Harry and Lilith Potter and The Philosopher's Stone
***
Born on the same fateful night as her twin brother, Harry, Lilith Eva Potter is no stranger to the weight of a famous name. But at Hogwar...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
.·:*¨✧ ☽ ✧¨*:·. ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ☆ ┊ ┊ ┊ ☆ ☆ ┊ ★ ★
Scotland, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, 28th December, 1991
Harry stopped in his tracks, his head snapping toward the voice. The sound of Dumbledore's calm, measured tone seemed to break through the haze of his fixation on the mirror. His shoulders tensed, and his face went pale, as though he had just been doused in cold water. Slowly, Harry turned to face the headmaster, wide-eyed and caught completely off guard.
Lilith stepped closer to her brother, instinctively reaching for his arm in a gesture of reassurance. She could feel the surprise radiating off him, the way his body tensed under her touch.
"Professor Dumbledore..." Harry stammered, his voice barely above a whisper. "I—I didn't know you were here."
Dumbledore smiled kindly, his eyes twinkling behind his spectacles. "It's quite alright, Harry. I was simply keeping an eye on things." He glanced toward Lilith, acknowledging her with a nod before turning back to Harry. "You've been visiting this mirror for several nights now, haven't you?"
He swallowed hard, his eyes darting nervously between Dumbledore and the mirror. "I just... I just wanted to see them again," he admitted quietly, his voice raw with emotion. "My parents... they're right there. I can see them. I can talk to them."
Lilith felt a lump rise in her throat at Harry's words. She tightened her grip on his arm, feeling the weight of his sadness pulling at her. Dumbledore, too, seemed to feel the depth of Harry's longing, but his expression remained calm, understanding.
The headmaster rose slowly from his chair and walked over to the mirror, his hands clasped behind his back as he regarded the tall, ornate frame with a thoughtful expression. "The Mirror of Erised," Dumbledore said softly, his voice almost reverent. "A most extraordinary artifact, but also... a dangerous one."
Harry looked confused, his brow furrowing. "Dangerous? But it's just a mirror."
The girl spoke up this time, her voice quiet but firm. "It shows us what we want most, doesn't it?" She glanced between Harry and Dumbledore, her own understanding dawning. "That's why we keep seeing them... Mum and Dad."
Dumbledore nodded approvingly, his gaze softening as he turned to her. "Very good, Lilith. The mirror reflects not our faces, but our heart's deepest desire. For some, that is knowledge. For others, power. And for you, it shows your family, alive and whole."
"But why is that dangerous?" she asked, her brow furrowed. She did feel unsettled by the mirror, but wanted to know the true reason. "What's wrong with wanting to see them? With wanting to feel... connected?"