Christmas was approaching. One morning in mid-December, Hogwarts woke to find itself covered in over a meter of snow. The lake froze and the Weasley twins were punished for enchanting several snowballs to follow Quirrell wherever he went, bouncing off the back of his turban. The few owls that managed to navigate through the stormy sky to deliver mail had to be nursed back to health by Hagrid before they could fly again.
Everyone could hardly wait for the Christmas holidays. Even though the Gryffindor common room and the Great Hall had roaring fires in their fireplaces, the draughty corridors had become icy and a bitter wind rattled the classroom windows. The worst were Professor Snape's classes in the dungeons, where the students' breath rose in a mist before them and they huddled as close as possible to their cauldrons.
- I really pity. - Said Draco Malfoy in Potions class. - Those people who have to stay at Hogwarts for Christmas because their family doesn't want them home. - He looked at Harry as he said this. Crabbe and Goyle eyed Harry, who was measuring out lionfish spine powder, and ignored them. Malfoy was being more unpleasant than usual.
It was true that Harry wasn't going back to Privet Drive for Christmas. Professor McGonagall had spent the previous week making a list of students who were staying at Hogwarts over Christmas and New Year, and Harry had signed his name immediately. He didn't feel sorry for himself at all; this was probably going to be the best Christmas he ever had.
Ron and his brothers were also staying because Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were going to Romania to visit Charlie.
When they left the dungeons at the end of Potions class, they found a large pine tree blocking the corridor ahead. Two massive feet sticking out from under the tree and a loud puffing sound told them that Hagrid was behind it.
- Hi, Hagrid, need any help? - Ron asked, sticking his head through the branches.
- No, I'm all right, thanks, Ron. - Replied the gamekeeper.
- Would you mind moving out of the way? - Came Draco's drawling voice from behind them. - Trying to earn some extra money, Weasley? Hoping to be a 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 Draco just as Snape came up the stairs, and Harry, already seeing the trouble this could cause, quickly pointed his wand:
- Rictusempra. - Harry proclaimed, making Draco fall to the ground, laughing uncontrollably, causing many around to laugh as if it were a game of testing silly spells.
The Potions Master paid little attention to what was happening and soon disappeared into the corridors, with Harry finally stopping the tickling charm.
- I told you, Draco, watch what you say! Maybe next time I'll really have to hurt you. - Potter said without looking at him, then used another spell.
- Wingardium Leviosa. - Harry conjured, making the large pine tree levitate slightly to the side so Hagrid could do what he wanted without blocking the corridor behind them.
Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle pushed past them roughly, under Harry's sarcastic laugh.
- I'll get him! - Ron promised, grinding his teeth at Draco's back. - One of these days, I'll get him.
- Think better, are you really going to fall for his taunts? - Said Harry, making Hagrid laugh proudly at Harry's maturity in handling childish squabbles.
- Come on, cheer up, Christmas is coming - Said Hagrid. - I'll tell you what we're going to do, come with me to see the Great Hall, it's wonderful. - So the three of them accompanied Hagrid to the Great Hall. Harry, seeing that the gamekeeper couldn't use magic, opted to continue with the levitation spell, which made transport much easier, where Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick were working on the Christmas decorations.
- Ah, Hagrid, the last tree, put it in that corner over there, please. - She said, seeing only the big man.
- Please, Harry, keep it upright. - Hagrid said, stepping aside, where the Hogwarts Deputy Headmistress was surprised to see her favorite student already conjuring magic, and although it was forbidden in the corridor, clearly this was an exception under the company of a staff member.
The hall was spectacular. Garlands of holly and mistletoe hung all around the walls, and no fewer than twelve towering Christmas trees stood around the room, some sparkling with tiny icicles, some glittering with hundreds of candles.
- How many days until the holidays? - Hagrid asked.
- One - Answered Hermione, who had just joined them. - Oh, that reminds me: Harry, it's half an hour until lunch, we should be in the library.
- Oh, you again. - Ron said dryly, tearing his eyes away from Professor Flitwick, who was producing blue bubbles from his wand and sending them over the branches of the newly arrived tree.
- Library? - Hagrid was astonished, accompanying them outside the hall. - On the eve of the holidays? Aren't you studying too hard?
- Oh, we're not studying - Replied Harry, excitedly. - Since you mentioned Nicolau Flamel, we've been trying to find out who he is.
- You what? - Hagrid seemed shocked. - Listen here: I've told you, stop it. It's none of your business what the dog is guarding. - He said, his eyes widening in horror at having revealed something he shouldn't have.
- It's not that, Hagrid... Listen, when I was about to board the Hogwarts Express, I bumped into a man with dark hair and reddish eyes. - Harry explained quietly to the gamekeeper. - In short, we talked for a while, and he gave me a very interesting gift, a book on magical creatures, and in the end, he said his name was Niklaus.
- Somehow I feel these two are connected, I just want to know who Nicolas Flamel is, that's all. - Harry finally said, seeing surprise in Hagrid's eyes.
- That's incredible... After Grindelwald's fall, no one ever heard of Nicolau Flamel again... all right, kids, you can go. - Hagrid said, seeing that Harry was not seeking to interfere. - But promise me one thing, Harry, let me see that book on magical creatures later, maybe it has something I don't know yet. - The gamekeeper asked, seeing Harry smile mysteriously.
- All right, Hagrid! I believe you'll be very surprised. - Harry finally said mysteriously. - But if you want to tell us about him, it would save us a lot of work. - Harry said with a smile. - We must have consulted about a hundred books and couldn't find him anywhere. How about giving us a clue? I know I've read his name on those wizard cards.
- Not saying a word. - Hagrid replied firmly, making Harry laugh again and finally leave the hall.
They had indeed been searching for Flamel's name in books since Hagrid let it slip one night when he had too much butterbeer.
The problem was that it was very difficult to know where to start, not knowing what Flamel could have to do with Niklaus, given that Harry didn't know either of them. He wasn't in "Great Wizards of the Century," nor in "Notable Names in Magic of Our Time," nor could he be found in "Important Modern Discoveries in the Field of Magic," or in "A Study of Recent Advances in Magic," which Hermione so often searched through and still got exasperated upon seeing specific pages had been torn out of the books.
And, of course, there was also the sheer size of the library itself, tens of thousands of books, thousands of shelves, hundreds of narrow corridors.
Hermione pulled out a list of subjects and titles she had decided to research while Ron headed to a row of books and began pulling them off the shelf at random. Harry wandered over to the restricted section. Not to enter it, but to look at the books near that section.
There could be something important. He had been thinking for some time that Flamel might be there. Unfortunately, students needed a note signed by a teacher to consult any book in the restricted section, and he knew that none would ever give him such a note.
These were books that contained powerful dark magic never taught at Hogwarts and only read by older students who had already finished the year and were studying in the advanced Defense Against the Dark Arts course, or rather the famous DADA that Harry had heard about from some older students with whom he had socialized every night in the Gryffindor common room.
- What are you looking for, young man? - A tall woman with fair skin, blue eyes, red lipstick, and dark hair with well-defined curves in a business suit asked curiously, as she saw Harry there every day and didn't know him from any class above the fourth year.
- Hm?... - Harry murmured, studying her. - Anything related to Nicolau Flamel, Newt Scamander, or something involving a book on Magical Creatures and a Muggle-Worthy Excuse Case.
The librarian looked at him, knowing well that there was nothing in that section related to what he was asking.
