If you want to support me check out my patréon at https://www.patréon.com/athassprkr
I tend to upload drafts of early chapters on there to get people's opinions of them so you can read up to 20 chapters ahead as a bonus.
I would like to thank my beta, Akisu, for his help in this chapter.
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20 December 1991, Hogwarts
Oddly enough, Harry found himself in front of an open room near the library. He felt oddly compelled to just walk there and look at it properly. The Potter scion's eyes widened when he entered it. Inside was a very large mirror, probably very old, with some kind of golden frame. It had an inscription carved around the top: Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi. Well, that was an unexpected surprise.
Harry glanced at the infamous mirror of Erised with trepidation. He had tried researching the mirror in the library and found absolutely nothing. To be fair, the Potter scion didn't exactly know when the mirror was created or how it was created, only that it was a mirror that showed people what they truly desired. That description was too vague, and Harry had researched the most well-known magical mirrors but found no mention of the mirror of Erised.
Now that it was in front of him, he started using his Arcane Hearing – yeah, he was going to call it that now; it's a lot cooler than magical hearing. Harry did his best to deactivate this skill ever since he was in the castle unless he actively needed it. The castle was just too magical, and he kept getting headaches after a while. Especially when it somewhat evolved after the crest activation ritual. There was always an extra dimension to every melody, Harry theorized that it was the emotions of the caster, but he wasn't sure, only that really overwhelming in high doses.
Anyway, the moment Harry activated his Arcane Hearing, the mirror started to sing. It was by far the weirdest artefact he had ever analyzed, definitely the most complex. Oh, Harry could tell the remnants of some kind of space manipulation which he became familiar with by analyzing his expanded backpack. Oh, it was far more impressive than the backpack, but the rhythm, the melody for the lack of a better term was similar. There were the standard curse repelling enchantments, and protection charms, that's not to mention the weird runes that Harry didn't understand. There was a sense of judgement, of possible punishment depending on that judgement. It was the closest thing he could compare to a magical art piece. Harry oddly wondered if he could somehow transcribe the melody into actual music. He was already pretty good with the piano and violin and putting magic in music form could help him make a killing.
Back to the mirror, there was a single piece of magic that just felt alien yet familiar. Harry supposes that it had something to do with the heart's desire part of the inscription. Harry could feel his raven crest heating up slightly. He really needed to figure out how his crest worked. Not a single one of his classmates mentioned their crests doing anything. It was apparently supposed to show itself after their thirteen birthdays, and yet Harry's crest kept burning in certain situations.
So far, Harry did his best to not look directly into the mirror. Oh, for all its beauty, the artefact was very dangerous, at least it would be if someone was found wanting while looking at it. Still, Harry decided that he wouldn't return to see the mirror again, no matter what he saw. In many ways, he was still confused about his ambition, about his future. Harry wanted to make his mark on the world, but other than just learning magic, he didn't know what his heart's desire was. Perhaps it would let him know to learn more about himself than any other.
He decided to finally take a glimpse at the mirror, unable to restrain his curiosity and stood in front of the mirror while murmuring, "My heart's desire, huh? I wonder…"
Harry opened his eyes and gasped at the sight that awaited him. It was an older version of himself that was giving Harry a confident smirk. His green eyes were glowing, thrumming with power, but that only seemed to be a minor aspect of the desire. No, the reason Harry gasped in shock was the two people that were standing next to him. There was a woman with constantly changing features, who was looking at his mirror self with love and warmth in her eyes. There was also the young girl who was looking at him with admiration. She had messy black hair and green eyes that reminded him eerily of his own. He knew deep in his heart that this girl was his daughter, which made the older woman his wife. Harry looked at her finger and saw a beautiful wedding ring. His mirror self was wearing a ring of his own as well.
Behind them was a large house with a garden. It wasn't quite large enough to be called a mansion, but it was larger than any villa he had ever seen. It looked luxurious yet cosy, a true home. Behind it was a beautiful beach with sand as white as snow, and the water was as beautiful as sapphires.
So, for all his ambition and fascination with his magic, all he wanted deep down was to have a family, a home, and live comfortably while relishing in their love. In his previous life, he never experienced such love. Oh, he loved his parents even through all their distance, and he loved his brother deeply, but it was a love based on responsibility and familial relations. He never had someone to support him, someone he could complain to when he was frustrated, someone that would love him in return. A true partner. Harrold had died without anyone to mourn him. He died forgotten. He was nothing.
Oh, he wanted to make his mark in the world, to be remembered by the history books, to have something to give his life meaning. He was an empty man, before, devoid of love, devoid of life. A family, a legacy was a way to achieve his dream in a way. True happiness, that's what he could see on his mirror version's face. He was fulfilled, he was happy, he was content. It was so alien on his face, but it looked so right. Harry didn't care about the power that the man was showing off. The man was thrumming with magic, with power, but it was his smile, and the way he looked at his daughter, at his family, that really took his breath away.
The Potter scion noticed that his eyes were tearing up, and let out a bitter chuckle, "Love. My heart's desire is love. Having a loving wife and child. To find true happiness in an imperfect world. What a mockery of a Slytherin I turned out to be."
Slytherin was the house of the cunning and ambitious and Harry just found out that it was his ambition was to settle down with a loving wife and have a child to raise and spoil. What a joke.
"Oh, but I find that love is by far grander of a goal and one with far more rewards, than any other pursuit," an aged voice responded behind him.
