Chapter 16: 6-3

I sprinted through the deep shadows of the Hogwarts corridors, hand in hand with Harry. A heartbeat later, 'his' loathsome voice echoed through the cold hallway.

"STUDENTS OUT OF BED! SO LATE AT NIGHT! STUDENTS! IN THE CORRIDORS! THEY’RE INVISIBLE—!!"

It was him—Peeves, the ultimate embodiment of chaos. It was the worst possible timing. And what made it even worse was that, despite us being under the Invisibility Cloak, he seemed to be trying to grab at the fabric as if he were used to this.

No, I didn't need to be told. I knew. My father and his friends must have encountered Peeves countless times while under this very cloak. That’s why the pest was so used to dealing with invisible people!

"Harry! In here!"

While running, I spotted a gap in a doorway out of the corner of my eye and guided Harry toward it. Whispering under my breath, I pressed my back against the door, slipping our two small bodies inside. Peeves' voice, still taunting and summoning Filch, faded into the distance.

I let out a breath.

We were in an abandoned classroom. It looked like it hadn't been used in ages; desks and chairs were piled in the corners, and dust motes danced in the air despite the lack of light. And there, standing in the center—entirely out of place—was a single mirror.

Ah. This is...

"Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi...?"

Harry stood before the mirror. He traced the inscription on the frame with his finger, chanting the words. —“I show not your face but your heart's desire.”

I drew close to the small boy, holding my breath as I stood beside him.

"Dad? Mum?"

As expected, Harry saw the figures of the Potter family within the glass.

His green eyes blinked rapidly. He touched his own shoulder, turned around to confirm nothing was there, and then peered back into the mirror. Then, he looked at me.

"We really do look just like them."

"...We do."

"Hagrid and Professor McGonagall always said we were the spitting image of our parents. They were right. We look so much alike."

Harry’s hand touched the surface of the mirror. I placed my hand over his in the same spot.

Oh... Albus. James. Lily.

In the reflection, the 'me' I used to be held Albus, who nuzzled against my cheek. James stood in the middle, holding hands with 'me' and Lily, while Lily held hands with James and Ginny. Ginny looked at 'me' with a happy, smiling face.

Behind 'me' stood a tall Ron and Hermione, holding the hands of Hugo and Rose. Behind Ginny were George—who still looked like a troublemaker no matter how much he aged—and Fred. A twenty-year-old Fred. The Fred from 'that day.'

Bill, Charlie, and Percy stood around Fred, and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley watched their sons with joyful expressions. Occasionally, they glanced at 'me' with smiles that seemed to say, “You are our son, too.” Fleur and Angelina were there as well, their children playing together harmoniously.

Behind my best friends were Sirius and Professor Lupin. Lupin held hands with Teddy, who in turn held hands with Tonks. Beside Tonks, Mad-Eye stood skillfully on his wooden leg, and further back, Professor Snape, looking as grumpy as ever, was talking with Dumbledore, who wore a vacant, cheerful smile.

Beside Snape, Cedric stood in his Quidditch uniform from that day, smiling proudly. Luna, Neville, and all the friends whose bonds of friendship would never fade stood shoulder to shoulder, grinning. Above Dobby and Kreacher, Hedwig soared as if watching over them.

And then, further beyond...

Separated by a space, as if by some barrier, were my father and mother, with a young Harry between them, holding their hands and laughing innocently.

Behind that Harry, a grown-up Draco stood, positioned as if to protect the young boy.

"There are so many of them," Harry whispered.

"Yeah."

I nodded hollowly at the voice of the Harry who wasn't inside the mirror.

I knew that what Harry and I were seeing was entirely different. Even so, the feeling we shared in that moment was the same.

It was so dear, yet so painful. I want to see you all.

"...Shall we head back, Maria?"

"...Yeah."

I squeezed his small, chilled hand and pulled the cloak back over us. Harry led the way, but I turned back for a moment, feeling as though someone had called my name.

From within the mirror, a dark, hateful, lonely version of 'you'—who knew nothing of love and held no one's hand—stared at 'me' as if you were about to vanish. Or so it seemed.

The girl stared blankly at the moon in front of the gaping entrance leading down to the dungeons. She clutched a mysterious cloak in her hands. She looked like snow just before it melts into the clarity of the night.

She was alone.

Then, a single light from a lantern flickered to life.

"Maria."

