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“It was Snape. Hermione and I saw him. He was cursing Harry’s broomstick, muttering, he wouldn’t take his eyes off of you,” Ron explained.

 

The four of us had gone back to Hagrid’s hut after Harry and I returned from the Hospital Wing for tea.

 

“Hold on. Say it again slowly,” I said.

 

“Snape. Cursed. Harry,” Ron said.

 

“I don’t believe this. Yes, Snape is cruel to Harry but he would never do that especially with Dumbledore watching-this can’t be true. I’m sorry Ron,” I said.

 

“Rubbish,” Hagrid agreed. “Why would Snape do somethin’ like that?”

 

“Fine don’t believe us,” Ron said, frustrated.

 

“You don’t have enough evidence to prove it!” I shrieked. “When you can prove me wrong, then let me know, and I might just believe you.”

 

Harry looked like he was debating on saying something until he finally spoke up.

 

“I found out something about him,” he told Hagrid. “He tried to get past that three-headed dog on Halloween. It bit him. We think he was trying to steal whatever it’s guarding.”

 

Hagrid dropped his teapot.

 

“How do you know about Fluffy?” he asked.

 

“Fluffy? That thing has a name?” I said.

 

“Yeah-he’s mine-bought him off a Greek chappie I met in the pub las’ year-I lent him to Dumbledore to guard the-”

 

“Yes?” Harry asked, looking eager.

 

“Now, don’t ask me anymore,” Hagrid said. “That’s top secret, that is.”

 

“But, Snape’s trying to steal it,” Hermione said.

 

“Rubbish,” Hagrid repeated. “Snape’s a Hogwarts teacher, he’d do nothin’ of the sort.”

 

“So why did he just try to kill Harry?” cried Ron.

 

“He didn’t try to kill Harry!” I said, annoyed.

 

“I know a jinx when I see one, Hagrid, I’ve read all about them!” Hermione said. Of course she did, I thought. “You’ve got to keep eye contact, and Snape wasn’t blinking at all, I saw him!”

 

“I’m tellin’ yeh, yer wrong!” said Hagrid hotly. “I don’ know why Harry’s broom acted like that, but Snape wouldn’ try an’ kill a student! Now, listen to me, all four of yeh-yer meddlin’ in things that don’ concern yeh. It’s dangerous. You forget that dog, an’ you forget what it’s guardin’, that’s between Professor Dumbledore an’ Nicolas Flamel-”

 

“Aha!” said Harry, “so there’s someone called Nicolas Flamel involved, is there?”

 

I covered my face with my hands. Great, one more thing to add to their list.

_________

 

On Christmas morning, I woke up and sprinted to Harry and Ron’s room. Hermione had gone home to spend the holidays with her parents, reminding us to look up more about Nicolas Flamel while she was gone. I opened the door and ran to Harry’s bed, shaking him awake. Ron, on the other hand, was already wide awake with excitement.

 

“Wha-Mads?” Harry asked, putting his glasses on and nearly poking his eye out.

 

“Good morning!” I said. “Merry Christmas!”

 

“Mmm Merry Christmas to you too,” he said, rolling out of bed. He looked at the end of his bed and his eyes widened.

 

“What?” I asked.

 

“I’ve got presents!” he said in complete awe.

 

“What did you expect, turnips?” Ron asked.

 

Harry didn’t respond. Instead he picked up his first gift that was wrapped in thick brown paper.

 

“That’s friendly,” said Harry.

 

Ron was fascinated by what Harry had in his hand.

 

“Weird!” he said, “What a shape! This is money?”

 

“You can keep it,” Harry said amused. “Hagrid and my aunt and uncle-so who sent these?”

 

“I think I know who that one’s from,” I said, pointing to the very lumpy parcel. Ron turned pink.

 

“My mom. I told her you didn’t expect any presents and-oh, no,” Ron groaned, “she’s made you a Weasley sweater.”

 

Harry tore open the parcel to find a thick, hand-knitted sweater in emerald green and a large box of homemade fudge.

 

As he put the stuff Mrs. Weasley had gotten him on his bed, a silvery gray, fluid, cloth poured out of a parcel and landed on the floor in gleaming folds. Ron and I gasped loudly.

 

“No way!” Ron shrieked.

 

“If it’s what I think it is….they’re really rare and really valuable, Harry,” I said.

 

“What is it?” Harry asked.

 

“I’m sure that’s an Invisibility Cloak, mate!” Ron said. “Try it on!”

 

Harry threw the Cloak over his shoulders and we gaped at him.

 

“His head is just floating!” I said, rolling on the floor laughing.

 

“There’s a note!” Ron said. “A note fell out!”

