ШКОЛА НАДПРОФ /
J. K. Rowling «Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone» / Chapter XII. The Mirror Of Erised
J. K. Rowling «Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone»
Chapter XII. The Mirror Of Erised
Christmas was coming. One morning in mid-December, Hogwarts woke to find itself covered
in several feet of snow. The lake froze solid and the Weasley twins were punished
for bewitching several snowballs so that they followed Quirrell around, bouncing
off the back of his turban. The few owls that managed to battle their way through
the stormy sky to deliver mail had to be nursed back to health by Hagrid before
they could fly off again.
No one could wait for the holidays to start.
While the Gryffindor common room and the Great Hall had roaring fires, the drafty
corridors had become icy and a bitter wind rattled the windows in the classrooms.
Worst of all were Professor Snape's classes down in the dungeons, where their
breath rose in a mist before them and they kept as close as possible to their
"I do feel so sorry," said Draco Malfoy, one Potions
class, "for all those people who have to stay at Hogwarts for Christmas because
they're not wanted at home."
He was looking over at Harry as he spoke.
Crabbe and Goyle chuckled. Harry, who was measuring out powdered spine of lionfish,
ignored them. Malfoy had been even more unpleasant than usual since the Quidditch
match. Disgusted that the Slytherins had lost, he had tried to get everyone laughing
at how a wide-mouthed tree frog would be replacing Harry as Seeker next. Then
he'd realized that nobody found this funny, because they were all so impressed
at the way Harry had managed to stay on his bucking broomstick. So Malfoy, jealous
and angry, had gone back to taunting Harry about having no proper family.
It was true that Harry wasn't going back to Privet Drive for Christmas. Professor
McGonagall had come around the week before, making a list of students who would
be staying for the holidays, and Harry had signed up at once. He didn't feel sorry
for himself at all; this would probably be the best Christmas he'd ever had. Ron
and his brothers were staying, too, because Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were going to
Romania to visit Charlie.
When they left the dungeons at the end of Potions,
they found a large fir tree blocking the corridor ahead. Two enormous feet sticking
out at the bottom and a loud puffing sound told them that Hagrid was behind it.
"Hi, Hagrid, want any help?" Ron asked, sticking his head through the
"Nah, I'm all right, thanks, Ron."
you mind moving out of the way?" came Malfoys cold drawl from behind them.
"Are you trying to earn some extra money, Weasley? Hoping to be gamekeeper
yourself when you leave Hogwarts, I suppose -- that hut of Hagrid's must seem
like a palace compared to what your family's used to."
Ron dived at
Malfoy just as Snape came up the stairs.
let go of the front of Malfoy's robes.
"He was provoked, Professor
Snape," said Hagrid, sticking his huge hairy face out from behind the tree.
"Malfoy was insultin' his family."
"Be that as it may, fighting
is against Hogwarts rules, Hagrid," said Snape silkily. "Five points
from Gryffindor, Weasley, and be grateful it isn't more. Move along, all of you."
Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle pushed roughly past the tree, scattering needles everywhere
"I'll get him," said Ron, grinding his teeth at
Malfoy's back, "one of these days, I'll get him --"
them both," said Harry, "Malfoy and Snape."
cheer up, it's nearly Christmas," said Hagrid. "Tell yeh what, come
with me an' see the Great Hall, looks a treat."
So the three of them
followed Hagrid and his tree off to -the Great Hall, where Professor McGonagall
and Professor Flitwick were busy with the Christmas decorations.
Hagrid, the last tree -- put it in the far corner, would you?"
hall looked spectacular. Festoons of holly and mistletoe hung all around the walls,
and no less than twelve towering Christmas trees stood around the room, some sparkling
with tiny icicles, some glittering with hundreds of candles.
many days you got left until yer holidays?" Hagrid asked.
one," said Hermione. "And that reminds me -Harry, Ron, we've got half
an hour before lunch, we should be in the library."
you're right," said Ron, tearing his eyes away from Professor Flitwick, who
had golden bubbles blossoming out of his wand and was trailing them over the branches
of the new tree.