"Good evening, Draco."

The girl turned, her red hair swaying slightly. Under the moonlight, she seemed to glow with a pale blue light.

She possessed a beauty that almost seemed artificial.

"I didn't think you'd be awake, Draco."

"When else would I stay up late if not during a holiday without any overseers? Ah, but perhaps that’s a concept a Potter—with a hobby for midnight strolls—wouldn't understand."

"...Are you a little angry?"

Following Draco as he marched forward by the light of his lantern, we passed through the chillingly cold Slytherin Common Room and slipped into his private room. It seemed Draco had been lucky enough to be given a single room; the interior was fully decorated in the somewhat gaudy taste he preferred. No, maybe it wasn't luck—it was probably because he was a Malfoy.

"You... I’m the only one left in the Slytherin dorms. Not a single other person is here. Do you understand what that means?"

"Of course. That’s exactly why I'm here. If any other Slytherins found me, there’d be an uproar. A Gryffindor student infiltrating the Slytherin dungeons?"

I sat on the edge of his black-themed, excessively smooth bed, checking the difference in quality from my own bed without any hesitation. Draco’s sighs were endless. They were so exaggerated they felt intentional. Actually, they definitely were. I pouted and glared up at him from the bed.

"What?"

"Nothing. I was simply reflecting on my mistake in trying to seek understanding from a 'Princess'."

"Stop calling me that."

It was cold enough already; I didn't need him giving me goosebumps.

"So? What is this about?"

Standing over me, Draco reached into his robes with an overly theatrical gesture and pulled out a piece of old parchment—the twin to my communication parchment. On it, a single word written in my handwriting had surfaced: 'I want to see you.'

"...It’s exactly what it says. Though, I would have been fine just seeing you in the morning."

"That’s a lie. This came after we said 'goodnight.' And at this hour, too. —What happened?"

Draco sat down beside me. As the bed effortlessly took the weight of two people, I noted in the back of my mind that the furniture in the 'Noble' house truly was of a different caliber.

"...I wanted to check on the Horcruxes."

".........."

Even to my own ears, it was a pathetic, hesitant claim. It sounded entirely like an excuse. In response, he silently unlocked the third drawer of a cabinet and pulled out a large, ornate box. He flicked his wand, unraveling several counter-charms, and opened three more locks.

Inside the box, finally revealed after the heavy sealing, lay two objects I knew all too well: a notebook and a tiara. Riddle’s Diary and Ravenclaw’s Diadem. The Diadem, which we had recovered from the Room of Requirement, was being kept by Draco at his own request.

To be honest, I had intended to keep them myself—the diary included—but Draco simply wouldn't budge.

The truth was, when it came to curses and dark artifacts, Draco was more knowledgeable and skilled than I was. He was an expert at sealing things; most of the magic he had just undone was designed to isolate the objects from the surrounding space entirely. There was little need to worry about the Horcruxes' mental influence on him. Though, 'little' didn't mean 'none.' After all, a piece of Voldemort's soul was clinging to them.

Furthermore, given how Slytherins valued their internal connections, it was unlikely anyone would go rummaging through the personal effects of the Malfoy heir. In reality, Draco was the perfect person to entrust with such cursed items.

...Still, I didn't want anything to happen to him, so I wished I could take them back as soon as possible.

"Satisfied?"

I nodded reluctantly at his snide question. He began resealing the Horcruxes in reverse order. Which meant...

"Well then, your business here is finished, isn't it?"

".........."

He was right. I had to leave. Immediately. I should stand up, say goodnight to Draco again, and go.

I knew that. I knew, and yet—I couldn't move. I didn't want to leave his side.

"Just confess already. —Harry."

"——!"

Being called by that name at such a moment caused a small, strangled sound to escape my throat.

Confess? Oh, honestly... he was absolutely right.

"I saw the Mirror of Erised."

"Ah... I believe you told me about that. The mirror that shows one's desires?"

"Everyone was in it."

"...I see."

"Sirius was laughing—Professor Lupin was holding hands with his son. Fred looked like George's younger brother again. Cedric waved. Dumbledore had his arm around Professor Snape’s shoulder, and Snape was glaring at him. Everyone was there."

".........."

"It feels... so heavy."

I curled up on his bed, pulling my knees to my chest. Just for this moment, I wanted the world to let me disappear.

