SILENT MIND - YEAR 1

11. Mirror of Erised

Less than minute had passed since Harry vanished from my sight, and it already seemed too long. Heaven only knows what he faced on the other side now.

It could not be Snape, I was more than certain of it. I glanced over my shoulder to the purple flames, where the unconscious mountain troll was on the other side. It was almost twin to the one we saw in Halloween, and slowly the truth dawned on me.

It was Quirrell who tried to steal the Stone. Who else could let the troll in the school? He obviously was an expert on trolls, once he choosed the one for the trap. But, if so, it meant that maybe Snape also was aware of it? Maybe he went to the fourth floor in Halloween night to stop Quirrell? Maybe Snape threatened him to prevent him from continuing his attempts to reach the Stone? And that meant that Snape was on good side. Of course, his behaviour and appearance could fool anyone and make it easy to believe that he is the bad guy. Then again, not everything is what it seems to be. Not in Hogwarts, anyway.

Snape's words surfaced in my memory – "There's something you should know. In spite of common belief, I would never do anything to betray Professor Dumbledore's expectations of me. I'd suggest you to remember that before jumping to any conclusions. As for Potter, Weasley and Granger, I do hope that you will do your best to keep them out of trouble since you're the eldest one among them."

Impossible as it may seem, I think that Snape knew we were suspecting him and he tried to give me a hint that we are gravely mistaken. He also seemed to know that we had a plan, perhaps he even figured out we would try to do what we did tonight. And he expected me to keep them out of trouble. What a display of trust, I thought sarcastically.

I glared at the black flames that seemed to be deadly at first sight. I had to find a way how to reach the door and help Harry. It was insane for him to be there alone, face to face with Quirrell and maybe even Voldemort. But the bottle of the only potion that could allow me to pass through the flames was empty.

Or maybe not.

I picked it up and carefully examined. At the very bottom a single drop of potion still had remained. It may have not work, but at current moment it was better than nothing. Hoping that Snape did not messed up with it to prevent any magical interference, I pulled out my wand and cast a non-verbal Repleo, a rather simple spell that was also known as Refilling Charm which should refill a container with its current contents.

The bottle immediately refilled itself with the previous liquid. Now there was enough for more than two people to use it. Another flick of wand to cast Disillusionment, and I was ready to join Harry. I closed my eyes and took a sip from the bottle, mentally crossing my fingers in hope I did not accidentally turned the potion into poison.

My blood turned into ice, the insides froze, my skin covered with frost – in few seconds I turned into a walking icicle. Of course, none of it actually happened, it was merely the sensation of being frozen that indicated that the potion had worked its miracle. I took a deep breath and stepped through the black flames. The fire caressed my skin softly and painlessly like a feather. In no time I was on the other side, carefully opened the door and sneaked inside the last room.

I stood at the top of large, marble stairs. The large room was surrounded by a colonnade. Harry stood on a third step from the bottom, a bit further I spotted Quirrell – damn, how I hate to be right about bad things – and in front of him was a huge, full-length mirror in golden frame. I tiptoed down and moved closer to read description above the glass – Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi.

What on earth was this language, I wondered, then shifted aside, my wand ready to cast a hex at Quirrell who carefully examined the mirror. I could not see the Stone, but I had a pretty good guess that its hiding place had something to do with the mirror.