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The Mirror of Deen by Ivy Riddle
Chapter 1 : Chapter 1: The Mirror of Deen
 
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If one was to pick up the Marauder’s Map, and look for Harry James Potter, one would find his dot in the library, in the restricted section, overlapping a dot labeled Ginny Weasley.  If one were to look at Harry in person, one would see him locked in a fierce embrace with Ginny Weasley, snogging with a fervor that left one to wonder how either of them was breathing.  Finally, after a time when normal people would be unconscious from lack of air, the couple broke apart.




“It’s getting late, Gin.  You want to head back to the tower?”  Harry asked, un-fogging his glasses.




“I would, Harry,” Ginny said, turning to the large stack of books and parchment on the table.  “But I have a long essay to finish for Binns’s class…stupid git.”  She frowned, her small freckled nose twitching cutely with the action.  “As if anyone got anywhere in life by writing a two foot long essay on the Vampire Renaissance of the 16th century.”




“Well, don’t stay down here too long.  Peeves is out and the last thing you need is to get into more trouble with Professor McGonagall.  She’s not pleased with you as it is.”  Harry said, becoming irritated at what he had to tell her.




“I didn’t hurt Justin when I flew into him.  Honestly, the way she raved, you’d think I set a chimera on him.  If he wasn’t being such a biased git with his commentary, I wouldn’t have done it.”  She, retorted, doing a very good demonstration of a sulking teenager.




“He said ‘And Miss Weasley misses the shot, tough luck, there.’” Harry snapped back.  “Besides, you got banned for two games.” He had a sinking feeling he shouldn’t have waited so long to tell her the news.




“I WHAT!?” Her face was absolutely outraged.  Looking hard, Harry could see traces of Molly in her face, which wasn’t a sight he wanted to see in his girlfriend.




“McGonagall told me after you left the office.  You’re banned the next two games.” He said grimly.  “Natalie McDonald’s filling in for you.”




“But when we win against Hufflepuff on Thursday, we go to the final!  I can’t sit out the final!  It’s not fair!”  Ginny was ready to go into a Molly Weasley-esque temper.  He had more than once been on the receiving end of her wrath…it wasn’t fun.




“I know.  I don’t like it anymore than you do.  Just stay out of trouble, all right?  The team will be just fine, don’t worry.  You’ll be flying next year and you’ll be captain.  You have a whole year of Quidditch left.  Take a breather and concentrate on school, okay?  I’ll see you when you come up.”




With that, Harry gathered up his books, kissed Ginny goodbye (who was still fuming), and left the library, pinching the bridge of his nose, lamenting Ginny’s spitfire temper.




Harry was restless.  He didn’t want to go back to Gryffindor tower.  He wanted to fly, to do something not related to studying his eyelids and then dreaming of doing unspeakable things with Ginny that Ron would kill him for.  Maybe he would try the Room of Requirement…it might transform into a Quidditch pitch with a broom. 




He walked by the hall where the door usually appeared.  It didn’t show up.  Either it was in use already or it didn’t think Harry needed anything.  ‘Stupid room,’ He thought savagely.  ‘It’s never useful anymore.’ 




He took an alternate path to Gryffindor tower, knowing Peeves would be ‘guarding’ the main path.  He turned that corner and this corner and went into the zigzagging hall, his mind on things other than getting back to the common room.  He wasn’t paying attention to where he was going at all…




So imagine Harry’s surprise when he found he was lost in the castle for the first time since he was a first year.




Harry was only slightly worried.  He’d been in worse scrapes.  It was just a matter of asking a portrait where to turn and walk, that was all. 




He heard footsteps…and a voice to match them.




“Look closely, my sweet.  I know there’s a student out of bed.  I can smell the little snot-rag.  Search the little delinquent out, my dear.”  Argus Filch was getting ready to round the corner.  Harry panicked.  He groped the air around him for a doorknob…there had to be one somewhere…there!  He opened the door and flung himself in and locked it, just as Filch, bulbous nose coved by a filthy handkerchief, rounded the corner with his scrawny excuse for a cat, Mrs. Norris.




“Lumos.”




Harry held his lit wand aloft and looked around the room.  It was a large, long unused classroom.  The desks were stacked one on top of the other.  The teacher’s desk was pushed up against the wall.  And right in front of Harry was a large mirror that he had seen only twice before, both times in his first year.  It was the Mirror of Erised, the mirror that showed not his face, but his heart’s desire.  He stepped up to it, knowing already what he would find:  He, Harry married to Ginny, standing with a child or two.  That was what he wanted more than anything.  He looked.  His jaw dropped.  His stomach clenched.  His hands went numb.  Harry was rendered speechless.