 

Harry threw off the Cloak and seized the letter, reading it aloud. “‘Your father left this in my possession before he died. It is time it was returned to you. Use it well. A very Merry Christmas to you’ No signature on it!”

 

“That was your dad’s?” I asked.

 

“Seems so,” Harry said. 

 

Before any of us could say anything, Fred and George burst in with two packages in their hands.

 

“Merry Christmas!” Fred said. “Mads here’s yours… Mum sent this one for you Ron, and I see Harry has already found his.”

 

He tossed one package to me and I tore it open.

 

“I love it!” I said, holding up a dark purple sweater with a golden ‘M’ on it and then quickly putting it on.

 

“Why aren’t you wearing yours, Ron?” Fred asked. “Come on, get it on, they’re lovely and warm….”

 

“I hate maroon,” Ron groaned as he pulled the sweater over his head.

 

“What is all this noise?” Percy asked from the door, coming in with his Weasley sweater tucked under his arm.

 

The twins jumped up and seized the sweater, forcing it over his head.

 

“P is for prefect,” George said. “Get it on, Percy, come on, we’re all wearing ours, even Harry got one.”

 

“I don’t want-” Percy protested as his glasses knocked off his face.

 

“And you’re not sitting with the prefects today, either,” Fred said. “Christmas is a time for family.”

 

After a glorious breakfast we all went outside for a snowball fight. Then, cold and wet, we returned to the fire in the Gryffindor common room, where Harry broke in his new chest set losing horribly to Ron. In his defense though, Percy kept trying to help him which I’m pretty sure just made it worse.

 

I was sitting on the couch when Harry came over to sit next to me.

 

“I got this for you, Mads,” Harry said, handing me a box.

 

I opened it and inside was a picture of Harry and I after we had won the match.

 

“I love it, Harry. Thank you,” I said, with a soft smile and gave him a hug.

 

I sat back down and fell asleep on the couch until something moving had woken me up.

 

“Harry?” I asked, seeing him creep across the common room. “What are you doing?”

 

“I wanted to try out my father’s cloak,” he said, walking over to me.

 

“Oh, okay. I’m sorry for bugging you. I should probably head back to my room-”

 

“Actually, Mads, will you come with me?” he asked and I smiled, nodding.

 

We climbed through the portrait hole.

 

“Who’s there?” the Fat Lady squawked, but Harry and I said nothing walking quickly down the corridor.

 

“Where do you wanna go?” I whispered.

 

I got my answer when Harry walked into the library heading toward the Restricted Section. The library was pitch-black and very eerie. Harry lit a lamp so that way we could see where we were going along the rows of books.

 

After Harry held up the lamp to read some of the titles, he set it down carefully on the floor. We started to open some books when the book in Harry’s hand started screaming. Harry snapped it shut, stumbling backwards and knocking over the lamp which went out at once.

 

Harry shoved the book back on one of the shelves and we ran for it. We passed Filch in the doorway and slipped through his outstretched arms.

 

We stopped in front of a tall suit of armor and I realized that we had been so focused on escaping we didn’t know where we were. I knew there was a suit of armor that was near the kitchens, but we must’ve been many floors above there.

 

“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.”

 

“Filch,” I hissed. I could hear his voice getting closer to us.

 

“The Restricted Section? Well, they can’t be far, we’ll catch them,” I heard Snape say.

 

I noticed a classroom door was open.

 

“Harry, come on,” I said.

 

I gently pushed the door open, and as soon as we were inside I took off the Cloak and closed the door carefully.

 

On the opposite side of the room was a large mirror.

 

It was as tall as the ceiling, as wide as six people standing side by side. It was lined with gold across it’s frame. On the top was carved an inscription that read “Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi.”

 

“What does that say?” Harry asked. “I don’t recognize that language.”

 

“Hold on,” I said. “Erised. That-that’s desire spelled backwards. Maybe the rest of it is backwards as well…”

 

I read it for a moment and grinned.

 

“It’s all just a sentence backwards,” I said. “With the spaces rearranged. I think it says ‘I show not your face but your heart’s desire.’ Yes… I think that’s it.”

 

“That does make sense,” Harry said. “Shall we take a look?”

 

I nodded and walked closer to look into the mirror.

 

“It does show our heart’s desires,” I said quietly.

 

“What do you see?” Harry asked.

 

I smiled, “I see my parents. Mom….Dad….” I could feel my eyes starting to water.

 

My mother waved at me, then blew a kiss. She was holding in her arms what looked to be a baby, wrapped in a blue blanket. My younger brother. My father’s arm was wrapped around her, grinning at me. Instantly more people were beginning to appear. People of all types. I recognized most of them from the pictures that the Weasleys had given me.