But who said her knowledge couldn't be useful:
- Well... Clearly there's nothing here about that, since the Headmaster has rented out some exclusive books depicting figures of great importance in the magical world. Why don't you ask a professor for permission, if you're a DADA student, they clearly won't deny it. - She said, now sitting down in a chair. It would certainly be strange for a librarian to converse right there, but since no one was around, her curiosity got the better of her.
- I think you don't understand... I'm a first-year, no matter how much I ask a professor, I highly doubt they'll grant me access to it. - He replied, now looking at her. Upon seeing his scar, she immediately showed a look of surprise and understanding.
- So, you're the famous Harry Potter? - She said, watching him approach her.
- Just Harry is fine, this famous stuff is all nonsense. - He said, making her let out a small laugh. - And you are? - Harry asked, seeking to shake her hand.
- Irma Pince. - She replied, shaking Harry's hand, only to be surprised when he gently pulled it and kissed the back of her hand.
An old-fashioned greeting rarely used these days, but one Harry liked to use with women, always loving to see their flushed faces. This time was no different, as Harry let out a small laugh and sat down in front of her.
- It's a pleasure, Irma Pince..., but tell me! Is there another place to find what I'm looking for? - Harry asked with her smiling back at him.
- Besides the restricted section, these specific details you're looking for aren't found here. - She informed, seeing his disappointment. - But, maybe I know a thing or two that could help you. - She continued, seeing his surprise because he really didn't expect her to volunteer information. - But, not everything can be given.
- What do you need? - Harry asked.
- I've seen how well you control levitation spells while organizing the countless books you've taken out in the past few weeks. Unfortunately, few students are interested in helping me here in the library, and when they do, they know little about the specific spells I need.
- So, let's do this... You work here with me at night while I teach you the spells needed to care for a library, in exchange I'll give you information on what you want, and permanent access to the restricted section, but under my supervision, and maybe, even some extra points for your house. - She finally explained with Harry smiling at her.
- That's perfect for me, I can start tonight if you're interested - He replied, making her excited, and already finding an opportunity to spend more nights outside his common room after curfew.
- Very well! What's your first question? - She asked, adjusting her chair.
- Who was Newt Scamander?... And what's so special about the supposed Muggle-Worthy Excuse Case? - Harry asked, already knowing about them, but needing something more specific from a third-party perspective and not just his own.
- Well... first of all, Newt Scamander was a famous Magizoologist. - Irma Pince began explaining. - He developed an interest in magical creatures as a child, encouraged by Mrs. Scamander, Newt's mother.
- Mrs. Scamander was an enthusiastic breeder of Hippogriffs. Newt began his studies at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, where he was sorted into Hufflepuff house.
- He probably chose Care of Magical Creatures as an elective in his third year. Newt was shy, had few friends, and was probably not the first choice of the girls. - She continued with a chuckle at the information she remembered from the book.
- Even so, he was a brilliant student in Care of Magical Creatures, but was reasonably poor in Transfiguration. His studies were interrupted when he was accused of endangering human life due to his unusual interest in magical creatures, leading to his expulsion from our school.
- It is known that Albus Dumbledore, the Transfiguration professor at the time, argued on behalf of the young man but was unable to prevent his expulsion, thus adopting him as a protégé and assistant.
== Work for the Ministry of Magic ==
It didn't take long for the Ministry of Magic to get hold of Newt Scamander after his expulsion. And much less for his nod, which indicated his enthusiasm in taking the position in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures.
Newt worked for two years in the House-Elf Relocation Office (which, according to Newt, were two extremely tedious years) before being transferred to the Beast Division, where his prodigious knowledge of bizarre magical animals earned him rapid promotions.
== Magizoologist and Writer ==
In 1918, Augustus Worme of Obscurus Books invited Newt to write the first edition of Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them. Newt, earning a really low salary working at the Ministry, saw the opportunity for a little more money and the chance to spend his holidays traveling the world in search of new magical species, accepted without hesitation.
He traveled to hundreds of countries on five continents, researching and collecting information for the book. Observing closely the behavior, habits, and curious ways of fantastic animals. He also studied the abilities of these creatures, earned their trust, and on one occasion, amazed them with his travel kettle. Released in 1927, the volume Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them quickly became a bestseller, chosen as a textbook for Hogwarts. It is currently in its fifty-second edition.
In 1926, upon entering American territory, Newt let some animals escape, causing confusion with the Magical Congress of the United States, which ensures the exclusion of the wizarding society from the no-maj society (more commonly known as Muggles) due to the fear generated by the Salem Witch Trials. The exposure Newt caused led no-maj authorities, especially the Shaw family, to pay more attention to the radical anti-witch group Second Salemers, led by Mary Lou.
== Expansive Suitcase ==
After Newt Scamander was expelled from Hogwarts, he decided to travel the world with the mission to save magical creatures, especially those threatened by wizards, hunters, collectors, and traffickers of these creatures.
To transport these creatures safely and secretly, Newt created a magical suitcase, whose interior held habitats specifically developed for each of them. This artifact became highly admired because the enchantment appeared to be permanent, raising questions about how this was possible since all expansion spells are temporary and require a great deal of magoi usage.
[ Magical Properties ]
The suitcase was attributed with the undetectable extension charm.
Thanks to this magic, opening the suitcase allows one to enter it as if it were a door to a warehouse.
It possesses its own magically expanded world, with various distinct habitats for each creature.
It appears as an ordinary honey-brown suitcase. However, this suitcase was enchanted with a permanent undetectable extension charm, performed by Newt Scamander, and embedded with a "Muggle-Worthy Excuse" device to transform the magical suitcase into a common one to avoid problems between the magical and no-mag societies.
- And that's all I know about the famous Magizoologist Newt Scamander. His expansive suitcase is nowadays considered an artifact of the highest rarity for the wizarding ministry, and yet, no one ever knew his whereabouts, let alone where the various endangered beasts and creatures that lived inside it ended up.
- Wow... That's really great to know. - Harry said, with the woman understanding that he had a great interest in magical creatures, not knowing that he himself had the suitcase magically shrunk and attached to a bracelet on his wrist. - But, what about Nicolau Flamel!? Who was this man, and what makes him so special? - Harry inquired, noticing by the woman's features that even she didn't have extensive knowledge of his biography.
- There are few things I know, as he was never much for interviews and speeches. However, the most important information about him is that he is an extremely skilled French wizard and alchemist, known for producing the Philosopher's Stone, a legendary substance with incredible capabilities.
- Being an incredible six hundred and fifty-seven years old, he owes his longevity to the Elixir of Life, which he and his wife, Perenell, created using the Stone. - Madame Pince explained this as she stood up. - As I said, there are few things I know about him, but the most important, recorded information is this. - She explained with Harry also standing up.
- Anyway, if it's alright with you, come back here at 6 PM, we'll start your first day at work, and I'll instruct you on all your duties. This way, you'll have access to the restricted section and can look up more about Nicolas Flamel, but don't overdo it... there are still professors who might complain, so every book you take out will be under my supervision. - She said, walking away behind three mischievous students who had knocked over some books.
Harry promptly remembered something related to Hagrid, so he called her one last time:
- Irma Pince. - Harry said, seeing her turn in doubt. - Could you tell me if the Philosopher's Stone could be a small object that fits in a pouch the size of our hand?
- Actually, that's exactly how it's described. A medium-sized, scarlet-red stone, somewhat transparent, but with an oppressive power, and to the untrained eye, it could be mistaken for a ruby, incredible, but not as much as this stone and its capabilities. - The librarian replied.
- Alright! Thank you, I'm looking forward to starting work later. - Harry finally said, heading towards the library exit as she chuckled at the young boy-who-lived making a funny bow to her.
