All It Takes

His Quidditch robes were wet, dirty, and torn. Blood stained parts of them red, but their original color was unrecognizable.

He stumbled up the dark corridor covered in cuts and bruises, burns and welts. His right elbow was shattered, but he'd not yet had a thought about seeing the nurse.

There was someone he needed to speak to more.

The stone gargoyle suddenly loomed out of the darkness. He paused to catch his breath, leaning heavily against the statue. Before he could muster up the energy to speak the password, he heard footsteps approaching from behind. Praying it wasn't Snape or Filch, he froze, wondering if a boy clinging desperately to a gargoyle would look terribly out of place to a passing teacher.

The steps faltered. "Harry!"

Dumbledore lifted his lantern high. "It is you. I've been searching all over. I was about to try the hospital wing..." He chuckled. "But I should know you better by now."

He wrapped an arm around Harry, helping him back to his feet.

"Sugar quill."

The gargoyle leapt aside. Stepping up to the staircase, Dumbledore casually said, "I'm glad you weren't still holding on when he did that."

Harry hung his head in shame. Lost in his thoughts, he was not aware of entering the headmaster's office, but suddenly he realized that he was in a familiar chair. Professor Dumbledore watched him from across his desk.

"I've let everyone down, Professor."

Dumbledore's bright blue eyes did not blink or look away from Harry's, and he did not speak.

Unnerved, the boy continued. "I didn't stop him."

"You didn't?" The headmaster sounded surprised. Harry's stomach gave a lurch. Could Professor Dumbledore not know?

"No sir." His voice fell to a whisper. "He got away."

"So you mean 'I didn't stop him' in the sense that you did not stop Voldemort from escaping the forest, not that you did not prevent him from murdering half the school during a Quidditch match?"

A pair of puzzled green eyes slowly worked their way up from the floor until the two wizards were eye to eye again.

Dumbledore leaned forward in his chair. "Listen, Harry. What you did tonight was selfless and brave. You kept Voldemort from advancing nearer to the school, and while you may not have handed him his final defeat, you gave him yet another reason to fear you. And if I may add, I thought that catching the snitch as you were grabbing your forehead and flying like mad toward the forest was a rather impressive play."

Harry opened his mouth to speak, but Dumbledore quickly added, "You know, Roderick Plumpton maintained to his death that he meant to catch the snitch up his sleeve. There's no need to tell that you had no intention of getting the snitch before you flew off. I'm sure your fans will be that much more awed."

"I don't deserve fans. Professor, maybe what you said is true, but how can I know for sure?"

"Ah, you cannot. That is a lesson you must learn. Everyone doubts their ability, their actions, their decisions. Having doubts does not make you a failure, but trusting them will. You should stop listening to your head. Start listening to your heart. Up here, your head is telling you all that you think you did wrong this evening, but in here, your heart is trying to let you know that you did what was right. Which of them is correct?"

Harry dropped his gaze.

"You saved a lot of lives tonight. You chased Voldemort away from Hogwarts. He knows you will be the end of him. The only real question is when. You're seventeen Harry, and you've got the most powerful dark wizard any person can still remember living in fear. That's amazing."

Neither spoke for several moments. Finally, Dumbledore looked up and murmured, "It is time, then." He turned and walked through the door behind him.

Harry closed his eyes. He'd forgotten his exhaustion while speaking with the headmaster, but it returned in one giant wave just seconds after Dumbledore left. Every muscle in his body ached, pain seared up and down his right arm, and he had a splitting headache from the prolonged burning of his scar. He looked down at his ruined Quidditch robes, encrusted in mud. Briefly he thought about picking them off and throwing them away, but the clothes he'd worn beneath them did not seem to be much better off.

He attempted to shift in his seat, but jarred his elbow. Crying out in surprise and pain, he froze, willing the sharp twinge to abate. In a rush of feathers, Fawkes landed on the arm of Harry's chair, immediately shedding his tears on the injured area. The boy stretched his arm out gingerly and smiled. "Thanks Fawkes."

He'd only just relaxed back into the chair when Dumbledore returned, carrying a large stone bowl, which he placed on his desk with an unceremonious thunk.

Harry nodded, still mindful of the pounding in his head.

Dumbledore looked appreciatively at the phoenix. "I think he alone understands your complete disregard for medical facilities."

Harry did not reply. He was staring at the bowl, wondering what could be so terribly important about it. "What is that, Professor?"

"This is the Basin of Edis. Go ahead, have a closer look. I'm giving it to you."

"But why, sir?"

"It is clear to me that you were meant to have it. I have known, in a way, since the first day I saw you here at Hogwarts. I just wondered e time would be right. It is now."

Harry leaned forward, studying the basin. It kind of reminded him of the Pensieve he'd seen in this very office, but instead of runes carved around the rim, there were words.

"Edis reh to ehte esi. What language is that?"

"It is rumored," Dumbledore replied, "that the wizard who created this basin was also the maker of the Mirror of Erised."

"I see the other side," Harry whispered.

The headmaster's smile grew wider. "I am impressed. For six years I have pondered if you picked up on that, Mr. Potter. Ten points to Gryffindor for satisfying my curiosity."

"It sees the other side... but of what?"

"The choices you make, Harry. When you touch this basin, it will feel what is in your heart. The basin will fill, and when you look into it, it will take you back to a single decision in your life. But instead of making that choice, you will choose differently. Then you will see what happens as a result."

"So it will show me what would have happened if I hadn't gone after Voldemort today?"

"Maybe, but I don't think that is what you will see. The cause of your despair is not so shallow, I think. The Basin of Edis will reach much deeper."

"Wow."

"It is a powerful tool. I trust you will have the wisdom to know when to use it and when it is best to not know. Just as men have wasted away before the mirror, many have suffered heartbreak while letting this basin show them what might have been."

There was a long pause, the two wizards watching each other as if waiting for the other to move. Harry broke eye contact first, reaching out until his fingers touched the cool, rough stone. What looked like rays of light poured into the basin from the very places his fingers made the connection, filling it quickly.

"One choice. That's all it takes to change the world, Harry Potter," Dumbledore reminded, sounding suddenly far away.

Cautiously, the boy leaned forward so he was looking into the basin. The light gathered to the sides, and Harry realized he was looking at Number 4, Privet Drive. Abruptly, the world tipped so he was falling, and he instinctively closed his eyes. When at last they opened again, Harry could hardly believe what he saw.