As they entered November, the weather turned very cold. The mountains around the school became icy gray and the lake like chilled steel. Every morning the ground was covered in frost. Hagrid could be seen defrosting broomsticks on the Quidditch field, bundled up in a long moleskin overcoat, rabbit fur gloves, and enormous beaverskin boots.

The Quidditch season had begun. On Saturday, the first match: Gryffindor versus Slytherin. If Slytherin won, they would move up into first place in the house championship. Every year for the last decade Slytherin had one the house cup, this year would be no different.

Tensions were high from the start of the day, with Harry and his friends getting into the Quidditch spirit, their green and white scarves wrapped around their necks as they waited excitingly for the match.

Most of the first years have kept out of trouble as they were busy with massive loads of homework and exams given. Harry had almost been living in the library since Halloween scrambling to get his work finished.

Harry was a smart boy that worked hard on every assignment, striving for perfection. In all of his classes he had received perfect scores even outshining the likes of Hermione Granger. Potions class, Harry put the most work in trying to figure out if his head of house's disinterest in him was Snape's way of hating him. He had never had a conversation with the man as every time he'd try the potions professor would walk away muttering about being too busy. Even so Harry strived nevertheless.

Harry, Blaise, and Theodore walked toward the Quidditch pitch through the snow of the school grounds.

"Can't we just go to the library" Theo groaned as they took the long way around. Blaise gave him an annoyed look, "The first match of the season and you want to STUDY" he exclaimed in an exasperated tone.

"We have an exam Monday" Theo muttered irritated, "I thought you loved Quidditch" Harry asked with a raised eyebrow.

"I do but what I love more is getting a good grade in Transfiguration" Theo explained, going on "McGonagall said if I don't keep up my score, I might receive an E (exceeds expectations) instead of an O (outstanding)".

Harry nodded in understanding but Blaise rolled his eyes, "You worry too much mate" Blaise said but before continuing they all froze.

They heard laughter, but not just any laughter, it was familiar.

The boys noticed Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle,were laughing and pointing and in the distance as Harry squinted he saw a Hufflepuff student in the same year as him.

Justin Finch-Fletchley to be exact, he had curly red hair, pale white skin and freckles, with quite large bushy brown eyebrows, and had somewhat large front teeth. To Harry he looked quite posh. The young Hufflepuff was throwing up slugs to Draco and his goons enjoyment.

Harry had no problems with the Muggle-born boy, as he looked at Blaise and Theo. Ever since the broom incident they kept their distance from Draco Malfoy, they wouldn't get in his way and he wouldn't get in theirs. The other boys tried to look disinterested.

Draco had turned him into a bully, a cruel one at that, something Harry never wanted to be.

Cut out of his thoughts was Theo and Blaise grabbing him away, "Hey" Harry yelled annoyed. Blaise put an arm around his shoulder, "Lets go get a good seat at the match mate" he said steering him away from their housemates.

Walking away he noticed Daphne oddly walking alone toward the match, his earlier run in with Draco forgotten. "Go walk with her" Blaise elbowed, Harry rolled his eyes and shook his head, "Are you scared" Theo asked smiling, Harry looked at them annoyed, "No, not at all" Harry replied watching Daphne get farther away.

They laughed at him "Didn't know Potter was scared to talk to girls" Blaise said to Theo who nodded in agreement, Harry groaned before gaining a bit of confidence and smirked.

"Watch and learn boys" Harry said swaggering toward the Greengrass girl, making his friends snort.

"Hey Daphne" he said catching up to her, "Potter" she said smiling ever so slightly.

"Do you mind if I walk with you to the match" he asked politely, she teasingly put her finger on her chin looking deep in thought, "Maybe" she said as they continued walking toward the Pitch.

"Have you ever played Quidditch" she asked curiously, Harry shook his head, "I haven't gotten the chance yet", he replied at they took their seats by the pitch.

Madam Hooch was refereeing. She stood in the middle of the field waiting for the two teams, her broom in her hand.

"Now, I want a nice fair game, all of you," she said, once they were all gathered around her. Harry noticed from a far that she seemed to be speaking particularly to the Slytherin Captain, Marcus Flint, a sixth year.