"The library?" said Hagrid, following them out
of the hall. "Just before the holidays? Bit keen, aren't yeh?"
"Oh, we're not working," Harry told him brightly. "Ever since you
mentioned Nicolas Flamel we've been trying to find out who he is."
"You what?" Hagrid looked shocked. "Listen here -- I've told yeh
-- drop it. It's nothin' to you what that dog's guardin'."
just want to know who Nicolas Flamel is, that's all," said Hermione.
"Unless you'd like to tell us and save us the trouble?" Harry added.
"We must've been through hundreds of books already and we can't find him
anywhere -- just give us a hint -- I know I've read his name somewhere."
"I'm sayin' nothin, said Hagrid flatly.
"Just have to find out
for ourselves, then," said Ron, and they left Hagrid looking disgruntled
and hurried off to the library.
They had indeed been searching books for
Flamel's name ever since Hagrid had let it slip, because how else were they going
to find out what Snape was trying to steal? The trouble was, it was very hard
to know where to begin, not knowing what Flamel might have done to get himself
into a book. He wasn't in Great Wizards of the Twentieth Century, or Notable Magical
Names of Our Time; he was missing, too, from Important Modern Magical Discoveries,
and A Study of Recent Developments in Wizardry. And then, of course, there was
the sheer size of the library; tens of thousands of books; thousands of shelves;
hundreds of narrow rows.
Hermione took out a list of subjects and titles
she had decided to search while Ron strode off down a row of books and started
pulling them off the shelves at random. Harry wandered over to the Restricted
Section. He had been wondering for a while if Flamel wasn't somewhere in there.
Unfortunately, you needed a specially signed note from one of the teachers to
look in any of the restricted books, and he knew he'd never get one. These were
the books containing powerful Dark Magic never taught at Hogwarts, and only read
by older students studying advanced Defense Against the Dark Arts.
are you looking for, boy?"
"Nothing," said Harry.
Madam Pince the librarian brandished a feather duster at him.
better get out, then. Go on -- out!"
Wishing he'd been a bit quicker
at thinking up some story, Harry left the library. He, Ron, and Hermione had already
agreed they'd better not ask Madam Pince where they could find Flamel. They were
sure she'd be able to tell them, but they couldn't risk Snape hearing what they
were up to.
Harry waited outside in the corridor to see if the other two
had found anything, but he wasn't very hopeful. They had been looking for two
weeks, after A, but as they only had odd moments between lessons it wasn't surprising
they'd found nothing. What they really needed was a nice long search without Madam
Pince breathing down their necks.
Five minutes later, Ron and Hermione
joined him, shaking their heads. They went off to lunch.
keep looking while I'm away, won't you?" said Hermione. "And send me
an owl if you find anything."
"And you could ask your parents
if they know who Flamel is," said Ron. "It'd be safe to ask them."
"Very safe, as they're both dentists," said Hermione.
holidays had started, Ron and Harry were having too good a time to think much
about Flamel. They had the dormitory to themselves and the common room was far
emptier than usual, so they were able to get the good armchairs by the fire. They
sat by the hour eating anything they could spear on a toasting fork -- bread,
English muffins, marshmallows -- and plotting ways of getting Malfoy expelled,
which were fun to talk about even if they wouldn't work.
Ron also started
teaching Harry wizard chess. This was exactly like Muggle chess except that the
figures were alive, which made it a lot like directing troops in battle. Ron's
set was very old and battered. Like everything else he owned, it had once belonged
to someone else in his family -- in this case, his grandfather. However, old chessmen
weren't a drawback at all. Ron knew them so well he never had trouble getting
them to do what he wanted.
Harry played with chessmen Seamus Finnigan had
lent him, and they didn't trust him at all. He wasn't a very good player yet and
they kept shouting different bits of advice at him, which was confusing. "Don't
send me there, can't you see his knight? Send him, we can afford to lose him."
