed hard and made himself answer anyway, knowing he had to, knowing that once he left this mirror, he would never return. "Maybe it just shows what you really, really want, more than anything. Even if you can never have it."
A moment later, another person joined the crowd near Harry, and he could never mistake Severus Snape for anyone else. His Mum and Dad greeted Snape, and shook his hand, and as his Mum and Dad both put a hand on Harry's shoulder, the Potions Professor gazed down at him with a smile, then ruffled the hair on his head, and it was so real he almost felt it. It was as if they were all there with him, as if they were all his family, even Snape, and he felt so warm and sad and happy all at once he thought he might burst.
"Yeah," Ron said, sounding sad. "I guess you're right."
TBC . . .
A/N: Thanks to everyone who reads and/or reviews!
Some of the descriptions in this chapter are lifted whole cloth from JKR's The Sorcerer's Stone, Chapter 12, "The Mirror of Erised," and neither they nor the setting, nor the characters in this story belong to me. But then, you knew that already, yes? :-D
*Chapter 44*: Chapter 44
Better Be Slytherin! – Chapter 44
By jharad17
--HPHPHPHPHPHPHP--
Previously on Better Be Slytherin:
"Maybe it just shows what you really, really want, more than anything. Even if you can never have it."
A moment later, another person joined the crowd near Harry, and he could never mistake Severus Snape for anyone else. His Mum and Dad greeted Snape, and shook his hand, and as his Mum and Dad both put a hand on Harry's shoulder, the Potions Professor gazed down at him with a smile, then ruffled the hair on his head, and it was so real he almost felt it. It was as if they were all there with him, as if they were all his family, even Snape, and he felt so warm and sad and happy all at once he thought he might burst.
"Yeah," Ron said, sounding sad. "I guess you're right."
--HPSSHPSSHPSS--
Severus Snape spent his Christmas Break that year in a way completely unlike any other year since he began teaching, ten years ago. That is, he socialized. He spent a lively afternoon or two with Minerva, ostensibly going over ways they could improve OWL scores in their subjects, but in fact regaling each other with the best pranks they had seen and been caught by, the past ten years, as well as past students who had gone on to make names for themselves. On several afternoons, he joined Filius Flitwick in a cuppa, to discuss the possibility of forming a Dueling Club. They decided to give it a try next year. Finally, one night he even stayed up late with Dumbledore, discussing matters other than the Worst Dark Wizard Ever, topics such as how they were enjoying the holiday, memories of holidays past, and familial topics.