The train ride back to Hogwarts seemed to go by in a blink of an eye. There was one topic that dominated in our cabin, the Firebolt.
"100 galleons," Alicia yelped. "That's practically what my Cleansweep six cost brand new."
"It surprised me too," I replied. "But, my dad explained that materials are an important component in charm-crafting. And considering that the Firebolt is going to be the fastest broom in the world, it only makes sense that the materials are expensive."
"My parents are gonna go nuts if I ask them for the money for another broom," Alicia grumbled. "They just bought me my Cleansweep last year."
Seeing a carefully neutral expression on Cedric's face made me realize I had stuck my foot in my mouth when I mentioned the money. I guess I had taken how well off my family was for granted. All I had to do was mention it to my parents if I ever wanted anything, and they got it for me. Considering Cedric's Dad worked for the Ministry, coming up with a 100 galleons was probably a bigger deal to him.
My eyes brightened as an idea occurred to me. "What about your share of the stash from the Grendel's vault?"
Alicia looked embarrassed and mumbled, "I kinda spent it all."
"How in Merlin's name did you spend it already?" I asked.
"A girl had needs," she defended.
Hoping that she wasn't alone in her spending, she looked to the others.
Cedric shook his head, "My dad took mine and opened me an account at Gringotts. But, he doesn't want me to touch it till I come of age."
Anna, being the daughter of a tycoon, was in a similar boat to me. She shook her head, "I haven't touched mine."
Seeing how uncomfortable Alicia and Cedric were, I decided to backpedal, "Well, you'll have plenty of time to come up with the money. It's going to take me some time before I get skilled enough to enchant at that level."
Inwardly, I was already planning on how to make sure my friends could get the money. Knowing Cedric, he would reject any attempt at what he viewed as charity. I would have to give this some thought. One way or another, I was going to make sure he ended up on a Firebolt. I was looking forward to the day he could match his seeker skills against Harry when they were on even footing.
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Before I knew it, we were back at Hogwarts having dinner. A small pang of pity shot through me as I caught sight of Harry looking delighted to see his friends back at school.
If things went according to canon, Harry spent much of the break gazing at The Mirror of Erised, at least, before Professor Dumbledore took it and enchanted it to be the final layer of defense for the Philosopher's Stone.
Thinking about the Mirror made me tempted to go and check it out. I even knew of an easy shortcut that would let me bypass all the other obstacles, the Room of Requirement. The room might even allow me to summon the Mirror directly.
For whatever reason, during the next couple of days, the idea of visiting the Mirror of Erised haunted my thoughts. It was like a mental itch I couldn't scratch. One evening, unable to fall asleep, I finally decided to check the Mirror out and see if it did everything the books claimed it did.
Not wanting to be caught out of bounds, I applied the Disillusionment Charm. After feeling the sensation of an egg running down my neck, I paused to examine my camouflage.
I had come a long way with the charm. The chameleon effect was nearly perfect. But, I knew it could be taken further. Supposedly Professor Dumbledore could cast one powerful enough to make him fully invisible. I wasn't quite there yet, but I was looking forward to the day I achieved perfect mastery of the spell.
Knowing I would probably need help, Athena tagged along. I knew better than to try and use the Disillusionment Charm on her. The one time I tried it out on her, I instantly regretted it. Her caterwauling nearly burst my eardrums.
Carefully sneaking through the castle, I made it to the Room of Requirement without incident. I closed my eyes and tried to summon the Mirror of Erised.
For the first time since I've been at Hogwarts, the Room of Requirement failed me. I can't say I was too surprised. I assumed that it didn't work because Professor Dumbledore put down some pretty strong spells on the Mirror, preventing it from being summoned.
Since Plan A didn't work, I moved onto plan B. I had discovered quite a while ago that the exit to the Room of Requirement could be moved through the castle. The plan was to get the exit to open by the Mirror, bypassing all the layers of defense surrounding the Mirror. The only other thing I needed to do was have Athena keep the door open, so I didn't get trapped down there.
After concentrating on my desire for the exit to open next to the Mirror of Erised, I reached out and opened the exit to the Room of Requirement. I smiled when I noticed that the exit was no longer in the 7th-floor corridor but rather a larger stone chamber dimly lit by torchlight.
Looking down at Athena, I whispered, "Stay here and keep the door open."
The first thing I noticed was that the chamber only had one entrance. It was blocked by eerily black flames that promised to sear the flesh off anyone who hadn't drunk the correct potion. Thankfully, I was able to bypass Professor Snape's puzzle.
Satisfied that no one was coming through the black flames, I turned my attention to the only object in the chamber, the Mirror of Erised.
When most people hear the term mirror, they tend to think of a small mirror hanging above a sink in a bathroom, or perhaps a larger one in the bedroom. The Mirror of Erised put those to shame. It was enormous, standing at around fifteen feet. Perhaps only Hagrid could view a mirror of that size as normal. Its ornate golden frame was supported by two clawed feet. There was an inscription carved around the top: Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi
As I drew closer, I could feel my heart beating in my chest. Part of me wanted to turn back. Having one's innermost desires laid out in front of them could be both enlightening and troubling at the same time.