On Christmas Eve, Harry went to bed looking forward to the next day for the food
and the fun, but not expecting any presents at all. When he woke early in the
morning, however, the first thing he saw was a small pile of packages at the foot
of his bed.
"Merry Christmas," said Ron sleepily as Harry scrambled
out of bed and pulled on his bathrobe.
"You, too," said Harry.
"Will you look at this? I've got some presents!"
you expect, turnips?" said Ron, turning to his own pile, which was a lot
bigger than Harry's.
Harry picked up the top parcel. It was wrapped in
thick brown paper and scrawled across it was To Harry, from Hagrid. Inside was
a roughly cut wooden flute. Hagrid had obviously whittled it himself. Harry blew
it -- it sounded a bit like an owl.
A second, very small parcel contained
We received your message and enclose your Christmas present. From
Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia. Taped to the note was a fifty-pence piece.
"That's friendly," said Harry.
Ron was fascinated by the fifty
"Weird!" he said, 'NMat a shape! This is money?"
"You can keep it," said Harry, laughing at how pleased Ron was. "Hagrid
and my aunt and uncle -- so who sent these?"
"I think I know
who that one's from," said Ron, turning a bit pink and pointing to a very
lumpy parcel. "My mom. I told her you didn't expect any presents and -- oh,
no," he groaned, "she's made you a Weasley sweater."
had torn open the parcel to find a thick, hand-knitted sweater in emerald green
and a large box of homemade fudge.
"Every year she makes us a sweater,"
said Ron, unwrapping his own, "and mine's always maroon."
really nice of her," said Harry, trying the fudge, which was very tasty.
His next present also contained candy -- a large box of Chocolate Frogs from Hermione.
This only left one parcel. Harry picked it up and felt it. It was very light.
He unwrapped it.
Something fluid and silvery gray went slithering to the
floor where it lay in gleaming folds. Ron gasped.
"I've heard of those,"
he said in a hushed voice, dropping the box of Every Flavor Beans he'd gotten
from Hermione. "If that's what I think it is -- they're really rare, and
"What is it?"
Harry picked the
shining, silvery cloth off the floor. It was strange to the touch, like water
woven into material.
"It's an invisibility cloak," said Ron,
a look of awe on his face. "I'm sure it is -- try it on."
threw the cloak around his shoulders and Ron gave a yell.
Harry looked down at his feet, but they were gone. He
dashed to the mirror. Sure enough, his reflection looked back at him, just his
head suspended in midair, his body completely invisible. He pulled the cloak over
his head and his reflection vanished completely.
"There's a note!"
said Ron suddenly. "A note fell out of it!"
Harry pulled off
the cloak and seized the letter. Written in narrow, loopy writing he had never
seen before were the following words: 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
There was no signature. Harry stared at the note. Ron was admiring
"I'd give anything for one of these," he said. "Anything.
What's the matter?"
"Nothing," said Harry. He felt very
strange. Who had sent the cloak? Had it really once belonged to his father?
Before he could say or think anything else, the dormitory door was flung open
and Fred and George Weasley bounded in. Harry stuffed the cloak quickly out of
sight. He didn't feel like sharing it with anyone else yet.
"Hey, look -- Harry's got a Weasley sweater, too!"
Fred and George were wearing blue sweaters, one with a large yellow F on it, the
other a G.
"Harry's is better than ours, though," said Fred,
holding up Harry's sweater. "She obviously makes more of an effort if you're
"Why aren't you wearing yours, Ron?" George
demanded. "Come on, get it on, they're lovely and warm."
hate maroon," Ron moaned halfheartedly as he pulled it over his head.
"You haven't got a letter on yours," George observed. "I suppose
she thinks you don't forget your name. But we're not stupid -- we know we're called
Gred and Forge."
"What's all th is noise.
stuck his head through the door, looking disapproving. He had clearly gotten halfway
through unwrapping his presents as he, too, carried a lumpy sweater over his arm,
"P for prefect! Get it on, Percy, come on,
we're all wearing ours, even Harry got one."