Harry stiffened and turned with his wand raised. He was so distracted by the loud symphony of the mirror that he didn't notice the one hiding behind him. He relaxed slightly and lowered his wand when he saw the headmaster. Harry was talented, yes, but he didn't even come close to Dumbledore's level. If the man wanted to do something to him, he would have done it already.
"I didn't see you, sir," Harry remarked.
"Because I did not want you to see me, young Harry. Now, tell me, you, like hundreds before you, have discovered the delights of the Mirror of Erised. What do you think of it?"
Harry shrugged, "I think it's a very dangerous artefact."
"And you would be right. Countless men have wasted away before this mirror, entranced by what they have seen, or been driven mad, not knowing if what it shows is real or even possible. Do you know of its origin?" the headmaster asked.
"I can't say that I do," Harry responded.
"Long ago, before the statute of secrecy was put in place, a muggle Lord had become quite wealthy after a few trade deals. And yet, his staff and subjects were living in very poor conditions, for the lord did not wish to part with any of his wealth. Seeing enemies everywhere, he foolishly commissioned a fae to create the ultimate vault, one that cannot be accessed by anyone. He planned on tricking the fairy after the vault was built by locking his gold inside and refusing to pay her. Seeing the man's greed and his mistreatment of those he deemed to be below him, they decided to add some creating punishment. They created this mirror to act as a gateway for all who wish to put their riches, and yet they could only take it out if they do not truly desire it. When the fae gave the lord the mirror, he put all of his wealth inside and refused to pay. The fairy then left with an odd smile on its face and relished while watching the man see his wealth and yet not be able to take a single coin. The man died on hunger and thirst, unwilling to let go of the mirror that held what he desired the most."
Harry raised an eyebrow at the story. He didn't expect that. He didn't even know that the fae were real. He just commented, "A fascinating story. How ironic for a man to be killed by what he desired the most."
"Quite. Very few people could stand in front of this mirror and see love instead of power and wealth. It is usually those who have lost love that treasure it the most," Dumbledore remarked.
"You can never lose what you never had. You can never take it for granted when you see people have it and yet dismiss it so casually. I hope I don't fall into the same trap they do."
"To be perfectly honest, I half expected you to see your parents in the mirror," the headmaster remarked.
"Nothing can bring back the dead. It would be foolish for my whole being to be centred around people I will never meet. It's better to let the dead have their rest and focus on the living."
"You really are wiser beyond your years, Harry Potter," the headmaster remarked, "I only wish to offer you the piece of advice to not seek the mirror once more, but I think you can understand its dangers more than anyone your age should."
They stayed in each other's presence for a good minute before Harry spoke up, "Professor may I ask a question?"
"You just did, young Harry, but I suppose one more question wouldn't be too much of a bother," answered the old man with mirth in his eyes.
Harry shrugged, "Do you know what happened to my father's cloak, sir?"
The man stiffened at the action and asked, "What makes you think that I have any idea about what happened?"
"Well, I was looking for anything that might have survived the fire and this cloak stood out, since from what I understand it survived far worse attacks before. It's a family heirloom, you see. I owled the ministry and they said that anything regarding my inheritance was handled by you, Headmaster, at least according to my father's will that is. It had to do with you being the witness to the will or something. I'm not really sure; most of it went a little over my head. Which is why I am asking if you ever found out what happened to it."
The headmaster relaxed, "I'm afraid not, young Harry. It's truly possible that it was destroyed by the fire. After all, it had devastated an entire village of wizards and muggles. It's very probable that an artefact, no matter how ancient or well protected, could be destroyed."
Harry slumped, "Well, that's a shame, really."
Suddenly, Harry's family crest burned slightly, and the Potter scion obtained the first bit of information from it. He suppressed a grin and continued, "And yet, it still could be stolen. Perhaps it would be better to just activate the curse, just in case."
Again, the headmaster stumbled, "Is the cloak cursed, young Harry?"
The Potter scion shrugged, "Well, it's sort of a safeguard. I found out about it from a small journal from my grandfather in Gringotts. The artifact is bound to the Potter family and it's very well protected, especially since it's nothing more than a long-lived invisibility cloak. But I guess it's a family heirloom of some sort. So, yeah, while the cloak would barely work for anyone without Potter blood, there's a small activation curse that can be used in case it's stolen. It emits some kind of locator signal, but even if it's returned the curse persists if the holder is not of Potter blood. I'm not sure of the specifics, but I do know that the cloak was stolen a few centuries back by the Codrington family, and well, the entire family, branches and all, were gone in a single generation, and the cloak was back in the possession of the Potter family."
Harry wasn't even lying. The crest really had shown him the fate of the Codrington family, as well as the ritual to activate the curse on the cloak.
The man looked slightly worried, "My boy, there's no reason to take such drastic measures."
"I know, the cloak is probably just destroyed, but this is just me making sure that no one stole it. If someone had it, they would have arranged for a meeting when I came to Hogwarts. Honestly, I'm probably just going to activate it on New Year's Eve. I still need a few materials to activate the curse but I already owl ordered them."
Harry pretended to look at his watch, "Oh, look at the time. It's almost curfew and I don't want to get detention. It was nice speaking with you, Headmaster, and thank you for the story. Don't worry, I won't look for the mirror again, but you really should hide it better."
The Potter scion turned and left the room doing his best to not burst into laughter. When he was finally in the comfort of his common room, Harry broke down and laughed harder than he ever had before at Dumbledore's panicked expression when he talked about the cloak's curse.
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If you want to support me check out my patréon at https://www.patréon.com/athassprkr
I tend to upload drafts of early chapters on there to get people's opinions of them so you can read up to 20 chapters ahead as a bonus.
Thank you for your support in these hard times.