I don't own HP

After an entertaining dinner featuring an abundance of food and exploding noise makers, Harry finally was able to slip out of the common room once he was sure Percy Weasley had taken his brown-nosing self to bed.

Swiftly making his way through the darkened halls, Harry made it to the library in almost record time, his excitement adding to his speed.

From what he had observed, the restricted section was meant for NEWT students to delve deeper into specific areas of their studies for their examinations. Things that bordered even Harry's definition of dark magic and certainly crossed the Ministry's definition of such. Even books that would have been in the disproved section normally were kept there if their contents were dangerous enough.

If he were the staff, he would have information he wanted kept away from students locked away behind wards and guarded by the librarian, but he had seen several older Slytherin students slip into the section and out again with a book tucked under their robes while their classmates kept Madam Pince busy.

If Harry had to guess, Pince was trusted to keep people out of the section, but there was more to it than that. Harry had never seen any of the Slytherins actually open the books inside the library. They would always leave the library almost immediately after they had the book. If Harry had to guess, there was some sort of alarm charm or ward linked to the books, probably linked to the permission slips the Ravenclaw students always showed to Madam Pince before retrieving a book.

A quick search through a book titled 'The Beginners Guide to Wards and Related Charms' presented a laundry list of options for Dumbledore to protect the books without actually preventing the students from trying to take them. That way they could catch the students red handed, and hopefully scare them off the books in the future.

So Harry would follow the Slytherin example and had his empty book bag ready at his side underneath the invisibility cloak he had received from either a friend of his parents that he had never met or Dumbledore. As he had noted on Halloween, the man was so much more than he let anyone see at anypoint in time, and the handwriting matched what he could see the old man writing.

Harry's tour de forbidden took much longer than he wanted, and he ended up walking out of the library with his bag almost spilling books out onto the floor. Having to 'window shop' for books by their title and cover only meant he had almost assuredly grabbed a few duds that wouldn't help him very much, but there were a few that seemed promising.

Titles like 'Illusions of the Future' and 'A Wizard's Biology' were just too good to not have something interesting. Maybe the second would finally explain to Harry how an individual's magic would protect them on an instinctive level somehow. It was near the top of things for Harry to learn to bypass, as it kept his illusions to self changes rather than the grand scale deceptions he had dreamt of while kept as a prisoner by the Dursleys.

As Harry was making his way back to Gryffindor Tower and the safety of his bed to dive into his looted books, he felt a tug on his mind, pulling his attention to a hallway in the opposite direction.

It was a curious feeling. Harry was disciplined enough that he brushed off most of the effects, but it was now replaced by a growing suspicion. What exactly was that, who had done it, and what did they want him to find down that corridor.

Could they see him despite his invisibility, and was there some ward set in the hallway meant to draw attention to that specific corridor.

The questions whirled in Harry's mind as he slowly made his way down the hallway, one hand holding his loaded book bag to his side, preventing it from swinging and taking the cloak off him. He could very well be walking into a trap, he knew that, but at the same time, knowing it was a trap negated the surprise of it, meaning that as long as he was prepared, he would be fine.

Of course, he took the additional precaution and made his face look like Ronald's. Even without an invisibility cloak, Harry Potter would never be seen out of bed at night.

Harry crept down the unlit hallway, trying to recall where the compulsion had pulled him. None of the doors really caught his attention the way the hallway itself had, so he kept walking until he noticed the furthest door was half open, leaving the barest hint of moonlight from a window inside the room to shine through. Harry had a hard time stopping his hand from instinctively reaching out and grabbing the handle the second he saw the door. Instead, Harry had his wand drawn from his makeshift fabric wrist holster as he inched his way until he was almost in the door frame itself, hiding behind the door as he gently pressed his hand up against the door, allowing it to swing inwards into the undoubtedly trapped room.

The lack of anything inside the room beyond a large object covered by a white sheet was not what Harry had been expecting, but not a negative. It was a better surprise than opening the door and finding a larger dog with even more heads than the one he had found on the third floor. That would have been both unfortunate and a bit stale, given he already had several theories about how to get around the Cerberus if he so desired.

After several minutes skirting the edges of the room to ensure there would be no surprises other than the covered object and a healthy layer of dust, a sign that the object had been present for some significant amount of time, Harry finally turned his attention to the mysteriou object he was almost certain was the object he was meant to find from the compulsion that drew him down the hallway.