"I -- don't -- want
said Percy thickly, as the twins forced the sweater over his head, knocking his
"And you're not sitting with the prefects today, either,"
George. "Christmas is a time for family."
Percy from the room, his arms pinned to his side by his sweater.
had never in all his life had such a Christmas dinner. A hundred fat, roast turkeys;
mountains of roast and boiled potatoes; platters of chipolatas; tureens of buttered
peas, silver boats of thick, rich gravy and cranberry sauce -- and stacks of wizard
crackers every few feet along the table. These fantastic party favors were nothing
like the feeble Muggle ones the Dursleys usually bought, with their little plastic
toys and their flimsy paper hats inside. Harry pulled a wizard cracker with Fred
and it didn't just bang, it went off with a blast like a cannon and engulfed them
all in a cloud of blue smoke, while from the inside exploded a rear admiral's
hat and several live, white mice. Up at the High Table, Dumbledore had swapped
his pointed wizard's hat for a flowered bonnet, and was chuckling merrily at a
joke Professor Flitwick had just read him.
Flaming Christmas puddings followed
the turkey. Percy nearly broke his teeth on a silver sickle embedded in his slice.
Harry watched Hagrid getting redder and redder in the face as he called for more
wine, finally kissing Professor McGonagall on the cheek, who, to Harry's amazement,
giggled and blushed, her top hat lopsided.
When Harry finally left the
table, he was laden down with a stack of things out of the crackers, including
a pack of nonexplodable, luminous balloons, a Grow-Your-Own-Warts kit, and his
own new wizard chess set. The white mice had disappeared and Harry had a nasty
feeling they were going to end up as Mrs. Norris's Christmas dinner.
and the Weasleys spent a happy afternoon having a furious snowball fight on the
grounds. Then, cold, wet, and gasping for breath, they returned to the fire in
the Gryffindor common room, where Harry broke in his new chess set by losing spectacularly
to Ron. He suspected he wouldn't have lost so badly if Percy hadn't tried to help
him so much.
After a meal of turkey sandwiches, crumpets, trifle, and Christmas
cake, everyone felt too full and sleepy to do much before bed except sit and watch
Percy chase Fred and George all over Gryffindor tower because they'd stolen his
It had been Harry's best Christmas day ever. Yet something
had been nagging at the back of his mind all day. Not until he climbed into bed
was he free to think about it: the invisibility cloak and whoever had sent it.
Ron, full of turkey and cake and with nothing mysterious to bother him, fell asleep
almost as soon as he'd drawn the curtains of his four-poster. Harry leaned over
the side of his own bed and pulled the cloak out from under it.
this had been his father's. He let the material flow over his hands, smoother
than silk, light as air. Use it well, the note had said.
He had to try
it, now. He slipped out of bed and wrapped the cloak around himself. Looking down
at his legs, he saw only moonlight and shadows. It was a very funny feeling.
Use it well.
Suddenly, Harry felt wide-awake. The whole of Hogwarts was
open to him in this cloak. Excitement flooded through him as he stood there in
the dark and silence. He could go anywhere in this, anywhere, and Filch would
Ron grunted in his sleep. Should Harry wake him? Something
held him back -- his father's cloak -- he felt that this time -- the first time
-- he wanted to use it alone.
He crept out of the dormitory, down the stairs,
across the common room, and climbed through the portrait hole.
there?" squawked the Fat Lady. Harry said nothing. He walked quickly down
Where should he go? He stopped, his heart racing, and thought.
And then it came to him. The Restricted Section in the library. He'd be able to
read as long as he liked, as long as it took to find out who Flamel was. He set
off, drawing the invisibility cloak tight around him as he walked.
library was pitch-black and very eerie. Harry lit a lamp to see his way along
the rows of books. The lamp looked as if it was floating along in midair, and
even though Harry could feel his arm supporting it, the sight gave him the creeps.