[ ... ]
Harry waited outside in the corridor to see if the other two had found anything extra that he hadn't, but didn't have much hope given that he had obtained much better information and opportunities to study what he was seeking.
Five minutes later, Ron and Hermione joined him, shaking their heads negatively. They went to lunch.
- Now that you can access the restricted section, you'll keep looking while I'm away, won't you? - Recommended Hermione. - And send me an owl if you find anything. - She continued, with Ron huffing in not wanting more contact with her than he already had, but Harry found it funny how persistent the girl was in wanting to find out who the vandals that tore the library books were.
- And you could ask your parents if they know who Flamel is - Said Ron. - There wouldn't be any danger in asking them.
- No danger, they're both dentists... so what would they know about someone who's even harder to understand in the Muggle world? - Hermione said sarcastically, making Ron huff in annoyance.
- They're going to date one day. - Harry said to himself, watching their disgusted faces and laughing at their childishness. At least it was better to see such silly arguments than feeling that any of them were jealous of him or the attention.
[ ... ]
Once the holidays started, Ron and Harry were having a blast trying to find information about Flamel, ever since Harry said that Nicolas could turn iron into gold, and the child's eyes practically sparkled. They had the dormitory all to themselves and the common room was much emptier than usual, using the comfortable armchairs by the fireplace. They sat down at every opportunity to roast anything they could on a toasting fork: bread, crumpets, marshmallows, even a huge barbecue that Minerva barred after they almost set the common room on fire with the help of the Weasley twins.
But in the end, they did everything to keep boredom at bay, and Harry's adrenaline was through the roof.
Something great, since with the Weasley twins around, things never got monotonous.
Ron also started teaching Harry how to play wizard's chess. It was exactly like Muggle chess, except the pieces were alive, making it seem like you were directing troops in a battle. Ron's set was very old and worn, like everything else he owned, having once belonged to someone in the family, in this case, his grandfather. However, the age of the pieces was not a hindrance. Ron knew them so well that he never had trouble getting them to do what he wanted.
Harry played with pieces that Seamus Finnigan had lent him, and they didn't trust him at all. He wasn't a good player yet, and they kept shouting various advice, which confused him:
- Don't send me there, can't you see his knight? Send him, we can afford to lose him. - The piece said, making Harry laugh, as months ago this would have seemed completely crazy to him.
- Get out of the way, pawns. - Said the queen, who looked rather muscular and busty. - I have a husband to protect. - She continued, with the king acting embarrassed and his eyes turning into little hearts.
- "This stuff is amazing." - Harry thought to himself, watching the scene the pieces were making.
On Christmas Eve, Harry went to bed thinking anxiously about what he would do, barely remembering presents and everything else. In fact, he had never received one, and now he hardly cared about it, having to resolve some things with Percy and two of his friends, which was his only thought when he got out of bed without Ron's knowledge.
When he woke up early the next morning, the first thing he saw was a small pile of packages at the foot of his bed.
- Merry Christmas. - Said Ron sleepily as Harry jumped out of bed and stretched by the window.
- To you too - Said Harry. - What's this?
- What do you think it is? - Ron replied, turning to his pile, which was much larger than Harry's. - Your presents, obviously.
Harry picked up the top package. It was wrapped in thick brown paper and had scrawled writing: To Harry, from Hagrid.
Inside was a rough wooden flute. It was obvious that Hagrid had carved it himself. Harry blew it, and it sounded a bit like an owl's hoot.
A second, very small package contained a note: Due to Dudley's insistence upon seeing a letter communicating a birthday present to relatives at Hogwarts in return for the gift you sent, we are sending you a present... Merry Christmas. - Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia.
Taped to the note was a fifty-pence piece.
- "Acting like saints now." - Harry thought sarcastically, as it was clear his aunt and uncle didn't want to do this, but they sent something anyway, even if it was minimal.
Ron was fascinated by the fifty-pence piece, as if it were a rare or ancient relic to him:
- How weird. - Said the blue-eyed redhead. - Is this money?
- You can keep it... you told me your dad loves No-Maj things, right? - Harry said, laughing at Ron's satisfaction. - Show it to him someday, maybe I'll send some basic things to your address, I think your dad will love it. - He finished, with Ron happy.
- I think I know who sent this. - Said Ron, blushing a bit and pointing to a misshapen package. - Mum. I told her you weren't expecting presents... Oh, no... - He groaned. - She made you a Weasley coat, I guess she didn't know your measurements, so she must have used my dad as a model. - He explained as Harry unwrapped the paper, finding a black coat with dark red knitting spelling "Potter" on the back. The coat was more like suit fabric and reached his knee, which looked incredible on Harry. - Every year she makes us a sweater... - Said Ron, unwrapping his. - And mine is always brick-colored, yours is the first to look so amazing.
- That was really kind of her. - Said Harry, trying the chocolate bars that came with it, which tasted great to him as they seemed homemade. - Thank her for me.
The next present also contained sweets, a large box of truffles given by Hermione. She had grown to be great friends with Potter, but with Weasley, it seemed more like they hated each other, making Harry laugh as it looked like a future romance.
Only two packages remained. Harry picked up the closest one and felt it, sensing a sort of box inside.
As soon as he opened it, he saw an envelope on top of a slightly large box: Thank you for the gift you sent, I read your letter and noticed you have many recipes from the Muggle world, which will be very helpful in my shop. When you can, come to Hogsmeade, you'll be very welcome at Honeydukes and maybe we can have a butterbeer one day. - From: Amanda Flume.
The card was full of little hearts and a lipstick mark indicating she had kissed it, which only made Potter laugh, as many people aimed to test if he acted shy like an eleven-year-old should, or more mature and older like he presented himself.
One thing that impressed him in this world was that, unlike in the Muggle world, underage students could drink alcoholic beverages as long as they were outside the school's limits.
In the Muggle world, things were quite different, with restrictions ranging from 18 to 22 years.
Putting the letter away, Harry promptly opened the box Amanda had sent him, finding inside some Muggle delicacies she had prepared.
Naturally, Harry shared them with Ron, as the boy had really taken a liking to Muggle delicacies, making Harry quickly notice one last package.
It was very light. He unwrapped it, and something silky and silver slipped to the floor, where it settled in gleaming folds. Ron exclaimed:
- I've heard of this. - He said in a low voice, dropping the box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans Hermione had given him as he suffered from some very bad flavors. - If this is what I think it is, it's really rare and really valuable.
- And what is it? - Harry picked up the shiny, silver fabric from the floor. It had a strange texture, like it was woven with water.
As Harry put it on, Ron let out a yell as Potter's body disappeared, leaving only his floating head.
- I knew it! It's an invisibility cloak... - Ron said, with an expression of awe on his face. - It's very rare and expensive. - The redhead continued, amazed.
Harry looked at his feet, but they had disappeared. He then ran to the mirror. Sure enough, the mirror reflected his image, only his head suspended in the air, the body completely invisible. He covered his head and the image disappeared completely.
This was truly incredible, and he could already imagine how much trouble he would get into with the Weasley twins when they found out about it.
If they already tried to cause chaos with his katana, imagine with an invisibility cloak.
Harry looked down at his feet, but they had disappeared. He then ran to the mirror. Sure enough, the mirror reflected his image, with only his head suspended in the air, the rest of his body completely invisible. He covered his head, and the image disappeared completely.
This was truly incredible, and he could already imagine the mischief he and the Weasley twins would get up to once they found out about it.