He was standing with a wife and children all right…just not the wife and children he expected.




Harry Potter was standing in the mirror, married to Luna Lovegood




And he looked happy.  His face was joyful as he smiled lovingly over at Luna, who, the real Harry thought, looked nearly the same, only older, prettier, and disturbingly sexier.  Their five children were of varying ages, with either blond or black hair, and there was one red head.  Some had their mother’s wide silver-blue eyes; the others had emerald eyes identical to his. 




Mirror Harry had a wife and children.  He had a family.  He looked so happy and contented, that the real Harry felt a pang in his heart.  Harry grinned sadly.  The mirror was losing its touch.  He loved Ginny, not Luna.




***




 After staring at the mirror, entranced, for what seemed an eternity, Harry left the room and started looking for a portrait that would point him back to Gryffindor Tower.  On the fifth floor, he ran into something, and that something fell back onto the floor.




“You know, Harry, you should really watch where you are going.”  A dreamy, unconcerned voice had spoken.  Bloody hell.



“Luna?  What are you doing up?  If you get caught--” He needed to get away from her.



“I never get caught.  I’ve been roaming the school at night ever since I was a first year…it gets lonely sometimes, but I think the castle looks simply lovely when the moon shines through the windows.  Don’t you?” 

She had lit her wand, and Harry could see her wide, silver-blue eyes and straggly, dirty-blond hair pulled back into a ponytail.  Her cheeks were flushed and she was smiling dreamily.  Simply put, she looked really quite lovely. 




“Oh, yeah.  It looks real…pretty.” 




“It does.  I especially like sitting on the astronomy tower, but nowadays it’s full of teenagers snogging.”  She seemed to be completely unconcerned.




“Is it really?”  ‘Oh no.  Please don’t let her have seen Ginny and me up there.




“You should know that, Harry.  You’re up there with Ginny a lot.  It almost makes me wonder how you two breathe…do you use Carklof powder?  It has special breathing qualities; they use it in the Alps.”




“Oh, yeah.  Sorry about that.”  Wait, he shouldn’t be feeling guilty!




“There’s nothing to be sorry about.  Ginny is your girlfriend after all.  She seems to enjoy it up there.  I know she sometimes enjoyed it up there with Michael and Dean.  Dean was usually trying to get her to talk with him, not just snog.  Ginny was usually silent though.   Michael would kiss her, facing the sky, and memorize the positions of the stars, to complete his charts for class.  He bragged about it in the common room.  That’s not very nice, is it?  I’d have let him go, too.”  Luna was looking completely unconcerned.




Harry felt a brief stab of anger towards Michael for his treatment of Ginny, which was gone nearly as fast as it had sprung up.  He felt sorry for Dean, who had always been a gentleman towards Ginny.  He almost wished that Luna had said nothing.  She had the oddest knack for mentioning uncomfortable truths.  She was brutally honest, yet he sensed compassion in her words.  Luna was very protective of her friends, as she had very few.




“Yeah, boys are prats,” Harry said.  “Absolute prats.”




“Oh, don’t be silly, Harry.  You’re only a prat a great once and a while.”  Luna said.  He had a sinking feeling in his stomach; she didn’t sound as though she was joking.  He didn’t want her to think that he was a prat.  For some reason, Harry wanted Luna to see him at his very best.




Before Harry could stop himself, he spoke.




“Say, Luna?” 




“Yes, Harry?”  She was looking at him intently, as though nothing else in the world could be more important than him at that moment.




“Have you ever heard of a mirror called the Mirror of Erised?”




“Yes, I’ve even looked in it as well, one time in Dumbledore’s office.  ‘I show not your face but your heart’s desire.’  That’s what the funny writing means.  But it’s been gone for ages.  I haven’t seen it since my second year.  Dumbledore said it was destroyed after that year, sad, really.”




Harry didn’t know what to say.  He was extremely confused.




“But it does have a sister mirror, the Mirror of Deen.” She continued on, dreamily. “The writing at the top, mirror language, you know, says ‘I show not the desire but the need of the heart.’  Beautiful idea, isn’t it?  To show not what your heart desires, but what it needs.  Some people would be a lot better off with what they truly needed to become whole rather than what they think would please them at the moment.”