 

The entire Carter family was in the mirror, some smiling, some dancing, some laughing, but all were there, looking at me happily with pride.

 

“Wow,” I sighed, touching the mirror softly with my hand. My heart’s deepest desire was my family.

 

Then out of the side of the mirror more people began to stream in. It was the Weasleys and the Potters, all smiling and waving at the Carters, who moved to make space for them in the mirror. Harry’s figure in the mirror came forward to stand next to my parents, holding his hand out as if he wanted me to join them in the mirror. I pressed my palm against his in the mirror, stifling a sob.

 

“Mads?” Harry whispered from behind me. My lips were trembling and I turned to face him.

 

“My family, Harry,” I whispered. “My family-they’re all there. Come on, your turn.”

 

I stepped back and he stepped forward, giving me a small smile.

 

Harry smiled slightly.

 

“Mom?” he whispered. “Dad?”

 

“What do you see?” I asked.

 

“My family, all of the Potters. They’re here,” he said. He pressed his hands flat against the glass like he wanted to fall through it and touch them.

 

I came closer and sat next to him, gazing into the mirror. I leaned on Harry’s shoulder sighing loudly.

 

“We should bring Ron here, he should see this,” I said. “Thank you for letting me come with you.”

 

“Anytime,” Harry said, softly. “It’s nice having someone that understands, you know, what it’s like.”

 

“Yeah, I know what you mean. I wish I could remember them,” I said with a small smile. “We should probably go back.”

 

“Yeah,” Harry said. 

 

We got up slowly and put the Cloak back on. I grabbed Harry’s hand, feeling safer. He moved his hand so that his fingers laced with mine, making me glad that it was dark so he wouldn’t see my cheeks turn pink.

 

The following night we returned back to the room, but this time Ron was with us.

 

We pushed the door open and dropped Cloak on the ground. Harry ran to the mirror.

 

“See?” Harry whispered.

 

“I can’t see anything. I only see you,” Ron said.

 

“Harry I think it can only be one person standing in front of the mirror for it to work,” I said.

 

Harry turned to sit next to me as Ron moved to stand in front of the mirror. Ron was staring at his transfixed image.

 

“Look at me!” he said.

 

“What do you see?” Harry asked.

 

“I’m alone-but I’m different-I look older-and I’m head boy!” Ron said. “I’m wearing the badge like Bill used to-and I’m holding the house cup and the Quidditch cup-I’m Quidditch captain too!”

 

As Ron continued to look at the mirror in awe I explained to Harry quietly how Ron was always competing to be better than his brother.

 

“He’s grown up in the shadow of his brothers his whole life. Remember on the train ride here when he started to look gloomy when you asked about them?” I explained.

 

“Yeah, I remember. I never realized his brothers' success affected him that much,” said Harry.

 

“I think being constantly reminded of their accomplishments, mainly by his parents, made him want to achieve more than any of them,” I said.

 

The night after that, I returned to the mirror alone, and sat in front of it, smiling the entire time as tears began to roll down my cheek. The figures couldn’t speak to me, but they could do funny things that made me laugh.

 

“Enjoying it?”

 

I whipped around to see Dumbledore was standing by the door.

 

“It’s beautiful,” I said.

 

Dumbledore came closer, observing the mirror as if he hoped to catch some sort of glimpse of what appeared when I looked into it.

 

“The Mirror will be moved to a new home tomorrow. I ask you not to come back looking for it again. You AND Harry. If you ever do come across it, you will now be prepared. It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live, remember that,” Dumbledore said.

 

“I don’t dwell on dreams,” I mumbled. “I just wanted to see what I could’ve had. I think about it all the time. I was going to be an older sister.”

 

“I’m sure you do, it is very hard to lose both parents at such a young age,” Dumbledore said. “But I see them in you in many ways, Madison. They are proud of you and who you will become, including your younger sibling.”

 

I stood up.

 

“Professor Dumbledore? Can I ask you something?”

 

“Obviously, you’ve just done so,” Dumbledore smiled.

 

“What do you see when you look in the mirror?” I asked curiously.

 

“I? I see myself holding a pair of thick, woolen socks,” he replied.

 

I stared at him.

 

“One can never have enough socks,” said Dumbledore. “Another Christmas has come and gone and I didn’t get a single pair. People will always insist on giving me books.”

 

Realizing that Dumbledore was probably not saying the truth, I followed him out and he led me back to the common room. My last thought being my family as I fell into a peaceful sleep.


All credit for original characters and original plot goes to J.K. Rowling. I own only my OCs and select scenes that are not from the original series. Thank you, J.K. Rowling for writing this series and changing so many lives. Thank you all, for reading.

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