If they were already trying to cause chaos with his Katana, imagine what they could do with an invisibility cloak.
- There's a card... - Said Ron suddenly, uncertain of where Harry was. - A card fell.
Harry took off the cloak and picked up the card. Written in fine, elegant handwriting that he had never seen before were the following words: Your father left this with me before he went on his next great adventure. It is time to return it to you now that you are of age and responsible enough. Use it well, and have a very Merry Christmas.
There was no signature. Harry stared at the card. Ron admired the cloak while wearing it, which covered his entire body and sprawled out on the floor.
- I'd give anything to have one of these. Anything... What's wrong? - Ron said excitedly, only to see his friend's quiet state.
- Nothing. - Harry felt very strange. Who had sent the cloak? Had it really belonged to his father? And before he could say or think anything else, the dormitory door burst open with Fred and George Weasley bursting in. Harry quickly looked at Ron, but he had already disappeared under the cloak.
- Happy Christmas, noble Lord Potter! - Both shouted excitedly.
- Hey, look at that, Harry got a Weasley coat. - Said George, noticing a suspicious "W" on the collar of the coat. Fred and George were wearing blue sweaters, one with a large "F", the other with a "G".
- But Harry's is better than ours. - Commented Fred, lifting Harry's coat. - She definitely puts more effort if the person isn't family.
Harry, seeing George beside him, quickly saw his hair being tousled, then looked back and punched into the air, followed by a thud and a groan:
- Ron! - Harry said to the spot where he heard the impact, then felt the fabric and pulled, making the twins' eyes light up.
- NO WAY! - Fred and George said in unison, catching Harry's attention. - It's an invisibility cloak.
- It's not just any cloak, Forge... - George said, ignoring the red-headed younger brother sprawled on the floor.
- It's the cloak one of the Marauders used, Gred. - Fred continued, ignoring the punch he gave his brother.
- Marauders? - Harry asked, not understanding.
- Don't you know? It was the quartet your dad formed with his friends... The Marauders are like gods to us, and here is one of the tools most used by James Potter. - One of the redheads said while wearing the cloak and becoming ecstatic as everything below his neck disappeared.
- Wow, Harry! First an accelerated metabolism, then a sword, with that a Muggle-Worthy Excuse suitcase, and now an invisibility cloak. - George said quietly while watching Ron jump onto the bed.
- Whatever happens! If you discover more things, call us immediately. - Fred said, giving the cloak to George to try on.
- Alright! It was a surprise to discover it too, and I barely know who sent it as a present, only that my father gave it to him before his death. - Harry said, understanding both twins.
- Why aren't you wearing your sweater? - Asked George. - Come on, put it on, they're great and warm. - The redhead said to his younger brother, who tried to escape his brother's grip after taking a punch from one of them.
- I hate brick color. - Ron lamented, dejectedly putting on the sweater.
- At least you don't have a letter on yours. - Commented George. - She must think you'll forget your name. But we're not dumb, we know we're called George and Fred.
The commotion caused by the twins in the room soon drew attention from outside the dormitory, and the door burst open:
What is all this noise, for Merlin's sake!? - Percy Weasley poked his head inside the door, looking disapproving and purely sleepy or hungover. It was clear he had already unwrapped half of his presents because he was also wearing a thick sweater around his neck, which Fred quickly grabbed without noticing the lipstick mark on his older brother's neck, something Harry did notice, giving a mischievous smile at the prefect who blushed understanding that Harry knew what they did last night with those two Slytherin girls.
- P for Prefect! Put it on, Percy, we're all wearing ours, even Harry got one.
- I... Don't... Want. - Percy said in a broken voice, one hand on his head feeling the headache from his pure hangover, while the twins forced the sweater over his head, twisting his glasses.
- And you're not sitting with the prefects today. - Said George, grabbing his older brother by the right arm.
- Christmas is a family celebration. - Fred finished, grabbing the older brother by the left arm, and with that, they both dragged Percy out of the room.
- They get a bit excited at Christmas... sorry about the scene. - Ron said, embarrassed.
- Actually, I liked it, at least I know your Christmas is never sad or boring. - Saying this, Harry remembered a past Christmas, making him touch his chest, where he had a scar covered by the dark shirt and the coat he was gifted.
[ ... ]
Harry had never had a Christmas lunch like that in his life. A hundred roast fat turkeys, mountains of roast and boiled potatoes, platters of sausages, tureens of buttered peas, gravy boats with cranberry sauce thick and well-seasoned, and at small intervals on the table, piles of wizard crackers.
These magical crackers were nothing like the weak Muggle ones the Dursleys usually bought, filled with plastic toys and flimsy paper hats. Harry pulled a wizard cracker with Fred, and it didn't just pop; it exploded with the sound of a cannon and enveloped them in a cloud of blue smoke, out of which fell an admiral's hat and several live white mice. At the main table, Dumbledore had traded his wizard hat for a flowered bonnet and was laughing heartily at the joke Professor Flitwick had just read to him.
Flaming Christmas puddings followed the turkey. Percy nearly broke his teeth on a silver sickle that was hidden in his slice. Harry watched Hagrid's face get redder and redder as he drank more wine and ended up kissing Professor McGonagall on the cheek, who, to Harry's astonishment, giggled and blushed, her witch hat askew on her head.
When Harry finally left the table, he was carrying a mountain of toys from the crackers, including a packet of non-explodable, luminous balloons, a grow-your-own-hyacinth kit, and a wizard chess set. The white mice had disappeared, and Harry had the unpleasant feeling that they would end up as Christmas dinner for Mrs. Norris.
Harry and the Weasleys spent a very merry afternoon having a furious snowball fight. Later, cold, wet, and breathless, they returned to the Gryffindor common room, where Harry debuted his new chess set, losing spectacularly to Ron. He suspected he wouldn't have taken such a beating if Percy hadn't tried to help him so much.
After snacking on turkey sandwiches, cakes, jelly, and fruitcake, everyone felt too full and sleepy to do anything but sit and watch Percy chase Fred and George all over the Gryffindor tower because they had stolen his prefect badge.
It was turning out to be the best Christmas of Harry's life. However, something had been bothering him all day. Only when he finally lay down did he have time to think about it—the invisibility cloak and the person who had sent it.
Ron, full of turkey and cake and with no mystery to trouble him, fell asleep as soon as he drew the curtains of his four-poster bed. Harry leaned over the edge of his bed and pulled out the cloak he had hidden there.
From his father... It had been his father's. He let the fabric slip through his hands, softer than silk, lighter than air. Strangely, it had no runes drawn on it as the information about rare invisibility cloaks suggested it should. It was large like a blanket, but to his surprise, he discovered it could act as a cloak or even a coat if he wished.
- "Use it well." - The card said, with no indication of a name. He had to try it now. He got out of bed and wrapped himself in the cloak. Looking down at his legs, he saw only moonlight and shadows.
It was a very funny feeling, but he knew he would get used to it.
- Use it well. - Harry murmured, and suddenly, Harry felt completely awake. All of Hogwarts was open to him with this cloak. He felt a surge of excitement standing there in the silent darkness. He could go anywhere with the cloak, anywhere, and Filch would never know.
Ron mumbled in his sleep. Should Harry wake him?
But something stopped him; the cloak was his father's, and he felt that this time, for the first time, he wanted to use it alone.
He sneaked out of the dormitory, down the stairs, through the common room, and out of the portrait hole.
- Who's there? - Asked the Fat Lady in a high-pitched voice. Harry didn't answer. He hurried down the corridor. Where should he go? He stopped, heart pounding, and thought. Then it occurred to him.