Harry was speechless…‘Then that mirror was…’




“Luna, is that mirror in the castle?  Right now?”




“Yes, it is.  Do you want to see it?” Luna’s face lit up and for a moment, Harry saw her as the lovely woman he had seen in the mirror.  It was disconcerting.




“I guess so.”  Was Luna right?  Was there such a mirror?  Had the Mirror of Erised really been destroyed?




Luna squealed happily.  “Follow me,” she said, leading him down the hallway he came from, towards the empty classroom.  Harry’s stomach constricted.  He was very confused.  Confused and afraid of what he knew.




They reached the room, Harry’s mind wondering.  He ended up bumping up against Luna for the second time that night.  This time, it was her back he ran into, and her back, he realized, after only a second’s touch, melded perfectly along his front.   Harry blushed and quickly wiped that thought from his mind.




“Harry, I think we may need to have you examined.  I think your glasses aren’t as effective as they have been.”  Luna stared at him, shaking her head in an amused way.  She had told a joke.  A smile played about her mouth and, for the third time that night, Harry realized how nice looking she really was.




“Yeah, definitely.”  Harry was grateful that Luna couldn’t read minds, as it would have been very awkward had she known that Harry was having romantic thoughts about her while dating Ginny.  Somehow, Harry didn’t think Luna would approve of anything of that sort.




They went into the room, and once again, Harry saw the large mirror.  And looking at it, Harry saw that it wasn’t the Mirror of Erised at all.  It was the Deen mirror Luna mentioned.  It was silver; where as the Mirror of Erised was gold.  The writing on the top was different too:  ‘Trea heht fod een eth tu beris edeht ton who si.’




Harry wondered what Luna saw.  It was a deeply personal question, and Harry wasn’t even sure if asking it would be polite.  He opened and closed his mouth several times.




Luna must have noticed, because she looked at him after looking into the mirror for a time.




“Yes, Harry?”




“I was…I was…er, just wondering, what you saw.   You don’t have to tell,” he added quickly. “I was just curious.”




Luna gave him a smile, and a look that said ‘Don’t you wish you knew?’




“Can I have a look?”  He asked, stepping toward the mirror.




“Oh, sorry.  It was rather rude of me to hog the mirror.  Go ahead.”  Luna drifted off in the classroom, examining maps and graffiti on the desks. 




Once again Harry looked, and once again Harry saw Luna.  Once again Harry saw his mirror family.  Once again Harry saw how happy he could be, how happy his heart needed to be.  Once again, Harry thought he was losing his mind.




Mirror Luna walked over to Mirror Harry, and they stood close to other, smiling at Real Harry fondly.  The Mirror Children, Real Harry saw, had gathered around them, all dressed nice, the youngest holding a stuffed bunny by the ears.  The oldest looked suitably responsible; the others looked like a nice family.  One little girl looked just like how her mother was now, only years younger.  One boy had Harry’s glasses, as did the second eldest, a girl, who alone had red hair, like Harry’s mother. 




It was a beautiful family, and there was a twinkle of mischievous intent around them that Real Harry expected had come from having Mirror Harry and Mirror Luna as parents.  Real Harry stared, entranced.  Could this be his?  Was this what awaited him?  Or was it merely a suggestion as to what he should do?




Harry had never been so confused in his life.  He was torn.  And what was to say that Luna even liked him as more than a friend?  She had always believed in him, joined his cause because of friendship, and had sacrificed and risked as much as Ron and Hermione.  She had always been friendly and although Harry would never believe in all she said, her faith in the world was something that Harry admired.  But was that enough to build something as wonderful and whole as this?




“Sickle for your thoughts, Harry?”  He turned around.  Luna was smiling at him.




“I just, it’s just that…wow.”  Harry ran a hand through his ever-messy hair.




“Yes, but don’t get lost in the mirror, Harry.  You ultimately decide what is right for you, though the mirror does have a very good notion.  The dwarves were very good at these kinds of things.”  Luna spoke as if dwarves were a part of every day’s conversation.




“Dwarves?”




“Yes.  They made mirrors and they were miners.  They mined for quicksilver.  Though, if they could find very quicksilver, a magic mirror could be made.  These were the last two made before the Sapphire Mine War in 1838.  Since then, the only mirrors made have been Foe Glasses and regular mirrors.”  Luna’s eyes had lit up while reciting her knowledge.