The Restricted Section was right at the back of the library. Step ping carefully
over the rope that separated these books from the rest of the library, he held
up his lamp to read the titles.
They didn't tell him much. Their peeling,
faded gold letters spelled words in languages Harry couldn't understand. Some
had no title at all. One book had a dark stain on it that looked horribly like
blood. The hairs on the back of Harry's neck prickled. Maybe he was imagining
it, maybe not, but he thought a faint whispering was coming from the books, as
though they knew someone was there who shouldn't be.
He had to start somewhere.
Setting the lamp down carefully on the floor, he looked along the bottom shelf
for an interestinglooking book. A large black and silver volume caught his eye.
He pulled it out with difficulty, because it was very heavy, and, balancing it
on his knee, let it fall open.
A piercing, bloodcurdling shriek split the
silence -- the book was screaming! Harry snapped it shut, but the shriek went
on and on, one high, unbroken, earsplitting note. He stumbled backward and knocked
over his lamp, which went out at once. Panicking, he heard footsteps coming down
the corridor outside -- stuffing the shrieking book back on the shelf, he ran
for it. He passed Filch in the doorway; Filch's pale, wild eyes looked straight
through him, and Harry slipped under Filch's outstretched arm and streaked off
up the corridor, the book's shrieks still ringing in his ears.
to a sudden halt in front of a tall suit of armor. He had been so busy getting
away from the library, he hadn't paid attention to where he was going. Perhaps
because it was dark, he didn't recognize where he was at all. There was a suit
of armor near the kitchens, he knew, but he must be five 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."
Harry felt the blood drain out of his face. Wherever he was, Filch must know a
shortcut, because his soft, greasy voice was getting nearer, and to his horror,
it was Snape who replied, "The Restricted Section? Well, they can't be far,
we'll catch them."
Harry stood rooted to the spot as Filch and Snape
came around the corner ahead. They couldn't see him, of course, but it was a narrow
corridor and if they came much nearer they'd knock right into him -- the cloak
didn't stop him from being solid.
He backed away as quietly as he could.
A door stood ajar to his left. It was his only hope. He squeezed through it, holding
his breath, trying not to move it, and to his relief he managed to get inside
the room without their noticing anything. They walked straight past, and Harry
leaned against the wall, breathing deeply, listening to their footsteps dying
away. That had been close, very close. It was a few seconds before he noticed
anything about the room he had hidden in.
It looked like an unused classroom.
The dark shapes of desks and chairs were piled against the walls, and there was
an upturned wastepaper basket -- but propped against the wall facing him was something
that didn't look as if it belonged there, something that looked as if someone
had just put it there to keep it out of the way.
It was a magnificent mirror,
as high as the ceiling, with an ornate gold frame, standing on two clawed feet.
There was an inscription carved around the top: Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru
oyt on wohsi. His panic fading now that there was no sound of Filch and Snape,
Harry moved nearer to the mirror, wanting to look at himself but see no reflection
again. He stepped in front of it.
He had to clap his hands to his mouth
to stop himself from screaming. He whirled around. His heart was pounding far
more furiously than when the book had screamed -- for he had seen not only himself
in the mirror, but a whole crowd of people standing right behind him.
the room was empty. Breathing very fast, he turned slowly back to the mirror.
There he was, reflected in it, white and scared-looking, and there, reflected
behind him, were at least ten others. Harry looked over his shoulder -- but still,
no one was there. Or were they all invisible, too? Was he in fact in a room full
of invisible people and this mirror's trick was that it reflected them, invisible
He looked in the mirror again. A woman standing right behind his
reflection was smiling at him and waving. He reached out a hand and felt the air
behind him. If she was really there, he'd touch her, their reflections were so
close together, but he felt only air -- she and the others existed only in the
She was a very pretty woman. She had dark red hair and her eyes
-- her eyes are just like mine, Harry thought, edging a little closer to the glass.