With this, he could go to Hogsmeade without needing permission, which McGonagall had promptly denied until he started his third year.
He could sneak into the restricted section, now that Irma Pince was on vacation and the place was closed to everyone.
Logically, he could try this when he was back at work, but his desire for something to break the boredom spoke louder.
He could read for as long as he wanted, as long as it took to discover who Flamel was. So, wishing for the cloak to turn into a coat, he felt it adjust to his body, disappearing completely without the need to cover himself with it like a blanket.
The library was pitch dark and very strange. Harry lit the tip of his wand with Lumos, and although Harry felt his arm holding the light in his path, that sight gave him chills.
The restricted section was at the very back of the library. Cautiously jumping the rope that separated these books from the rest of the library, he raised the light to read the titles.
They didn't tell him much. Their faded, peeling letters formed words in languages Harry didn't understand. Some didn't even have titles. One book had a dark stain that horribly reminded him of blood. The hairs on the back of Harry's neck stood up. Maybe it was his imagination, maybe not, but he thought he heard a faint whisper coming from the books, as if they knew there was someone there who shouldn't be.
He needed to start somewhere.
He saw books of all sorts, but one caught his attention:
It was dark blue, like the night sky filled with stars, with an embedded lion seeming to hold a luminous stone.
- The Awakening of Animagi. - Harry read the cover, finding it interesting.
- "Well, it doesn't hurt to keep this for a while." - Harry thought, taking the book and putting it inside his Muggle-Worthy Excuse suitcase, aiming to master the expansion and reduction charm to always keep it with him.
He then continued looking on the lower shelf for an interesting book. A large black and silver volume caught his eye. He pulled it out with effort, as it was very heavy, balancing it on his knees, and let it open at random.
A blood-curdling scream shattered the silence; the book was screaming! Harry quickly shut it, but the scream didn't stop, a high, continuous note, piercing his eardrums. He stumbled backward. In a panic, he heard footsteps coming from the corridor outside. Shoving the screaming book back in place, he ran for it. He passed Filch almost at the door. Filch's pale, wide eyes stared through him as Harry slipped under his outstretched arms, still invisible, and sped down the corridor, the book's screams still echoing in his ears.
He stopped suddenly in front of a tall suit of armor. He had been so busy escaping the library that he hadn't paid attention to where he was going. Maybe because it was dark, he didn't even recognize where he was. There was an armor near the kitchens, he knew, but he must be about five floors up.
- You asked me to come straight to you, professor, if anyone was wandering around at night, and someone was in the library, in the restricted section. - Harry felt the blood drain from his face. Wherever he was, Filch must have known a shortcut, because his low, oily voice was getting closer.
And to his horror, it was Snape who replied:
- The restricted section? Well, they can't be far, we'll catch them. - Harry stood still where he was as Filch and Snape turned the corner of the corridor ahead. They couldn't see him, of course, but it was a narrow corridor, and if they got much closer, they would bump into him; the cloak didn't stop him from being solid.
He backed away as silently as he could. There was a door ajar to his left. It was his only hope. He slipped through it, holding his breath, trying not to push it, and to his relief, he got into the room without being noticed. They passed by, and Harry leaned against the wall, breathing deeply, listening to their footsteps fade away. It was close, too close. Several seconds passed before he noticed something in the room where he had hidden.
It looked like a disused 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 seem to belong there, something that looked as if someone had just put it there to get 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 on the top:
- Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi. - Harry read, carved at the top.
Now free from panic, not hearing any sign of Filch and Snape, Harry approached the mirror, wanting to reveal himself without seeing any image as before. He stepped forward to the mirror.
He turned. His heart was pounding much harder than when the book had screamed, because he hadn't only seen his own reflection in the mirror, but a whole crowd of people standing behind him.
But the room was empty. Breathing very fast, he turned slowly back to the mirror.
There he was, or a younger version of himself being reflected, looking thin and scared, and there they were, reflected behind him, at least a dozen other people were visible. Harry peered over his shoulder, but no one else 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 all, invisible or not?
He looked into the mirror again. A woman slightly older than him stood just behind his reflection, smiling and waving at him. He reached out and felt the air behind him. If she were really there, he would have touched her, as their images were very close, but he grasped only air; she and the others existed only in the mirror. She was a very beautiful woman who seemed to be about twenty years old.
She had red hair and eyes...
- "The eyes are just like mine." - Harry thought, moving a little closer to the mirror. - "Bright green... Exactly the same shape." - Then he noticed she was crying, smiling, but crying at the same time. The tall, thin man with messy hair standing next to her hugged her. He wore glasses, and his brown hair was very unruly, sticking up at the back like Harry's before he cut it, almost like a version of himself... just a bit happier if Harry could say so.
Harry was so close to the mirror now that his nose was almost touching his childlike reflection, which he hadn't noticed since he was seven.
- Mom? - He murmured strangely. - Dad? - They just looked at him, smiling, and slowly Harry looked at the faces of the other people in the mirror.
Harry was looking at his family for the first time in his life. There was an older man with a powerful look holding a cloak identical to his, another older man with a kind of reddish hat, a blonde woman with blue eyes, the next a handsome man with long hair and a well-groomed beard, the next had light hair and blue eyes, with a man of apparent similar age and round glasses hugging her, the next looked like a diplomat in a suit with well-combed hair, hugging a beautiful redhead waving at him, but what surprised him was the next, a man with an identical appearance to his, with the only difference being the eyes and long hair, and next to him was a woman with an stoic gaze and beautiful face with long brown hair, and finally his parents at the front.
The Potters smiled and waved at Harry, and he returned their needy look, his hands pressing against the mirror as if hoping to step through it and reach them. For indeed nothing held him to this side when he could just step through and embark on a new great adventure. He felt a strong pain in his chest as his hand struck the mirror, preventing him from crossing to the other side, and from the sad look of his relatives, they were disappointed with this too.
His mind was filled with memories of all the abuse, all the pain, and all the wounds he had suffered in this life. He wondered if things might have been different had his parents been by his side.
Many people would use the excuse that without their difficult childhood or life complications, they wouldn't be where they are today, but Harry thought differently. For him, there was no problem in not having difficulties in life and waiting to see where that would lead. In some universe, it could be that he was loved and completely dependent on his parents, born into wealth and perhaps even spoiled, and to him, there was nothing wrong with that, as everyone has their own development, and being spoiled was far better than being abused.
He didn't know how long he had been standing there. The images didn't fade, and he continued staring at them until a distant noise brought him back to the present. He couldn't stay there; he had to find his way back to bed. With effort, he tore his eyes away from his mother's face, whispering "I'll be back", and hurried out of the room.
[ ... ]
- You could have woken me up! - Ron said, annoyed.
- You can come tonight. I'm going back, I want to show you the mirror. - Harry replied after explaining everything he had seen during the night.
- I'd like to see your mom and dad. - Ron said, excited.
- And I want to see your whole family, all the Weasleys. You can show me your other brothers and everyone when we get the chance.
- You can see them anytime. Just come to my house this summer. Well, whatever, maybe the mirror only shows dead people. But it's a pity you didn't find Flamel. Have some bacon or something, why aren't you eating anything? - Harry couldn't eat. He had seen his parents and would see them again that night, and for the first time, he felt an uncomfortable sensation with the harsh reality that he was going to see his relatives, but dead. He almost forgot about Flamel; it no longer seemed as important.
Who cared who the lunatic was that simply gave him a suitcase full of mythical and rare creatures?
Who cared about the Animagus book he had dropped in the mirror room?