Professor Dumbledore warned Harry that the Mirror had driven people mad before. Still, even with that warning rumbling through my head, I drew closer to the Mirror. I had to know. I wanted to see what it would show me.
For a split second, I only saw myself in the Mirror. Just as I was wondering if the Mirror was broken, the scene changed.
It was everything I thought it would be and more. They say a picture was worth a thousand words, but the images shown in the Mirror were worth tens times that amount.
The first thing I saw was a very familiar image. It was the family room in my house. Everyone in my family was there, all having a good time. The more I studied the image, the more it changed. It started adding people, it wasn't just my family, but all my friends as well.
One strange detail I noticed while I was in the gathering happy as a clam. I noticed it wasn't the only image of me. Taking a step back, I noticed an older shadowy version of myself was watching the gathering.
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I seemed to be sitting on my Hawk Throne with one hand supporting my chin as I lazily gazed down at my friends and family. If I had to put an age to my older self, I would say my mid-twenties.
Focusing on the shadowy version of myself, I started noticing more details. Like a shallow scar running through my left eyebrow and down my cheek. Or the ring with a gem that shifted colors on my right hand.
If those details weren't strange enough, the older version of myself glanced up and made eye contact with me.
Without thinking, I took a step back from the Mirror. What in Merlin's Addled Mind was that?
His steely grey eyes seemed to focus on me for a moment before he playfully winked. Like he was amused by my reaction. He waved his other hand, and the family scene he was watching over started morphing.
The next scene showed me another desire that I kept buried deep down—the downfall of the Whitehorn family along with their syndicate. Part of me wanted to look away from the nightmarish scene, but another part of me, a colder part of me that I rarely let out of its cage, kept my eyes glued to the Mirror.
I was standing wand in hand in a dark room with seven large chairs in a U shape. Shadowy figures whose facial features I couldn't make out sat in six of the chairs. But one I recognized, it was Declan Whithorn, head of the syndicate. Standing on either side of his chair were Michael and Delvin.
What happened next was grisly, even for me. The me in the image started tearing through them like a sickle cutting a path through wheat.
Spells that I didn't recognize were being fired off one after the other—each producing a different effect. One shadowy figure exploded into a bloody pink mist. Another had their face melted off. Declan ended up being hit by a slicing spell that cut him from head to groin. He collapsed into two separate pieces spilling his guts across the floor.
Delvin, his cowardly son, died quickly with a look of terror on his face when he was hit by a green jet of light. The scene ended with me towering over Michael, who was tearfully blubbering on his hands and knees. The cold sneer on my face told me Michael wouldn't survive.
Bile rose in my throat, and my stomach threatened to empty its contents. "That is not me," I pointlessly shouted at the mirror version on me. "I would never."
My voice trailed off as the Mirror showed a nearly identical scene. It didn't go down the same as the previous times. But it didn't change anything. The mirror image of me ripped through them, gleefully tearing them apart. Over and over, the Mirror showed me this scene, ruthlessly pounding it into my head that part of me, however small, wanted this.
I don't know how many times I viewed it, but I was starting to understand how the Mirror of Erised could drive someone mad. The Mirror didn't just show you your main desire. It showed all of them. Even the ones you weren't proud of, the ones you wouldn't act on, the desires you knew were wrong but still had.
Only after finally admitting to myself that yes, a part of me wanted to do horrible things to the Whitehorn's and their syndicate. The part that would do anything to protect my family, the part that would ruthlessly crush anything that threatened my family. Did the Mirror move on and showed me other things I desired.
The next scene was thankfully less violent; it was a picture of me waving and receiving awards and accolades for breakthroughs in magic. All while being congratulated and welcomed by the best minds in magic.
The Mirror moved on and showed me leaving behind my contribution to the Library of Ravenclaw. It was so impressive that it overshadowed all the other heirs, even Ravenclaw herself.
On and on, the Mirror showed me the things I wanted. Most were good, but some were dark and better left unspoken. Some were obvious, like being the youngest international dueling champion or mastering magical disciplines. Others were more confusing, like me winning the Hogwarts Quidditch Cup for Ravenclaw when I wasn't even on the quidditch team.
Just when I thought it was over, the Mirror started showing images of what every teenage boy thinks about, girls. Apparently, part of me wanted to be a real Casanova because there was no shortage of girls, most of whom were my classmates.
My cheeks burned red in embarrassment when I saw an image of Jessica, teasing me about what she wore under her Hogwarts robes. When Anna joined her, I nearly passed out. I tried to cover my eyes with my hands, you know, out of respect for my friends. But for some reason, the gaps between my fingers refused to close, showing me everything, EVERYTHING.
