The Mirror of Erised

Albus Dumbledore, Aged 11

Albus Dumbledore slipped out of bed early in the morning, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. The sun shone through the window of Gryffindor tower, reflecting off the blanket of snow outside, and somewhere in the distance, a rooster crowed. The rest of the room was silent.

He slipped on his robes over his pajamas quickly and tiptoed out across the plush carpet, holding his breath and not making a sound. He didn't want to wake Elphias up. Sure, Elfie was a great friend, loyal- sometimes too loyal- and entertaining, but at this time of day, Albus wasn't up for hearing Elphias's chatter. Midterm exams were coming up, and Albus needed all his time to study. After all, how could he become a great wizard if he didn't do well at school?

He opened the door, letting out a sigh of relief when nobody stirred, but suddenly the silence was broken by a hiss. "Al," Elphias called groggily. One of the lumps on one of the beds sat up, revealing a pudgy-looking boy with disheveled hair. His face was marred with purplish scars and his nose looked squashed, as if someone had stepped on it.

"Hi, Elfie," Albus sighed, pushing his glasses up his long, thin nose. He looked out the window impatiently. If he stopped to talk to his friend now, he'd never have time to cram in some studying before breakfast.

"I heard you get up. Where are you going?" Elphias asked.

"The library," Albus said curtly. "I best be going, so I reckon I'll see you at breakfast?"

"Wait, Al!" Elphias called, but it was too late. Albus was already running down the staircase and popping out of Gryffindor's portrait hole.

"And where are you going in such a rush?" the Fat Lady asked good-naturedly.

Albus ignored her and dashed off to the library.

He felt bad about ditching Elphias, he really did, but sometimes he just couldn't stand his friend's chatter. It was nice to be held up on a pedestal, but with it came so many annoyances. He supposed he should be grateful, and maybe he had been too rude to Elphias this morning, for no one seemed to like Elphias's company much. However, Albus couldn't help but feel that Elphias's constant presence was keeping Albus from reaching his full potential.

He knew this thinking was wrong; he shouldn't think like that, but he just couldn't help himself. It was like the Devil's Snare, a dangerous idea that had taken root in his brain that, try as he could, he could not get rid of.

Lost in thought, he walked straight into a door that laughed as he bumped into it. He looked around in confusion and groaned. Where was he?

From around the corner came a whooshing sound, but Albus ignored it. He was starting to get irritated; he was starting to get hungry, and this was such a waste of his time!

"Oooo, looky here, it's ickle Dumby, isn't it?" cackled someone.

Albus looked up in the direction of the noise, disgruntled, but saw no one. "Peeves," he groaned. "Go away."

There was a popping noise, and Peeves the Poltergeist appeared in thin air, bobbing over Albus's head. "Aww, am I ruining Dumby's fun?"

"Shut up," said Albus, starting to get seriously annoyed. If there was anything he couldn't stand, it was people mocking him.

"You're in an awful bad mood today. Are you love sick or something? Is Dumby lurrrrve-sick?"

Albus huffed angrily and pushed past the laughing door, slamming it shut quickly. From behind the door he could still hear Peeves singing and cackling.

Something shimmered in his peripheral vision. Albus turned his head to look at it and gasped at the magnificent sight. An ornate mirror stood in the abandoned room, reaching almost as high as the ceiling. He didn't know what it was about the mirror, but it seemed to have some kind of magnetic attraction towards him, for he found himself walking closer and closer without realizing it.

The edges of the mirror were engraved so intricately it could only be the work of goblins. At the very top, an inscription was carved- "Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi."

Albus gasped. He had heard of this mirror before- it was the Mirror of Erised, the mirror that showed people's greatest desire, the mirror that drove many warlocks mad.

He heard his mother's voice in his head warning him not to be too curious about unknown magical objects, for they could be deadly, but Albus couldn't help it; the magnetic pull between him and the mirror was too strong. The whole place almost seemed to tingle with an unknown magic, and Albus carefully stepped right in front of the mirror.

At first, all he saw was himself, his dressing gown brushing the floor and his bright blue eyes droopy with lack of sleep. A wave of disappointment swept over him- but wait, no! The image was changing before his very eyes.

His plain dressing gown melted off of him as his body seemed to stretch longer and longer until he was no longer a sleep-deprived, scrawny first year, but a tall, willowy wizard wearing plain black robes and a severe expression. He couldn't tell how old he was, for wrinkles lined his face and his hair was a silvery white, but his eyes held the evidence of centuries of wisdom and sagacity.

Albus leaned closer to the mirror and gasped at the background behind him. His older reflection in the mirror was calmly sitting in a graveyard, clutching his wand in one hand, and behind him stood millions of people, all wearing the same exact expression. It was almost unnerving to see this, but something in Albus's heart clicked- a long suppressed fear.

Although he was loathe to acknowledge it, Albus had somehow known that he was afraid of death- quite an irrational fear, but one that was so innately embedded in him that he couldn't suppress it. And now, here was his reflection, an old man sitting in a graveyard, almost as if gloating that he had conquered death.

But the people, why were the people there? Albus stared at them, and they stared right back with the same blank expression, sending shivers down his spine. And suddenly he realized that the brainwashed people were slaves to his reflection in the mirror. He had complete power and control over him. Not only had his reflection conquered death, but it had also achieved power, worldwide domination.

The image in the mirror both frightened and enticed him. He could feel his feet moving jerkily backwards, but could not bear to look away from the sight. His reflection in the mirror smiled sagely back at him, calm as ever.

He tripped over the long hem of his dressing gown, finally breaking eye contact with the mirror. As he sat, rubbing his head ruefully, he couldn't push away the terror in his chest.

He had always thought of himself as brave and kind, intelligent and charismatic. He always thought that he'd be the wizard everyone would look up to, but how could he when his deepest desires were so evil?

If those are my deepest desires, he thought, I might as well have been put in Slytherin.

*

It could have been maybe a few minutes or a few hours that Albus sat on the floor, his head swimming. Finally, the door burst open, and a very sweaty Elphias burst into the room.

"Al!" he puffed. "Where have you been? You look like you've just seen a ghost!"

Albus smiled weakly.

"No, seriously, what's wrong?" asked Elphias, sitting down beside his bead.

Albus pointed to the corner of the room where the mirror was, and Elphias looked in that direction.

"What do you mean? What's over there?"

Albus lifted his head in confusion. Nothing was in the corner anymore. The mirror had just disappeared.

"I dunno," he mumbled, shrugging and getting up.

Could that all have been a hallucination?