"What do you see, professor?" The raven-haired boy looked up at his headmaster expectantly. "What do you see in the mirror?"

Albus Dumbledore looked down at the boy and then back at the Mirror of Erised. He smiled wistfully and spoke.

"I see myself holding a pair of thick, woolen socks," he said. It was not exactly a lie. He was holding a pair of socks in the mirror. It was just not the whole truth. He saw more than himself with wool socks. He saw love. He saw life. He saw joy…

The Albus in the mirror stood by a basket of fresh laundry folding a pair of thick wooly socks. Gellert Grindlewald placed his hand on Albus' shoulder. Three young children walked over and the smallest tugged on the sleeve of his adoptive father's robe. Albus' siblings soon joined the family portrait along with his parents. Everyone was smiling and healthy. Gellert placed a soft kiss on Albus' cheek.

Suddenly, Albus was brought back to his senses by an inquisitive little sound from young Potter's throat. "One can never have too many socks," the old man said. After Harry left, Albus took one last forlorn look at the dreamlike image in the mirror and sighed deeply. "Farewell, my dearest," he whispered and turned away from his hopeless fantasy.