"I got scared. Mum and Dad were there too—the ones I can never get back—and I... can I really save everyone—"

"Harry."

His fingers, slightly cool, slowly brushed past my ear and rested on the nape of my neck. His voice, calling me 'Harry,' was as addictive as a drug.

"The Mirror of Erised doesn't show what you can't get back. It shows what you want. Isn't that right?"

"Yeah."

"You were just confirming your own desires. That’s all there is to it. —Of course it’s scary. We think we know the future, but the truth is, we don't know a thing. We’re the same as everyone else. Nothing has changed. We just happen to remember some specific memories and a tragedy."

"...Draco."

"It’s okay to be scared, Harry. It’s okay to be afraid. ...Because I’ll be here, holding your hand."

The hand Draco placed over mine was small. Much smaller and softer than the one I remembered. It was a child’s hand.

And yet, to me, it felt larger than anything else. It was the hand of my only ally in this world.

"Draco, call my name."

"Maria."

"Yeah."

"And... my Harry."

"...Yes."

I leaned my head gently against his shoulder. The way Draco called me Harry sounded completely different from the way that lonely boy in the mirror had said it.

"...Alright, now that you've calmed down, it's time to go back, Maria."

"Eh? I can't stay the night?"

"No. You. Can't."

"But there's no one else here."

"That’s exactly why you can’t!"

The hysterical voice of a boy whose voice hadn't yet broken snapped my brain out of its drowse—a state brought on by the perfect balance of the room's chill and his warmth. Draco grabbed the lantern and hauled me, who had been fully prepared to sleep in his bed, all the way back to the stone stairs leading to the surface.

"How many times do I have to say this? Maria Potter. Remember your current gender."

"Our relationship has nothing to do with that. It’s not like Umbridge is here."

"..........Fine. I shall report those words to your younger brother tomorrow morning."

"Wait, what?"

"And you can look forward to a lecture from Granger once the holidays are over."

"Gah!"

While we were bickering, I was successfully escorted all the way to the portrait of the Fat Lady by this surprisingly attentive 'vampire.' Good grief. He’s gotten remarkably good at this.

"Honestly... get some sleep, Maria. If the 'Princess' gets dark circles under her eyes, your red-headed 'Imperial Guard' will never hear the end of it."

"You too. Stop the late nights that everyone can see through and enjoy a proper Christmas. Though, I don't recommend dousing yourself in wine again."

We exchanged biting remarks as a form of greeting and leaned in to briefly brush cheeks.

"Goodnight, Maria."

"Goodnight, Draco."

I stifled a yawn, my tension having completely evaporated. I watched Draco descend the stairs with his single lantern until he was out of sight. When I finally faced the Fat Lady in her evening silk, she murmured nostalgically, "Goodness, I wonder when you snuck out, you naughty girl. But very well, it is Christmas. Still... to think that even at eleven, one is already quite the lady." I had no idea what she meant by that.

After giving the password and stepping through the portrait hole, I found that—unlike the Slytherin dorms—the fire in the Gryffindor Common Room was still smoldering. A boy with messy black hair was staring blankly into the embers.

"Harry...?"

"Welcome back, Maria."

A sleepy Harry smiled softly, the red of the fire reflecting in his eyes.

"What are you doing here, Harry? Was Ron’s snoring too loud?"

"That too, but... mm, since it's a special occasion, I wanted to sleep with Maria. Besides, you went and took our Invisibility Cloak right away."

I sat down next to the drowsy, floppy Harry. Before I knew it, we were curled up together under a blanket on the sofa, just like we used to be. Oh?

"Were you waiting for me? Here? The whole time?"

"Mmm..."

"...Were you worried about me?"

"I’m always worried about you. You're my sister."

"...I see."

"There, there," Harry murmured, hugging me and stroking my hair. It was the exact opposite of our usual dynamic. Harry had realized it. He knew the Mirror of Erised had shaken me.

...As I thought, the Harry of this world is much, much more incredible than 'I' ever was.

"...Thank you, Harry. Goodnight."

"Goodnight, sweet Maria."

He kissed the crown of my head. I felt an unconditional sense of peace.

Suddenly, I remembered a certain pretentious blonde doing something similar not long ago, but for now, I simply embraced the warmth of my dear family. I let my heart soak in the sound of his breathing—and in the gentle silence of Christmas night, the two lonely souls fell into a deep sleep.