home (reader at hogwarts)

sixty nine

as you slip out from under the cloak, darkness threatens to swallow the pair of you whole. you grasp the handle of your wand and tug it out from the band of your loose night trousers.

lifting it and holding it low between the pair of you, you whisper "lumos," and the tip burns intensely for a moment before simmering down to a gentle glow.

"flitwick teach you that?" harry asks. you shake your head.

"my father did." you lift your wand up to the shelves around you and read the plauques plastered onto the walls.

"what are we looking for, again?" you whisper.

he steps forwards beside you, rubbing at one of the plaques to read the words 'victoriously violent' etched into its copper base.

"flamel. or anything to do with him." he tells you, his green eyes flickering between the spines of books in front of you.

"let's look in 'f'." you suggest and harry lets you lead the way as you wander down aisles towards books written by authors with the initial's f.

the light shines dimly across what seems to be hundreds of books. you and harry reach the aisle you're looking for before he starts to pick books up.

you know what's coming, so you brace yourself for it.

harry's hand brushes over the cover of a large black and silver volume which seems to have caught his eye. he balances the heavy book on his knees and slips his palm between the pages to force it open.

a piercing, blood-curdling shriek splits the silence between you- the book begins screaming! harry snaps it shut, looking over at you with wide eyes and stumbles backwards, knocking over a lamp.

the two of you panic in silence, hearing footsteps down the corridor outside and stuffing the book back where harry had found it. you grab the cloak in your wand hand, and harry's grabs your other before the pair of you make a run for it.

you both manage to slip under the cloak and you slip your wand back into the waistband of your trousers as you near the door to the well-lit corridor. now, huddled under the cloak, the pair of you slip past filch- not failing to notice his eager eyes darting about the library you just fled.

the pair of you only slow down when you almost crash straight into a suit of armour. you turn to harry.

"where are we going?" you ask him.

"i was following you." he breathes.

"you asked me to come directly to you, professor, if anyone was wandering around at night, and somebody's been in the library- restricted section."

for the second time, you and harry look at each other with wide eyes. the two of you turn and hear filch coming towards them, his greasy voice getting nearer. to harry's obvious dismay, severus' voice follows.

"the restricted section? well, they can't be far. we'll catch them." he says, glumly.

you and harry are rooted to the spot as severus and filch step into light. they couldn't see you, of course, but if they came any closer in the narrow corridor, they'd knock straight into the pair of you.

you back away from the two staff members quietly, with your hand feeling the wall for an escape.

the door. it had to be here somewhere.

you felt it, and harry apparently did too. it was slightly ajar, and you were sure both of you could fit and slip through unnoticed.

you went in first, and harry followed after.

you tug on the cloak and harry lifts it off the pair of you.

"that was too close." he mutters. you nod, a little out of breath from holding it for so long.

"what is this place?"

"i don't even know what floor we're on anymore." harry admits, looking around.

it looks to be an empty classroom. the dark shapes of desks and chairs are piled up against the walls and there is an upturned waste paper basket.

but propped up against the wall facing you is something that seems incredibly out of place. as if someone had put it there just to keep it out of the way.

you gasp. you know what this is.

a magnificent mirror, as high as the ceiling, with an ornate golden frame standing on two clawed feet. there is an inscription carved around the top.

harry steps forward and squints his eyes to see it.

"erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi."

"wonder what that means." you say, before harry flinches suddenly.

he whips his head around to look behind him before turning slowly back to the mirror.

"what is it?"

"there's people in the mirror, y/n."

you smile. you can't help it.

"is there?" you ask. "who's in the mirror, harry?"

he spends some times gazing at them. he reaches out a hand and feels the air behind him. your stomach drops with a feeling of deep sadness as he smiles with teary eyes at someone he thinks is behind him.

"mum?" he whispers. "dad?"

"your parents?" you pry. "your parents are in the mirror?"

harry tears his eyes away from it and grabs your hand.

"we have to show ron."