"Mount your brooms, please. " she stated as each team red versus green did as they were told.

Madam Hooch gave a loud blast on her silver whistle.

Fifteen brooms rose up, high, high into the air. They were off.

"And the Quaffle is taken immediately by Angelina Johnson of Gryffindor - what an excellent Chaser that girl is, and rather attractive, too-"

"JORDAN!"

"Sorry, Professor. "

Harry couldn't help but laugh, Lee Jordan was a funny guy. Daphne rolled his eyes at him with a smile.

"And she's really belting along up there, a neat pass to Alicia Spinnet, a good find of Oliver Wood's, last year only a reserve - back to Johnson and - no, the Slytherins have taken the Quaffle, Slytherin Captain Marcus Flint gains the Quaffle and off he goes - Flint flying like an eagle up there - he's going to sc - no, stopped by an excellent move by Gryffindor Keeper Wood and the Gryffindors take the Quaffle - that's Chaser Katie Bell of Gryffindor there, nice dive around Flint, off up the field and - OUCH - that must have hurt, hit in the back of the head by a Bludger - Quaffle taken by the Slytherins - that's Adrian Pucey speeding off toward the goal posts, but he's blocked by a second Bludger - sent his way by Fred or George Weasley, can't tell which - nice play by the Gryffindor Beater, anyway, and Johnson back in possession of the Quaffle, a clear field ahead and off she goes - she's really flying - dodges a speeding Bludger - the goal posts are ahead - come on, now, Angelina - Keeper Bletchley dives - misses - GRYFFINDORS SCORE!"

Gryffindor cheers filled the cold air, with howls and moans from the surrounding Slytherins.

"Slytherin in possession," Lee Jordan was saying, "Chaser Pucey ducks two Bludgers, two Weasleys, and Chaser Bell, and speeds toward the - wait a moment - was that the Snitch?"

A murmur ran through the crowd as Adrian Pucey dropped the Quaffle, too busy looking over his shoulder at the flash of gold that had passed his left ear.

Kenneth Towler the Gryffindor seeker had saw it. In a great rush of excitement the older boy dived downward after the streak of gold. Slytherin Seeker Terence Higgs had seen it, too. Neck and neck they hurtled toward the Snitch - all the Chasers seemed to have forgotten what they were supposed to be doing as they hung in midair to watch.

But Higgs was slightly faster as Towler stopped not to crash, as Higgs did the same, with snitch out of sight.

WHAM! A roar of rage echoed from the Gryffindors below - Marcus Flint had purposly crashed into the Gryffindor seeker as Towler's broom spun off course,and the boy crashing into the ground.

"Foul!" screamed the Gryffindors.

Madam Hooch spoke angrily to Flint and then ordered a free shot at the goal posts for Gryffindor.

Harry and Daphne's eyes widened at the Quidditch Captain, as Madam Pomfrey went onto the Pitch to check if the boy was alright.

"This is why Slytherin always ends up winning" Daphne said quietly.

"So - after that obvious and disgusting bit of cheating-"

"Jordan!" growled Professor McGonagall.

"I mean, after that open and revolting foul. . . "

"Jordan, I'm warning you-"

"All right, all right. Flint nearly kills the Gryffindor Seeker, which could happen to anyone, I'm sure, so a penalty to Gryffindor, taken by Spinner, who puts it away, no trouble, and we continue play, Gryffindor still in possession. "

Lee was still commentating.

"Slytherin in possession - Flint with the Quaffle - passes Spinnet - passes Bell - hit hard in the face by a Bludger, hope it broke his nose - only joking, Professor - Slytherins score - A no. . . "

The Slytherins were cheering. Harry and Daphne began to cheer as well.

Suddenly Terrance Higgs shot up from the game and caught the snitch, "SLYTHERIN WINS" Lee Jordan shouted angrily.

The crowd went wild with the Gryffindors looking disappointed from the loss.

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. 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.

No one could wait for the holidays to start. While the Great Hall had roaring fires, the drafty corridors had become icy and a bitter wind rattled the windows in the classrooms. Worst of all was the Slytherin common room as well as 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.

"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."

He was looking over at Neville as he spoke, who would be staying at Hogwarts this Christmas as his grandmother had business to attend to. Crabbe and Goyle chuckled.