The more scenes that were shown to me made me sheepishly realize that compared to Harry Potter, who only saw his parents in the Mirror, I was a greedy son of a bitch. Apparently, I wanted everything.
I'm not sure how long I was standing there, mesmerized by the images shown, but a noise startled me and brought me out of it.
I shook my head, trying to clear the fuzziness. Once my head was clear, I took several deep breaths. The kind when you're underwater for way too long, and you surface gasping as if you want to inhale all the oxygen in the world.
Turning, I saw Athena staring at me with concern. She must have turned up the volume when she saw how deep the Mirror had drawn me in.
Turning back to the Mirror, I frowned. Whoever invented the Mirror of Erised was a real bastard. No wonder wizards could be driven mad looking into this thing. Who knows what long-term damage could be done if someone was allowed to stare at the Mirror uninterrupted. I bet someone could easily starve to death, so drawn in that they lose perspective of everything. Or perhaps they would become so lost in the illusions the Mirror showed, preferring it to reality. Perhaps that was its original purpose before Professor Dumbledore repurposed it to defend the Stone.
Although, I knew I should leave it alone. I decided to try one more thing. I was a little tempted to see if I could get the Philosopher's Stone. All I would want is a piece, something I could experiment on.
The Stone could make anyone who drank the water it produced immortal. Yes, it was a shitty version of immortality. But still, it was a powerful piece of magic, and I had a weakness for those.
This time, I was warier when I looked into the Mirror. I wasn't about to get sucked deep in again.
The Mirror showed me what I wanted, me holding the Philosopher's Stone. But, similar to Quirrell's experience, that was all it did.
As I watched myself experimenting and learning the Stone's secrets. I realized I would never in a million years pass Dumbledore's test of wanting to find the Stone, but not use it. It just wasn't who I was. If I had the Stone, I would use it or experiment on it, hoping to perfect the immortality it gave.
As soon as the thought appeared, the older version of myself appeared behind the version of myself experimenting on the Stone. For the second time, he winked at me, like he knew something I didn't. He pulled out a familiar aspen wand dispelling that version of me.
Seeing him smirk at me made the hairs on the back of my neck rise up. He, I mean me, whatever it was, was starting to seriously weird me out. So, I slowly backed away and let out a sigh of relief when the image faded away.
Turning to Athena, who was still holding the door to the Room of Requirement open, I said, "I think I've seen enough for tonight. Let's go back."
Athena happily chuffed, pleased to be leaving the creepy Mirror behind.
When we got back to the dorm, I realized it was nearly morning. Just how long had I been staring at the Mirror before Athena snapped me out of it?
Already, I could feel the urge to return to see what else it would show me. A small part of me argued that perhaps the Mirror's power could be harnessed in some way. Maybe I could use it as a guide to get things I wanted.
I shook my head, snapping out of it. I privately swore never to go back. It was just too dangerous, too addictive, and not worth the danger. I sounded like someone strung out on pixie dust and was making excuses to get my next fix.
As I laid in bed waiting for the sun to rise, I couldn't help but think about everything I had seen. In a way, the Mirror had given me a brutally honest glimpse into who I was, of what I wanted.
Some of the things the Mirror showed me were pure childish fantasies. Like being the Captain of the Ravenclaw Quidditch Team and winning the Quidditch Cup. Sure, I had fantasized about it when I was younger, but that wasn't really something I thought about anymore. Maybe the Mirror doesn't care. Maybe as long as you've wanted it, it will show it to you, trying to entice you to sink deeper within the delusion.
Some of the other stuff it showed me weren't even things I actively thought about. Somehow it reached deep within my subconscious and pulled them out.
Of course, most of what was shone was spot on for what I wanted. But, the one thing my mind kept going back to was the older version of myself. I knew not to take the things I saw seriously; the Mirror was just trying to tempt me. But still, he somehow felt different.
The obvious conclusion was it was a version of myself that mastered magic and was at the height of power, everything I wanted to be. Still, the way he looked at me, it was like he was so real.
I shivered as goosebumps flooded my arms.
Thankfully, the sun's rays peeking through my windows distracted me from my thoughts. Somehow in the daylight, last night's events seemed more distant. Knowing that it would be a long day, I dug through the many potions I had brewed, looking for a wide-eye potion.
Normally I would power through the day, but I had potions later today, and the last person who dozed off in class ended up with a month's worth of detentions testing antidotes. The wide-eye potion would keep me awake, and even with the cost of me being twice as tired when it wore off, the effects were more than worth it.
The next couple of days sucked. The urge to return to the Mirror of Erised was nearly overpowering. I was halfway tempted to erase the whole experience from my mind but ultimately decided against it. If I couldn't handle something like this, how was I ever supposed to master magic?
While the driving urge to return to the Mirror slowly faded away, I was left with some very confusing dreams, most of which I couldn't remember the contents other than remembering that they were strange.