“Dwarves make mirrors?”  Harry asked, wondering if this was another one of Luna’s great conspiracy theories.




They left the room and went for a walk, still talking.




“They used to.  Only six or seven hundred of them remain now.  Once the Goblins set up traps outside the mines, none of the dwarves could leave without dying.  Then the Goblins took over the mining business, though they’ve not been as successful.  They can’t coax the very quicksilver to come out.  They can only find quicksilver, and that’s not worth as much.”  Her voice had a sound of great satisfaction, as though the Goblins had gotten what they deserved.




“But before the war, the dwarves had a raging empire.  The magic mirrors in the castle all came from them.  The magic mirrors in the fairy tales, particularly the one in Snow White, all came from the dwarves.  That mirror has been lost for ages now.  I don’t think it will ever resurface.”  Her voice got quiet.




“How do you know all of this?”  Harry was curious.  This didn’t seem like the kind of thing that would be in ‘The Quibbler.  And, if it were true, was that why the Goblins were so rich?




“Do you promise not to tell anyone?”  Luna’s voice was anxious.




“Yeah, I promise.”




“I learned from my Great-Grandmother, who was a half faery, a quarter dwarf, and a quarter wizard.  My family is somewhat mixed with other magical beings, though we haven’t mixed since her.  She died during my third year.  Dad will never print this stuff, because the Fae and dwarves like their privacy.  They’re very proud, a lot like the Centaurs, though a bit nicer.”  She looked intensely at him, as though waiting for him to tell her to go away; he didn’t want to be friends with a faery girl.




“I won’t tell anyone.  I’ve never met one of the Fae before.  Is there any special thing you can do because of it?”




“Other than see and hear extremely well, no.  I suppose it’s the reason I can wonder the corridors late at night and not get caught, not that I would mind very much if I did get caught.  What’s a few house points compared to moon and stars?”




Harry smiled.




“So, was the war the reason the Goblins are so rich?”  Harry asked.




“Yes, and the reason the Ministry always tiptoes around them.  Goblins are very nasty creatures when they want to be, and they really don’t like the Fae.  Dad has never let me go into Gringotts alone; he’s too scared of what would happen to me.  Goblins can smell Faery blood, you see?”




Harry had a feeling that Luna was sharing a part of her life with him that no one at Hogwarts had ever heard before.  Luna was very straightforward, but she carried secrets around with her, never really opening up.

“Wow. “ Harry was struck by another thought.  “What about Flitwick?  I heard he has goblin blood in him from a few generations ago.”

Luna stared at him.  "We get along.  With him, the blood is barely there, though he did sit me down during my first year to let me know what he was.  He’s never tried to hurt me; he’s gotten too old.  He’d rather live out the rest of his life in peace than mess with the Fae.  Occasionally he’ll go and see his family and he’ll come back really tense, but I just go to the room of requirement and sleep there, rather than in the dorms.  He really is a good, sweet old man.”




Harry wondered just how hard of a time Luna must have keeping her secret from the rest of wizarding world.  There were harsh prejudices against half-bloods, and Luna had done an exemplary job of keeping it quiet.




They continued to walk, ending up in front of the Room of Requirement, and the door appeared.  Harry and Luna looked at each other, obviously wondering if they should go in or not.




“Should we?”  Luna asked.




“I suppose.”  Harry answered.




They went inside, and saw a little table with two chairs.  The table was spread with tea and cups and scones and biscuits.  A faint tune was playing, a type of Muggle jazz, soft and calming.




Harry settled Luna into her chair before taking his own seat.  They poured the tea, and sat there for a while, talking about anything and everything: Quidditch, the newest conspiracies in the Ministry, and Harry’s childhood, a topic he rarely, if ever, discussed.  The room got very quiet then, and Luna moved her chair by his, comforting him as she heard about his living under the stairs for eleven years, being beaten up by Dudley and his gang, the disgust that his Aunt and Uncle felt for him. 

Suddenly, Luna pushed away from Harry, stood up, and walked to the door.




“Luna, wait!  What’s wrong?”  Harry was bewildered.  He didn’t want her to leave.




“I can’t Harry.  This…it’s wrong.  I can’t.”  Luna said, worriedly.




“I wouldn’t try anything, Luna, I swear-” He was cut off.




“I know that!  I trust you completely, Harry.  It’s…it’s my self I don’t trust.”




And she was gone, leaving Harry alone at the table, with a sad jazz music wailing lightly.



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