The compulsion itself wasn't that large of a question for Harry. With his preexisting theory that Dumbledore had given him the cloak, it was likely he could see underneath it, enough to track Harry himself and send the compulsion to find the object. Either that, or it was triggered by passing by that specific hallway and had been placed on him earlier, maybe even during the festivities during dinner. Harry was ashamed now to admit he had allowed himself to get caught up in the liveliness generated by the Weasley twins and allowed his guard to drop slightly. It wasn't a mistake he would make again. While Tonks might not have been a manipulator like him, Dumbledore most certainly was, one that out skilled him by a wide margin and had over a century more experience than him.

If he wanted Harry to do something badly enough, Harry had to find a way to do so in a way that best aligned with his own interests. Because the old man could certainly force Harry to do a great many things that he wouldn't otherwise, all it would take was a flick of his wand, if he even needed that. So for now, Harry would play along with whatever Dumbledore had set up, if only to find out what exactly the old headmaster was up to and find a way to make it work for him.

With this in mind, Harry carefully stood to the presumed side of the object and used a muttered levitation charm to lift the sheet off the object. No use advertising that he could cast that particular spell wordlessly and motionlessly in case Dumbledore was unaware and had the room monitored like he suspected. Even if casting dispelled his Ron illusion, that was another thing he didn't mind Dumbledore not knowing, if he didn't already that is.

Under the sheet was a large ornate gold mirror, a series of etching running up and down the sides of the mirror while the surface, while reflective, had some mystical property to it that made Harry think it wasn't glass that would reflect his image if he stepped into its focus.

Harry carefully inched his way around the back of the mirror, sticking close to the wall and keeping his invisibility cloak closely wrapped to him, his stuffed book bag swaying gently at his side. Mirrors could hold a great many dangers. It could be some kind of summoning portal and bring him to a demon plane, or vice-versa and the sight of him could summon a demon into the room. At least, according to the limited fantasy he had seen at number 4. What was much more likely was some form of mind magic.

It could force him to do any number of things, force him under control when he stepped into the view of the mirror itself, it could change his personality, it could even change physical things if the enchantment was strong enough. It was like a magical mystery box that Harry was almost sure would have something negative, even if he was relatively certain it wouldn't result in physical harm.

Unless of course he seriously misread Dumbledore and the old man secretly wanted him dead, but he doubted it. With his fame and status, it was much more likely that the old man wanted him to grow a certain way, follow certain morals. And once he found out what those were exactly, he could act like it when he was being observed by the headmaster. Just another side to his mask.

Inching his way more into view of the mirror now, Harry took a closer look at the many etchings around the edge, the invisibility cloak wrapped loosely around him, hopefully his shield against whatever the mirror was meant to do.

Most of the etchings on the large stand-alone mirror were simple branch like designs, nothing too extravagant or anything hinting at a further purpose of the mirror. Along the top however was a line of nonsense english.

"Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi" Harry mumbled out, trying to recognize the words as any language he had heard before. The use of the english alphabet told him it was a romance language, stemmed most likely from Greek and Latin, but what little he knew of other languages not used in casting or spoken by himself told him nothing.

The only word that he was remotely familiar with was 'ube', and that was because it was the name of the purple yam Aunt Petunia had made him try and cook once. And Harry very much doubted that the mirror had anything to do with vegetables from other places in the world.

So with one last fearful thought of the mirror turning him into a purple yam, Harry stepped into view of the mirror and looked into the glistening not-glass that took up the majority of the face of the mirror.

And he saw nothing but the empty room reflected back in the silvery mirror face.

That meant either the cloak was protecting him, and whatever the mirror did wasn't something he could detect right now. A quick pat down reassured him that he hadn't grown anything extra while he wasn't looking and he was most certainly not a yam, so with a moment to steel his nerves, Harry shrugged off the cloak and looked into the mirror.

The reflection rippled for a moment, showing him as he was first, then rippling to something different.

Gone was the dusty stone room around him, instead the backdrop showed wooden walls, packed with bookshelves, each filled with old leather tomes. A quick glance behind him showed that the room itself hadn't changed, but rather, the reflection had.