Bright green -- exactly the same shape, but then he noticed that she was crying;
smiling, but crying at the same time. The tall, thin, black-haired man standing
next to her put his arm around her. He wore glasses, and his hair was very untidy.
It stuck up at the back, just as Harry's did.
Harry was so close to the
mirror now that his nose was nearly touching that of his reflection.
he whispered. "Dad?"
They just looked at him, smiling. And slowly,
Harry looked into the faces of the other people in the mirror, and saw other pairs
of green eyes like his, other noses like his, even a little old man who looked
as though he had Harry's knobbly knees -- Harry was looking at his family, for
the first time in his life.
The Potters smiled and waved at Harry and he
stared hungrily back at them, his hands pressed flat against the glass as though
he was hoping to fall right through it and reach them. He had a powerful kind
of ache inside him, half joy, half terrible sadness.
How long he stood
there, he didn't know. The reflections did not fade and he looked and looked until
a distant noise brought him back to his senses. He couldn't stay here, he had
to find his way back to bed. He tore his eyes away from his mother's face, whispered,
"I'll come back," and hurried from the room.
have woken me up," said Ron, crossly.
"You can come tonight,
I'm going back, I want to show you the mirror.
"I'd like to see your
mom and dad," Ron said eagerly.
"And I want to see all your family,
all the Weasleys, you'll be able to show me your other brothers and everyone."
"You can see them any old time," said Ron. "Just come round my
house this summer. Anyway, maybe it only shows dead people. Shame about not finding
Flamel, though. Have some bacon or something, why aren't you eating anything?"
Harry couldn't eat. He had seen his parents and would be seeing them again tonight.
He had almost forgotten about Flamel. It didn't seem very important anymore. Who
cared what the three headed dog was guarding? What did it matter if Snape stole
"Are you all right?" said Ron. "You look odd."
What Harry feared most was that he might not be able to find the mirror room again.
With Ron covered in the cloak, too, they had to walk much more slowly the next
night. They tried retracing Harry's route from the library, wandering around the
dark passageways for nearly an hour.
"I'm freezing," said Ron.
"Let's forget it and go back."
"No!" Harry hissed.
I know it's here somewhere."
They passed the ghost of a tall witch
gliding in the opposite direction, but saw no one else. just as Ron started moaning
that his feet were dead with cold, Harry spotted the suit of armor.
here -- just here -- yes!"
They pushed the door open. Harry dropped
the cloak from around his shoulders and ran to the mirror.
There they were.
His mother and father beamed at the sight of him.
"I can't see anything."
"Look! Look at
them all... there are loads of them...."
"I can only see you."
"Look in it properly, go on, stand where I am."
aside, but with Ron in front of the mirror, he couldn't see his family anymore,
just Ron in his paisley pajamas.
Ron, though, was staring transfixed at
"Look at me!" he said.
"Can you see all
your family standing around you?"
"No -- I'm alone -- but I'm
different -- I look older -- and I'm head boy!"
"I am -- 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.
Ron tore his eyes
away from this splendid sight to look excitedly at Harry.
think this mirror shows the future?"
"How can it? All my family
are dead -- let me have another look --"
"You had it to yourself
all last night, give me a bit more time."
"You're only holding
the Quidditch cup, what's interesting about that? I want to see my parents."
"Don't push me --"
A sudden noise outside in the corridor put
an end to their discussion. They hadn't realized how loudly they had been talking.
Ron threw the cloak back over them as the luminous eyes
of Mrs. Norris came round the door. Ron and Harry stood quite still, both thinking
the same thing -- did the cloak work on cats? After what seemed an age, she turned
"This isn't safe -- she might have gone for Filch, I bet
she heard us. Come on."
And Ron pulled Harry out of the room.
The snow still hadn't melted the next morning.
"Want to play chess,
Harry?" said Ron.
"Why don't we go down
and visit Hagrid?"
"No... you go..."
what you're thinking about, Harry, that mirror. Don't go back tonight."