Neville acted as if they weren't there, with Harry, who was measuring out powdered spine of lionfish, did the same. Malfoy had been even more unpleasant than usual since the Quidditch over Slytherin's win he taunted the Gryffindor students to no end. Harry tried to stay a fly on the wall not to get involved with any cruel shenanigans.

Harry wasn't going back to Privet Drive for Christmas. Professor McGonagall had come around the week before to each house, 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. Blaise was to stay as well. Zabini's mother had recently been married for the fourth time, widowed three times before, Blaise noted it wouldn't be long for the next one to go as well.

Draco on the other hand seemed to get more and more jealous of the Boy-Who-lived as the school year went on, thinking he got preferential treatment from the professors.

Harry didn't know what to think of the Longbottom boy. Yes he was clumsy at times, but he seemed to be quite brave at others, standing up to Malfoy, even challenging him to a duel after the broom incident thinking Malfoy was the sole perpetrator.

But Harry had only learnt about this after through Draco bragging, how he left the Boy-Who-Lived in the trophy room past curfew to be caught by Filch. Strangely though Harry heard nothing about any Gryffindors caught out of bed and assumed either Longbottom had the same idea as Malfoy or just didn't get caught based off dumb luck.

Harry, Theo, and Blaise walked passed the Great Hall peaking in, 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 hundreds of candles.

"I wish I was staying for the Holiday" Theo said as they walked around the school.

Blaise shrugged, "I rather be home, but.." he glanced up at Harry putting his arm around him grinning, "It'll be fun here too, right Potter" he asked. Harry just smiled.

"Anythings better then going back to my relatives" he stated bluntly.

Blaise groaned, "You could at least pretend you'll have fun", Harry shrugged smiling.

"What's Malfoy up to now" Theo asked looking outside the Hall window with Potter and Zabini following.

"Would you mind moving out of the way?" came Malfoy's cold drawl from behind Ron, Hermione, and Neville. "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. "

Ron dived at Malfoy just as Snape came up the stairs.

"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. "

"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. Move along, all of you. "

Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle pushed roughly past the tree, scattering needles everywhere and smirking.

"I'll get him," said Ron, grinding his teeth at Malfoy's back, "one of these days, I'll get him—"

Harry, Blaise, and Theo couldn't help but laugh, from the blatant favoritism towards Slytherins, their head of house had.

"Did you see Weasley's face" Blaise said hysterically laughing clutching his side, "Better yet did you see Hagrid" Theo asked laughing while mimicking the giants voice.

Harry did like Hagrid and had nothing against him nor any of the Gryffindors, yet he laughed too.

Once the holidays had started, Harry and Blaise 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 sat by the hour eating anything they could spear on a toasting fork - bread, English muffins, and marshmallows.

Blaise 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. Blaise's set was very new which made it somewhat difficult for them to do what he wanted. Nevertheless he was quite alright at the game. Theo had left his set behind for Harry to use, but his pieces didn't trust him much, as they kept shouting different bits of advice.

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. When he woke early in the morning, however, the first thing he saw was three small packages at the foot of his bed.

"Merry Christmas," said Blaise 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 Blaise, turning to his own pile, which was a much bigger than Harry's.

The first 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.

Blaise was fascinated by the fifty pence.

"Weird!" he said, "What a shape! This is money?"

"You can keep it," said Harry, laughing at how Blaise gave him an odd look dropping it back in Harry's hand.

His next present also contained candy - a large box of Chocolate Frogs from Theodore. Harry thought it was a bit funny he sent Theo the same thing as it was his favorite as well.

Another parcel had a small grey box with a green bow. Unwrapping it was a golden snitch, he picked it up as it started flying around him. He caught it and smiled, he had hope she liked the present he had sent to her.

This only left one parcel. Harry picked it up and felt it. It was very light. He unwrapped it.

Something fluid and silvery gray went slithering to the floor where it lay in gleaming folds. Blaise gasped.

"I've heard of those," he said in a hushed voice, dropping one of the many presents his mother had gotten him "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," said Blaise, 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. He pulled the cloak over his head and his reflection vanished completely.

"There's a note!" said Blaise 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.