Within the book laden room, sat an old man on a leather recliner, one of the many books propped up on his lap. His long hair was white with age, but a balding pattern forming on the crown of his head did nothing to stop the mess of hair from falling into his face and hiding the upper half of his features. A stubble of equally white hair was just barely visible on his chin and upper lip as he read, his mouth occasionally twitching in some kind of amusement at what he read. He was dressed in a simple black robe lined with a soft looking fur, and he was settled back in his chair, feet propped up and covered in large fuzzy socks, unmoving in his relaxation. It was when he briefly paused and looked up from his book that Harry's mind began to race at the impossible image.

The lone green eye in the image reflected back at his own, the ropey scar tissue of the other was halted only by a black eye patch where Harry knew there was nothing beneath.

The…...older image of himself…...gave him a slight smile, the corners of his mouth twitching up slightly in what some might interpret as a slight smile before turning back to his tome, his hair once again shading his eye from view.

It felt like a bucket of cold water was poured down Harry's spine as his fight-and-flight instincts triggered from whatever enchantment they had been under and he quickly grabbed the cloak and covered himself again.

He had thought he had shrugged off the compulsion to go down the hallway, but in reality, it had just settled much deeper into his mind. He had kept rationalizing and taking halting steps forward until he was in front of the mirror, taking a risk he most certainly would not have if he had been in his right state of mind. With the cloak once again around his shoulders and his treasure laden bag held closely to his side, Harry quickly fled the room, not caring that his rushed exit was disrupting the layers of dust in the room and that he left the mirror uncovered.

He had thought, in his arrogance, that he had shaken off an enchantment placed by Dumbledore, when in reality, it was pushing him forward even with his awareness that he had been afflicted by it. It was like he had been confunded on top of being compelled. Confusion to block his instincts and a direction to guide his conscious mind. It was maddeningly complex and incredibly effective. He had played right along with it until it faded after he stepped in front of the mirror.

The mirror. It was clearly an ancient artifact, one of great power, if it did what Harry thought it did. Even now as he slipped back into the common room, he couldn't shake the image out of his mind. It was an image of himself, just as mirrors were supposed to show, but it was himself as he was. It wasn't Harry Potter that had looked back at him, almost as if he knew that the young boy was looking in on him in his advanced age. It was himself, as old as Dumbledore was now, sheltered away and surronded by knowledge.

It was him in the future, or at least, a potential future. Now that he had seen it, would that change his actions that would in turn make that future false, or was it predetermined that because he saw it, it would some day come to pass. A real catch 22 if he had ever seen one. At least it answered his question for what the mirror did, and what Dumbledore wanted from him badly enough that he would layer enchantments on him.

Dumbledore wanted to know his future. If Harry had to guess, there was some kind of recording feature that would show Dumbledore what it had shown him later on. All in all, it wasn't a bad thing really, sure Dumbledore would see the damage done to his face, but he would probably assume that had happened some time between now and whenever in the future that image occurred. It showed him as peaceful and scholarly, and he could live with Dumbledore believing that was him.

As he slipped back into his bed, careful not to wake Ron, Harry took a moment to be grateful that Dumbledore or any other professor hadn't caught him out and about while he was off balance from either the enchantments or what the mirror had shown him.

After all, the last place any trouble maker wanted to be, was caught. It meant more scrutiny in the future and less freedom to act independently of the rules.

No, detention was one of the last things Harry wanted, if only because of how much harder it would be to get away with things afterwards.

Well, that was both shorter than intended and took longer to get out than intended.

The mirror scene has been fighting me for months now, and I think this is the best version of it. Definitely better than the few versions I had written where Dumbledore was there with him or he went back a second time. Harry also doesn't actually know what the mirror shows, or what the image he saw means, but that will all be explained when he does finally get into it with Dumbledore.

I'm pretty sure the next two to three chapters will wrap up first year, I don't plan on writing any more mask development scenes, as Harry basically has that done at this point. I'm trying to show Harry as both paranoid and mature, with a fair bit of ruthlessness to match, so I hope that is coming across well.

No clue when the next update will be, it is hard to write this kind of deep mental thought, but it does keep the writing interesting, so it could be soon or far. And I also started writing my own original story, so that is taking up a fair bit of my time as well.

Happy Reading -Centurion Africanus