"I dunno, I've just got a bad feeling about it
-- and anyway, you've had too many close shaves already. Filch, Snape, and Mrs.
Norris are wandering around. So what if they can't see you? What if they walk
into you? What if you knock something over?"
"You sound like
"I'm serious, Harry, don't go."
only had one thought in his head, which was to get back in front of the mirror,
and Ron wasn't going to stop him.
That third night he found his way more
quickly than before. He was walking so fast he knew he was making more noise than
was wise, but he didn't meet anyone.
And there were his mother and father
smiling at him again, and one of his grandfathers nodding happily. Harry sank
down to sit on the floor in front of the mirror. There was nothing to stop him
from staying here all night with his family. Nothing at all.
"So -- back again, Harry?"
Harry felt as though his insides had
turned to ice. He looked behind him. Sitting on one of the desks by the wall was
none other than Albus Dumbledore. Harry must have walked straight past him, so
desperate to get to the mirror he hadn't noticed him.
" -- I didn't
see you, sir."
"Strange how nearsighted being invisible can make
you," said Dumbledore, and Harry was relieved to see that he was smiling.
"So," said Dumbledore, slipping off the desk to sit on the floor with
Harry, "you, like hundreds before you, have discovered the delights of the
Mirror of Erised."
"I didn't know it was called that, Sir."
"But I expect you've realized by now what it does?"
-- well -- it shows me my family --"
"And it showed your friend
Ron himself as head boy."
"How did you know --?"
"I don't need a cloak to become invisible," said Dumbledore gently.
"Now, can you think what the Mirror of Erised shows us all?"
Harry shook his head.
"Let me explain. The happiest man on earth would
be able to use the Mirror of Erised like a normal mirror, that is, he would look
into it and see himself exactly as he is. Does that help?"
Then he said slowly, "It shows us what we want... whatever we want..."
"Yes and no," said Dumbledore quietly. "It shows us nothing more
or less than the deepest, most desperate desire of our hearts. You, who have never
known your family, see them standing around you. Ronald Weasley, who has always
been overshadowed by his brothers, sees himself standing alone, the best of all
of them. However, this mirror will give us neither knowledge or truth. Men have
wasted away before it, entranced by what they have seen, or been driven mad, not
knowing if what it shows is real or even possible.
"The Mirror will
be moved to a new home tomorrow, Harry, and I ask you not to go looking for it
again. If you ever do run across it, you will now be prepared. It does not do
to dwell on dreams and forget to live, remember that. Now, why don't you put that
admirable cloak back on and get off to bed?"
Harry stood up.
"Sir -- Professor Dumbledore? Can I ask you something?"
you've just done so," Dumbledore smiled. "You may ask me one more thing,
"What do you see when you look in the mirror?"
"I? I see myself holding a pair of thick, woolen socks."
"One can never have enough socks," said Dumbledore. "Another
Christmas has come and gone and I didn't get a single pair. People will insist
on giving me books."
It was only when he was back in bed that it struck
Harry that Dumbledore might not have been quite truthful. But then, he thought,
as he shoved Scabbers off his pillow, it had been quite a personal question.
Chapter I. The Boy Who Lived
Chapter II. The Vanishing Glass
Chapter III. The Letters From No One
Chapter IV. The Keeper Of The Keys
Chapter V. Diagon Alley
Chapter VI. The Journey From Platform Nine And Three-Quarters
Chapter VII. The Sorting Hat
Chapter VIII. The Potions Master
Chapter IX. The Midnight Duel
Chapter X. Halloween
Chapter XI. Quidditch
Chapter XII. The Mirror Of Erised
Chapter XIII. Nicolas Flamel
Chapter XIV. Norbert The Norwegian Ridgeback
Chapter XV. The Forbidden Forest
Chapter XVI. Through The Trapdoor
Chapter XVII. The Man With Two Faces
Версия для печати
Обсудить на форуме
Материалы по теме:
Читать книги без словаря
Библиотека литературы на английском