Then He Would Be Happy At Last

"Come, Minerva, I have found a magnificent room."

Minerva had been positively aware of her friend's nightly wanderings around Hogwarts, though she had always refused to take part in them. As a Gryffindor Prefect she knew she had to be a good example to the younger students, and it would have been quite embarrassing for her to be caught strolling along the corridors after midnight. Tom Riddle, on the other hand, didn't seem to care about the threat of detention. He seemed to believe that most of the teachers liked him too much to give him one, and in that he was probably right. Minerva gave a sort of look to Tom that told him clearly what she thought about breaking the school rules.

Tom didn't give up that easily, though. The room, he told to Minerva, was completely forgotten, nowhere near the teachers' rooms. Even the ghosts didn't like it there. They wouldn't be disturbed by anyone, Tom promised.

"...And it's so full of magical items of all kind. I haven't ever seen anything like it! I didn't have enough time to study them yesterday, but I'm going to continue tonight. You would love it! So, will you come with me?"

Minerva gave a thoughtful glance at his Slytherin friend, and she couldn't help smiling to Tom's enthusiasm. It was a little wonder that they had become friends. Minerva was fifteen, two years older than Tom, and obviously from the wrong house to become a Slytherin's girlfriend, but they didn't care. Since that autumn they had spent more and more time together. Minerva didn't remember ever being happier in her life.

"Hm," said the Gryffindor girl. "I'll probably regret this, but... all right. Wait me outside the Gryffindor common room entrance at midnight. But don't let anyone see you, remember?"

* * * * *

Feeling slightly guilty, Minerva sneaked out of the Gryffindor portrait hole, and at once Tom stepped aside from behind a statue, giving her a little smile. Hastily, Tom led them to the other side of the castle. Minerva followed, long ago lost the count of the turns and stairs. She was delighted when they finally stood in front of an old oak door. Tom pointed at the door with his wand, muttering an opening spell. Minerva stepped in behind him. She certainly knew that curiosity had killed the cat once, but she wasn't sorted among the brave Gryffindors for nothing.

The room was some kind of a storage, in which countless magical objects lay seemingly forgotten, covered in spiderwebs. In astonishment, Minerva gave a deep sigh. She found herself holding Tom's hand, and they looked at each other, giving a conspirator's smile.

Tom had started to examine various objects of the room, while Minerva's attention was caught by a high, gold-framed mirror. The mirror stood against the wall, and it was completely covered in dust and spiderwebs. Minerva started to wipe the dust off, but as she looked at the mirror she didn't see her reflection at all.

Instead, she saw a cosy living-room, complete with a fireplace and a sofa. There was a dark-haired person sitting on a sofa, looking at the fire so that Minerva couldn't see the face. Then the person turned around, as if to greet someone. Minerva realized that she was looking at Tom Riddle.

It was Tom, but this Tom was older, much older than the Slytherin boy who stood beside her in the real room. He could have been as much as half a century older, for his hair had already streaks of silver among black, and he also had quite a many wrinkles around his blue eyes. He smiled pleasantly as he stood up to greet the other person. Minerva startled as she saw herself, fifty years older, but still recognizable, entering the room.

Tom in the mirror hugged Minerva in a gentle way, and fifteen-year old Minerva felt the warmth and happiness filling her. The happy couple in the mirror seemed to discuss about something, and Tom poured Minerva a glass of red wine as they both sat down on the sofa. The two of them were living a happy life together in some distant future. Watching it, Minerva felt such a longing and desire that she hardly remembered where she was.

The touch of Tom's hand on her shoulder brought her back to the reality.

"Is something wrong?" asked Tom, eyeing the mirror with curious glances. "What is that thing?"

Minerva shuddered. "It isn't a normal mirror. I saw something strange there. I saw the future," she added, confused to feel Tom so near her.

But Tom had already pushed her aside. "Let me see."

At first he saw nothing. The absence of his reflection startled him at first, but he continued to stare the darkness. Suddenly, the darkness was filled with a blaze that almost blinded him. A huge fire ball had appeared in the mirror, so realistic that he could even feel the fire and heat. And then a red and golden bird rose from the fire.

"Dumbledore's phoenix," muttered Tom. "This is getting ridiculous."

The heat was considerably less by then, and as Tom watched the mirror he saw that the phoenix had spread his wings, and he flew across towns and villages now. Tom could feel the breeze, too, and he knew that he was the bird in the mirror. A sudden happiness and warmth filled him. He only wanted to stay there forever, flying as a bird.

He was a powerful phoenix, and all the people in the towns and villages admired him. They wanted to touch his feathers. They loved him so much that they made him their ruler. With one sweep of his wing he could build anything he wanted, and destroy anything he wanted, and soon the world looked new, for the phoenix had rebuilt it. Tom breathed deeply, feeling only the desire to be as powerful, and as magnificent as the phoenix in the mirror.

Then the darkness came again, and all of a sudden, the phoenix became just a flaming fire ball again. Tom cried out in agony, almost feeling the burns on his flesh, closing his eyes momentarily. But as he opened them, he saw the phoenix emerging from the ashes, newly-born and gorgeous. Tom shivered. The desire to find a way to be as powerful a being, to conquer even death, was almost too much to endure.

Tom was pulled back to the reality by Minerva's worried voice.

"Tom! Can you hear me, Tom? Are you all right?"

Minerva stared at him, a glimpse of fear in her eyes. Reluctantly, Tom turned away from the mirror. His mind was still filled with pictures of the resurrecting phoenix.

"Did you see the future, too? How was it?" she asked, curiosity winning over fear.

"The future?" Tom muttered, mainly to himself. "Yes. Maybe. I don't know."

He found himself strangely unwilling to talk about what he had seen in the mirror. He tried to take another glimpse of it, but now the two of them were startled by sudden noise. Before neither of them had time to hide themselves, the door was opened with a low thud.

It was Professor Dumbledore. Minerva gasped, a strong feeling of guilty filling her. Tom remained calm, but he didn't dare to look at the mirror any more. The Transfiguration teacher didn't seem very surprised to find the two of them there.

"I heard some noise, and came to check it out," said Dumbledore. "I suppose you know that students are not allowed to be here, especially in the middle of the night."

Minerva blushed. Neither of them didn't want to look at Dumbledore.

"The Mirror of Erised. That's the name of it," continued Dumbledore.

Tom turned to look the elderly Professor as the realization struck him.

"Erised? Like desire backwards? Does it mean that..." Tom started.

"Doesn't it show the future?" asked Minerva shyly.

Dumbledore shook his head. "It shows the deepest desire of our hearts. It shows our dreams, not the truth."

Tom and Minerva glanced at the mirror as if not believing their ears.

"But I thought it was the future..." said Minerva, feeling suddenly almost disappointed.

"What did you see, then?" asked professor Dumbledore. "And what about you, Tom? What did you see in the mirror?"

Neither of them spoke.

"Of course, it's not very kind to ask," said Dumbledore pleasantly. "You don't have to tell me. But remember that what you saw was only your desire. It may be dangerous to cling to your desire. You may spend your life longing for something that you have seen in that mirror, and lose all happiness in your life while you seek after it. Forget about the mirror, Tom and Minerva. Don't let it bother you any more. And now, time to go to bed, I suppose."

The two of them stood in front of Gryffindor common room entrance. It had been quite a night.

"I wish it would become true, though," whispered Minerva her last words to Tom before she stepped through the portrait hole. They both knew that she talked about the mirror.

"Me too," said Tom.

He knew he could make it become true one day, although he didn't yet know the way. But he would find out. And finally he would be as free and powerful as the phoenix.

And then he would be happy at last.