All that seemed to matter was to return immediately to that room and forever look at his family in the mirror, even if it seemed completely wrong and unhealthy if any external eyes noticed.
- Are you okay? - Ron asked. - You look so strange... Like you're angry or hating someone. - Ron continued, worried and apprehensive about the sudden change in Harry's demeanor.
Yes, Harry definitely had anger, definitely had rage, and it was directed at his uncles...
Oh, how he cursed their luck for having Dudley as their son, otherwise Harry would never have contacted those garbage people again, or much worse.
However, what Harry feared most was not being able to find the mirror room again. With Ron also covered by the cloak, they had to walk much more slowly the next night. They tried to retrace Harry's steps from leaving the library, wandering through the dark corridors for almost an hour.
- I'm telling you... - Ron said. - Let's forget everything and go back.
- No. - Harry hissed with a slightly glazed look that scared the redhead. - I know it's around here somewhere.
They passed the ghost of a tall, beautiful witch gliding in the opposite direction; Harry swore he had seen her in some book he found with some Ravenclaw friends.
Yes, that was the ghost of Helena Ravenclaw, or commonly known as the Grey Lady... As much as Harry wanted to chat with her, he had things to do.
By the time Ron began complaining that his feet were numb with cold, Harry finally identified the suit of armor.
- It's here... right here... it is. - Harry said excitedly or even with apparent dependency on finding the place as he pushed open the door.
Harry let the cloak fall from his shoulders and ran to the mirror.
There they were. His mother and father smiled at him. Along with at least a dozen other people behind them, all with Potter features or what he imagined were ancient relatives he would never have the chance to meet.
- Do you see them? - Harry whispered.
- I can't see anything. - The redhead said, looking over Harry's shoulder.
- Look! Look at all of them... There, lots of them. - Harry said while seeing the image of his mother shaking her head, as if that was wrong and he didn't understand what the mirror represented.
- I can only see you, and man... you need to shave. I think you talked about this mirror all day; it seems kind of strange. - Ron said, with Harry narrowing his eyes at the suggestion that he was becoming some fanatic or something.
- Look properly, come on, stand where I am. - Harry said, pulling him to his spot.
Harry stepped back, but with Ron in front of the mirror, he could no longer see his family, only Ron in his plaid pajamas.
Ron, however, was staring at his own reflection, petrified.
- Look at me! - Ron exclaimed excitedly.
- Are you seeing your whole family around you? - Harry tried to imagine if that was it.
- No, I'm alone, but I look different... Older, taller, stronger... and with a head boy badge from Hogwarts. - The redhead explained, seeing a reflection of himself older, wearing a sports uniform, holding a Nimbus 2000, and what seemed like many girls admiring him.
- What? - Harry asked.
- I'm... I'm wearing a badge like Bill's... And I'm holding the House Cup and a Nimbus 2000. I'm also the captain of the Quidditch team. - Ron tore his eyes away from this magnificent vision to excitedly look at Harry as if they had found a treasure. - Do you think this mirror shows the future?
- How could it? My family's all dead. Let me have another look. - Harry said, wanting to step forward.
- You had the mirror to yourself last night, let me look a bit more. - The redhead complained, his gaze sharpening in challenge, which made Harry narrow his eyes too, only now noticing something different about the place.
- You're just holding the Quidditch Cup, what's so interesting about that? I want to see my parents. - Potter complained, stepping forward and standing superior to the redhead.
- Don't push me... - Ron said, trying to push Harry but failing, as Harry was much bigger, only making him laugh, along with the image of his family who seemed to see them and find amusement in it and the discord that was beginning.
A sudden noise outside the corridor ended their argument. They hadn't realized how loudly they were talking.
- Quick! - Harry said urgently, picking up the book he had lost the previous night. - Under the cloak.
Ron dove under the cloak Harry opened to cover them just as Mrs. Norris's glowing eyes appeared at the door. Ron and Harry stood still, both thinking the same thing, did the cloak work on cats? After a time that seemed like an eternity, she turned and left.
- This is dangerous. She might have gone to fetch Filch, I bet she heard us. Let's go. - And Ron pulled Harry out of the room, where they both passed together by the mirror, unable to see the malicious and even psychotic look of the reflections of Harry's relatives and Quidditch captain Ron.
Something that if they had noticed, they might have realized that talking about the mirror, thinking about the mirror, and wanting to keep staring into it was something that would only trap them there until they withered in envy, sadness, and disillusionment, completely consuming them from within.
For the owner of such a mirror was not present and knew well that such an artifact makes the subjects watch it, showing them their most intimate desires, trapping them in this illusion experienced in the reflection, thus abandoning their social, professional, and romantic lives, to the point where they would finally be "sucked" by the mirror, which would actually be them dying disillusioned with life or trapped in their mental miseries.
[ ... ]
The snow still hadn't melted the next morning. Harry woke up well this time. He had loved seeing what his family looked like, but along with that came the piercing pain of knowing he would never see them physically.
He truly wanted to have a family, but it seemed that would never be possible.
- Want to play chess, Harry? - Ron invited.
- No. - Harry declined without giving much attention, his thoughts stuck on the mirror.
- Why don't we go down to visit Hagrid? - The redhead tried.
- No... You go ahead. - He thought about what he might try to talk to his family about that night.
- I know what you're thinking, Harry, about that mirror. Don't go back there tonight, we almost fought yesterday... and it felt strange when we left.
- I've got a bad feeling, and anyway you've had too many close shaves. Filch, Snape, and Mrs. Norris are wandering around there. So what if they can't see you? What if they bump into you? What if you knock something over?
- Look at you... - Harry said with an accusatory smile. - You say you hate Hermione, but you're talking just like her. - Harry said smugly.
- I'm serious. Harry, don't go. - But Harry had only one thought in his head, to return to the mirror.
And it wasn't entirely his fault, for Harry's greatest desire reflected in the mirror affected him deeply emotionally, well, at least compared to the greatest desire of an eleven-year-old boy who wanted to be recognized, making Potter's traumas speak louder and deluding him into thinking something could get better if he kept talking to the dead.
[ ... ]
That Friday night after Christmas, Harry aimed to return to the spot, finding the way even quicker than before. He walked so quickly he knew he was making more noise than was sensible, but he didn't encounter anyone.
And there they were, his mother and father smiling at him again, and one of his grandparents nodded happily. Harry stood in front of the mirror.
He saw that his parents looked just a bit older than he did now, suggesting that his mother had conceived him young and, unfortunately, died very young as well.
Nothing could stop him from standing there all night with his family, maybe the whole week or until the holidays ended. He even imagined asking Minerva to let him stay in the castle after classes ended, so he wouldn't have to leave his relatives. Yes... nothing would make him leave that mirror.
Except...
- So, here again, Harry? - He heard a raspy voice after the sound of a whip. - Harry felt his stomach clench. He looked behind him. Sitting at one of the tables against the wall was none other than Albus Dumbledore.
He didn't know how the man had gotten there, but he certainly wasn't there when Harry had entered the room.
Even so, this didn't affect Harry's expression, who promptly replied:
- I didn't see you.
- Of course not. I just apparated here. - The old man said with a smile, and Harry realized it was his first time talking to the headmaster.
He noticed the huge window behind the old man and finally realized that this was the castle's astronomy tower.
Harry wondered why he had let all this pass when he was usually so attentive to everything around him, and now he was theorizing why he was acting so carelessly coming here, which definitely wouldn't be typical of him.