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. Blaise was admiring the cloak.

"I'd give anything for one of these," he said. "Anything. What's the matter?"

"Nothing," said Harry. He felt very strange. Who had sent the cloak? Had it really once belonged to his father?

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 thick, rich gravy and cranberry sauce - 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 Blaise 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.

Up at the High Table, Dumbledore had swapped his pointed wizard's hat for a flowered bonnet, and was chuckling merrily at a joke Professor Flitwick had just read him.

Flaming Christmas puddings followed the turkey. 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.

When Harry finally left the table, he was laden down with a stack of things out of the crackers, including a pack of nonexplodable, luminous balloons, a Grow-Your-Own-Warts kit, 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.

Harry and Blaise spent a happy afternoon outside in the snow wrestling and throwing snowballs at each , cold, wet, and gasping for breath they watched from the window as the Weasley brothers and Longbottom had a snowball fight after them.

They returned to the fire in the Slytherin common room, where Harry broke in his new chess set by winning spectacularly to Blaise.

After a meal of turkey sandwiches, crumpets, trifle, and Christmas cake, they felt too full and sleepy to do much.

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.

Blaise, 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.

His father's. . . this had been his father's. He let the material flow over his hands, smoother than silk, light as air. Use it well, the note had said.

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.

Use it well.

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.

Blaise 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.

He crept out of the dormitory, down the stairs, across the common room, and out the concealed stone wall.

Where should he go? He stopped, his heart racing, and thought. And then it came to him. The Restricted Section in the library.

Harry loved knowledge especially things that would come of use to him in the future.

He'd be able to read as long as he liked. 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.

The Restricted Section was right at the back of the library. Stepping carefully over the rope 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.

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 it fall open.

A piercing, bloodcurdling shriek split the silence - the book was screaming! Harry snapped it shut, but the shriek went on and on, one high, unbroken, earsplitting note. 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. 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.

"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. "

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 can't be far, we'll catch them. "

Harry stood rooted to the spot as Filch and Snape came around the corner ahead. They 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.

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. 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. 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.

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. 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. 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.

But the room was empty. Breathing very fast, he turned slowly back to the mirror.

There he was, reflected in it, white and scared-looking, and there, reflected behind him, were at least ten others. 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?

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.

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 of his reflection.

"Mom?" he whispered. "Dad?"

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 knobbly knees - Harry was looking at his family, for the first time in his life.

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. 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 come back," and hurried from the room.

He went to bed that night waiting to see the Mirror again the next morning.

"Morning Harry" Blaise said cheerfully, "You alright" he asked seeing Harry look a bit agitated this morning. He was dying to go back to the room and see his family.

"I'm ok" Harry stated spaced out. "We should play some pranks on Weasley and Longbottom, maybe give them a scare" Blaise said happily.

Harry shook his head, "I want to stay in today I think, I'll meet up with you later".

"You sure" Zabini asked concerned, Harry nodded as the dark boy left.

That third night he found his way more quickly than before. He was walking so fast he knew he was making more noise than was wise, but he didn't meet anyone.

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 -

"So - back again, Harry?"

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. 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, "you, like hundreds before you, have discovered the delights of the Mirror of Erised. "

"I didn't know it was called that, Sir. "

"But I expect you've realized by now what it does?"

"It - well - it shows me my family-"

"How did you know - ?"

"I don't need a cloak to become invisible," said Dumbledore gently. "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?"

Harry thought. Then he said slowly, "It shows us what we want. . . whatever we want. . . "

"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. 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.

"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 does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live, remember that. 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?"

"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?"

"I? I see myself holding a pair of thick, woolen socks. "

Harry stared.

"One can never have enough socks," said Dumbledore. "Another Christmas has come and gone and I didn't get a single pair. People will insist on giving me books. "

It was only when he was back in bed that it struck Harry that Dumbledore might not have been quite truthful. But then, he thought, it had been quite a personal question.

AN: Sorry if the story is a bit slow moving and lacking action. I really wanted to create a story where Harry wasn't the center of attention or overly involved. I wanted a story that didn't have a heroic 11 year old but one that wanted to fit in and just be a kid.

Reviews are welcome, Thank you for reading!