- So... - Dumbledore continued, sliding off the chair to the floor to look into the mirror. There he saw two teenagers exchanging green spells connected to each other, and in the distance, a blonde with blue eyes seemed to be screaming while extending her hands and pushing with a dark mist the two teenagers, with the double green beams advancing directly toward her. - You, like hundreds before you, have discovered the delights of the Mirror of Erised.
- I didn't know it was called that, headmaster. - Harry responded, curious about what the headmaster had seen to make him look so melancholic.
- But I hope by now you realize what it does? - The old man asked, turning to Harry, who, much to Dumbledore's surprise, was staring at him eye to eye with what should have been one of his eleven-year-old students.
- Well... it shows me my family. - Harry began, seeing in the old man's eyes that he didn't want such an answer.
- And it showed Mr. Weasley as head boy. - Dumbledore concluded.
- How did you know? - Harry asked.
- I don't need a cloak to become invisible. - Dumbledore said gently. - Now, can you conclude 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 answered slowly:
- It shows us what we want... Whether it's impossible or not.
- Yes and no... - Said Dumbledore. - It shows us nothing more or less than the deepest, most desperate desires of our hearts.
- You, who never knew your family, see them standing around you.
- Ronald Weasley, who has always been overshadowed by his brothers, sees himself standing alone, better than all of them.
- However, the mirror does not give us 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 that you not go looking for it again. 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 back to bed like all good boys and girls? - The old man said gently, though Harry still wanted one last look at his parents, under the headmaster's watchful eye.
- It is truly fascinating what has happened to your body. - Dumbledore said about Harry's accelerated metabolism. - I imagine you became a bit of a celebrity at your Muggle school? Who knows how many girls are fascinated by you, surely you'll break a lot of hearts in the future. - He said with a laugh to break the tension.
- There's nothing special about me. - Harry immediately responded to the headmaster's remarks, surprising him with the change in tone.
- Is there a problem, Harry? - Dumbledore asked, puzzled.
- Why did you leave me with the Dursleys... Couldn't you have left me in any orphanage... Any place would have been better than that. - Harry said with some bitterness, for this old man was telling him to abandon his beautiful illusion to live a miserable life for which he was partly responsible.
- I thought removing you from a society at war would make you a better person, I mean... it's not good for a child to live in constant pampering and fame.
- You're avoiding the question! Why did you choose to leave me with the Dursleys? - Harry asked, feeling a tingling in his right arm.
- Why did you choose not to visit me to see if I was alright? - Harry said this time, while touching his arm, feeling his wand, which he hadn't used since leaving Ollivanders.
- What kind of guardian abandons a child in the dark? - With that, Harry noticed the irritated face of his parents' reflection in the mirror.
- You, who claim to be so wise, don't even know what happened to me in this wretched life. - With a serious and irritated tone, Harry spoke quickly, cutting off any explanation from the headmaster, seeing a shocked look on his mother's reflection, as if she felt the pain of him saying that about his own life.
- So tell me! Why now do you want to act all kind and responsible? - With that, Harry turned to the old man who stared at him, not knowing what to say.
- I look at your face, and just knowing you abandoned me without a shred of doubt in that hellish place, I already feel anger being in your presence... - Harry continued, face to face with the headmaster, who looked into his eyes, those eyes shining brightly in emerald green by the moonlight. - And it only gets worse when day after day, unfortunately, I see that look of yours on me, so tell me?
- Harry! I understand you went through hardships, and isolation from the wizarding world doesn't help at all..., or maybe the mirror is clouding your thoughts, it's okay, I've been through that, but... - Dumbledore tried to continue, only for Harry to let out an ironic laugh.
- Do you really understand? - Harry said, moving towards the window where he was more illuminated by the moonlight, unbuttoning his shirt with a slight bubbling sensation on his skin, soon revealing countless scars. Though they seemed to have shrunk due to Harry's accelerated metabolism, they were still horrible and grotesque. - Do you understand what it's like to be brutally beaten when you're just a defenseless little boy? - Harry continued ironically.
- Do you understand what it's like to be left starving all summer because your uncles went on vacation? - This time he said, pretending the headmaster was someone who had truly experienced his pain.
- Do you understand what it's like for your body to be on the brink of life and death, growing rapidly and painfully for some bizarre reason no one knows? - Harry said, remembering the incident when his uncles were away.
- Do you understand what it's like for your uncles to discover this and practically sell you to a neighbor, forcing you to work to support yourself and not starve because you looked like an adult and could support yourself like one? - Harry spoke quickly, not giving the headmaster a chance to interrupt his emotional outburst.
- Do you understand what it's like for this woman to sexually abuse you because of an accelerated metabolism that makes you look as beautiful as a grown-up? Do you know how it screws with someone's mind and makes me every night plan different ways to murder each one of them, just to give me some mental relief?
- Do you understand what it's like for your childish mind to be destroyed by forcing it to mature in understanding this rotten, pathetic world?
- Do you understand what it's like to have your innocence taken away by two bastards who sold you to a woman who only wants to take advantage of your body without shame or common sense? Just because that slutty bitch couldn't find a decent man to fuck, so she decided to get it on with a child?
- Do you really understand how I was forced to learn Kenjutsu and buy a katana, only to threaten anyone who forced me to do anything? - Harry said, seeing the personification of his parents in the mirror, an image that showed everyone horrified by what they were hearing.
- Do you really understand what I've been feeling for years?
- And in the end to find out that... that after all that, after everything I've been through in this miserable life, you were still embezzling money from my witchy inheritance to keep those pig bastards with their pockets full while I starved in the street, was raped by a bitch and was still forced to get my own job, all before I was fucking eleven years old!?
- And now you want to take away the only thing that makes me happy about seeing my parents, because I didn't even know how they died until months ago.
- Come on, you dirty, decrepit old fool! Don't come near me thinking that I'm going to look at you and see you as a wise and honorable wizard, with that facade of a kind grandfather... because to me you're just another one of those fucking bastards who don't deserve any fucking trust.
- Harry... me! - Dumbledore tried to say, but soon Harry interrupted with tears falling from his eyes, but he didn't stop saying everything he felt, which was very strange, because he never imagined that he would expose such things, and perhaps it wasn't even his decision, since in the end it all came out only because of the feeling of risk of not being able to see his family in the reflection of Erised mirror. - ... I'm sorry! - Dumbledore had said at first when he had run up to the young man and held him by both arms. - I won't say that I understand your pain... because that would clearly be a lie, and all I want less than your distrust.
- But tell me! Please tell me what I can do to make it up to you or reassure you. - Albus had said it sincerely with a sense of panic and danger flooding his being, a sense of mortal danger and worse, that he would never be able to make amends for his mistakes and sins.
Harry was now staring at him seriously, but his eyes were only red from crying uncontrollably. He disentangled himself from the old man's hands and walked back towards the mirror.
- There are two things to do... - Harry said seriously. - But you'll have to promise to do them... Otherwise, I'll never trust anything that comes from you again. - He said, not looking at the old man, but paying full attention to the sad, heavy look that had settled on all his relatives in the reflection of the mirror after Harry's outburst.
- First: He will give up possession of the Mirror of Ojesed, and donate it to the Potter family in the safe deposit box of the Gringotes Bank of Great Britain, where I will make very good use of it, and if I wither to death in front of him, that's my problem and at least it was my decision. - Harry had said this to the Headmaster's surprise, but the look on Harry's face was clearly one of order.
And in order to win Potter's trust, he would have to make such requests.
- The second: I want my emancipation from the wizard guardians... - Harry had said ironically, because he knew he had cornered the old man into something, he knew he wouldn't get it easily, but it was good to sell your product at a high price, because then the deal could be minimized, but still at a price that Potter would win.
- Harry! Wizards can't be emancipated at that age. - Dumbledore had said, trying to convince Harry.
- I had already imagined that. That's why I want you, as Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Magic, Leader of the Light, Supreme Head of the Wizarding World Confederation and my magical guardian, to transcribe a petition with your best dissertation and requests that I have full access to my inheritance. That in your utmost confidence, you believe that I am responsible enough to take charge of such affairs and bring back the honor of the Potter family that has been stagnant since the end of the last war. - Finally, Harry said as he turned to the old man, a smile on his lips. - And also that all of this be kept under my jurisdiction in your complete confidence, with no chance of the Ministry of Magic or any high-ranking political member contesting such acts and requests with bribes or corruption, since interference from such echelons would compromise clear rules and treaties of peace between the Ministry of Magic and the Goblin faction, at the risk of war. - Harry didn't know if they could hear him from the mirror, but each one's image acted out what Harry and Dumbledore were discussing, and some seemed proud of the courage of Harry's ultimatum to the principal.
- Is that really what you want? So I can gain your trust? - Dumbledore asked. - And not just by words, but by your trust that I'm not some Machiavellian villain or specimen of a dark lord hidden by facades of Lord of Light titles?
- My trust can't be bought... but if you fulfill these two requests of mine, and depending on whether our relationship is friendly or conflictual... You may get my trust... one day, but in the end, yeah, I think I can get by with looking at you as a good guy rather than a bad guy, as long as I don't make a bad slip. - Harry had explained to the principal with a victorious laugh, who had promptly seen him off, knowing that there was nothing he could do about Harry's ultimatum and that he would have to go through a lot of processes to get it right.
Seeing that he was alone, Harry couldn't help but sigh in relief, either at the calm that came with the principal's departure or the silence of finally being able to talk to his family in the mirror again.
Harry was even going to pay one last great attention to the personified image of his family.
But then a voice burst into his mind:
- "Revelio" - a thick, familiar voice from his photographic memory announced in his mind.
- Revelio. - Harry dictated a spell he had recently read, and unconsciously his arm reached out with his wand to a table in the room.
Or so he believed, for soon a blonde woman appeared in the usual Muggle garb of jeans and a black tank top.
She was clearly cold from the icy breeze, but what Harry found most strange was the fact that only a few minutes ago she had been a green beetle.
- Who are you? - Harry asked, afraid of what she had heard, and especially of what a floating quill was furiously writing down on a pad of paper.
His wand was in hand, but Harry knew he couldn't do anything great, since he didn't have any powerful spells to duel with, only basic ones from his first year books.
- Ah... I've been discovered. - The woman said embarrassed. - Nice to meet you, I'm Rita Skeeter, general reporter for the Daily Prophet. - She continued as she feigned excitement to greet Harry with a kiss on the cheek. - Don't look at me like that! I was going to introduce myself just before the director showed up... but look! I've already got a great story on my hands. - She said happily, but soon Harry had approached her while touching the scabbard of his katana, making his warning clear.
- Say anything, and I'll be happy to expose that an illegal animal has invaded the school, especially a floor forbidden even to staff. - Harry said, staring her in the eye in defiance. - What do you think is worse, me being put in detention for playing out of turn in the castle, or a year in Azkaban for illegal Animagia? - It was clear to Potter that he wasn't at all afraid of appealing to his fame and screwing over this woman who was threatening to expose his childhood.
- All right, relax... Only a madman would want to be against the boy-who-lived... or should I say the Man-Who-Lived. - She joked mischievously under Potter's emotionless gaze, who pointed at the notepad. - I'll keep it a secret, because I liked the way you spoke to the old man. - Rita said as if they were friends. - But in order to do that, you'll have to give me a full interview, as I planned to do from the start. - She continued as she pulled two tables closer to them with her wand, setting fire to the old notes scribbled by the floating quill.
[ ... ]
It had been a long time since Harry's interview with the supposed reporter from the Daily Prophet began.
Harry, who was no fool, promptly tried to handle it well, so as not to expose what he had heard during his discussion with the principal.
Everything went well, with her asking about Harry's classes and how he was different from the first-years.
It was a lot of bold questions that made Harry laugh at the way she worked, so they both started walking around Hogwarts while talking to her bewitched quill that wrote everything down.
It was around eleven at night, and Harry wasn't one for parties and festivities. This made him forget that there was going to be a fireworks display at the castle in front of the huge lake.
Something that Fred and George aimed to set up for the students and staff who were at the school to enjoy.
But what Potter didn't understand was the burning in his arm, not external, but as if his wand stuck there was causing something in the nerves and muscles of his arm.
He felt slightly dizzy and even hot inside.
He had felt it first when Ron had told him not to look for Erised mirror, then when he had lost control in the argument with Dumbledore, and now... Just now, when he saw Rita staring out at the huge lake, seeming to be amused by what she had read that his rapidly-quoted quill had written, with her correcting a few things.
It seemed that something was stirring in Harry's mind, something that made him feel dizzy, but at the same time, well.
Only then, when the Hogwarts clock struck midnight, did the exact New Year's Eve begin.
When the first flare went up in the sky, George and Fred flew over on their broomsticks in pure euphoria.
Just as a few dozen students and staff left the castle to watch the show, Harry finally saw his body acting uncontrollably.
He slowly approached Rita, who was staring at the fireworks, her breathing a little ragged as an icy vapor came out of her mouth due to the low temperature of the night.
Only then did he finally touch her shoulder, getting her attention, only to be taken by surprise when Potter crashed his lips against hers.
In that place, no one could see them because they were taller than the others, and Harry made no effort to explore the woman's mouth, having the same feeling as when he was sexually abused by a neighbor, in which his uncles practically sold him.
The feeling of control he had in the face of someone trying to use him, the feeling of not wanting to leave anyone in charge, especially knowing that this woman could be a major headache with whatever she decided to write about him, he and he alone being the one who wanted and currently dominated the situation for his own good.
However, not in the way he had felt in the past, but with a new feeling that took him by surprise, and he didn't know how to act except to respond to Potter's completely intense kiss.
He touched her part by part, as he unbuttoned the overcoat he had lent her because of the cold, as he felt the softness of her skin.
Only then did he notice how beautiful this woman was. How intense her eyes looked because of the emerald glow that appeared there for a few seconds, then returned to her natural blue.
Harry didn't know how, but the woman's eyes resembled his own, and all he could do was think about everything while his body acted on its own, making the best of all the reciprocity on the part of the woman, who now aimed to run her hands under Harry's shirt, while studying his body part by part with her hands.
Harry wanted very much to continue with this, where just when he was about to take a step forward, she aimed to interrupt:
- Wait... - Rita said when she noticed that a group of seventh graders had noticed them. - Not here. - This time she said quickly as she grabbed her notebook, clinging to Potter by the arm while his invisibility cloak floated above them both.
[ ... ]
Harry saw her quickly proclaim something, which made him notice a sort of intangible barrier covering his bed before disappearing completely.
She immediately fell on top of him, while aiming to attack his mouth.
- You've messed with the wrong woman, Mr. Potter. No amount of common sense or rules is going to stop me from doing anything. - She said euphorically, pinning him against the bed.
Then Harry and Rita's eyes met in a mutual emerald tone. He didn't like the feeling of being pinned down at all, and soon reversed their positions, pinning her against the bed and attacking her lips.
Part 02 in the next chapter due to the word limit of the chapter post.