Disclaimer: The usual disclaimer applies. The two italicized sentences at the beginning are direct quotes from the first book.

A/N: This is a fic I've had written for a while but am only getting around to posting now. I know this idea has been done before, but hopefully my version will bring something new and different. I'd really appreciate any feedback, so please, please take just a moment to review once you've finished it. Thanks for reading.

Harry thought. Then he said slowly, "It shows us what we want...whatever we want..."

"Yes and no," said Dumbledore quietly.

Albus knew what he would see if he looked into the mirror, even after all these years, and it certainly was not what he wanted to see. Even now, as he sat in front of the mirror, his gaze was fixed solidly on Harry Potter as the boy walked from the classroom with his cloak and Dumbledore's warning to stay away from the mirror in tow.

For the past few nights, he had watched the boy become more and more transfixed by the mirror, unable to remove himself from the one-dimensional world where his family was still alive. If there was one thing Albus was sure of, it was that he could no longer allow Harry's addiction to the projection of his desire to grow. And so, Albus had come up with another use for The Mirror of Erised, and quite a brilliant one, if he did say so himself. The mirror would be moved by Rubeus and Argus tomorrow. Albus didn't dare help move it himself, for fear he would glimpse into it.

"Sir - Professor Dumbledore? Can I ask you something?" the boy had one more question, of course. Albus expected no less of him.

"Obviously, you've just done so," Albus said, smiling at him, though he knew already what the question would be. "You may ask me one more thing, however."

"What do you see when you look in the mirror?"

"I? I see myself holding a pair of thick, woolen socks. One can never have enough socks." Socks; it was as good an answer as anything. It was partially true that Albus wished for socks, though, if the child was a bit older, perhaps it would have dawned on him that socks would certainly not be one's deepest, most desperate desire. But, maybe with immaturity, or simple willingness to trust, Harry bought it (albeit with an odd look). Albus smiled at the boy and got to his feet with a gentle finality, gesturing towards the door with his hands. The young wizard left the classroom and didn't look back.

And then Albus was alone. Alone with the mirror, alone with the chance of releasing the darkest secrets and hopes that he even repressed from himself. He did not want confirmation of what he desired. Young Harry Potter could look into the mirror and see a living family, a family which had not been murdered. It was what the innocent child wanted more than anything. But the boy knew nothing, nothing, about desire. Desire wasn't just want, as the innocent so often mistook it. Desire was the need you couldn't control, an insatiable lust that could overcome the most steadfast witch or wizard. To know one's desire was to be damned by your own sordid heart.

Yet, plenty of the strongest, bravest, most brilliant of the magical world still wasted away before it, knowing the risks but unable to stop themselves from looking straight into the dark chambers of their heart. That, Albus hoped, was not his fate. As he had told Harry, the mirror would be getting a new home.

But perhaps a small glance now would alleviate his need to seek it out at another time, a time when no one was scheduled to take it away and save him if he became too far gone in his own desire. And maybe it would not be as he feared. Maybe his heart had changed.

By a force almost completely uncontrolled by him, Albus raised his bearded chin to look into the mirror. At first he saw only his own reflection - a tired old man, hiding behind the twinkle in his eye, but then, they began to appear. First Ariana and Aberforth. His beautiful little sister stared back at him, smiling not the serene, distant smile she'd had in her adolescence, but a conscious, truly happy smile, straight at him as she reached to grasp his hand in her small one. Aberforth was also smiling at Albus, and nowhere to be found was the permanently-etched scowl on his face, the underlying bitterness and blame in his eyes.

Behind his siblings, only slightly, were Albus's parents. His father had a calmness that Albus did not remember, and his mother held none of the tension and terseness that had been a product of having a daughter beaten to insanity and a husband thrown in jail for want of revenge. They were looking peacefully at their three children in front of them with nothing but love and joy in their eyes.

For a moment, Albus felt himself relax. As painful as it was to see the shadow of his family, complete and well in front of him, it was also as wonderful. It was as if he had discovered the resurrection stone. Unaware of anything beyond the glass of the mirror, he saw his own arms outstretch, ready to embrace his family, to tell them how very much he loved them and how sorry he was for his foolishness.

But then someone else began to appear. In the background at first, only a dark image, but soon after he quickly approached the front of the mirror and took shape. Albus gasped, feeling his wrinkled hands beginning to shake and sweat as he repeatedly whispered, "No, no..."

Ignoring his pleas, Gellert advanced, pushing Ariana and Aberforth backward to take the front position for himself, a cunning smile on his pale lips. Albus covered his mouth with one hand, feeling the tears start to drip onto his skin as his most horrible fear stood before him. How could it be? He loved his family. That was what his heart wanted, for them to be united again. Why would the mirror show him the young man who had torn what had once remained of it apart, damaged the last few branches of the tree beyond repair? Albus no longer loved the smooth-faced wizard he saw in the mirror. He hated him, feared him, had even fought him. And yet...the Mirror of Erised told no lies. He desired him. After all these years, after all he had done to them, he still desired Gellert Grindlewald.

"No," Albus moaned, unable to tear his eyes from the mirror now. It was a confirmation of all he had feared; he was selfish to the point of still desiring what had ruined his family. It was Gellert that stood in front of his siblings, his parents - the only ones that had ever truly loved him.

"No!" he shouted it now, unable to stand it any longer. He pounded his fist against the glass. How much he had wanted to see only his family, but desire was not want. With a strangled cry, Albus took off out of the room, leaving his heart's most horrible, desperate desire behind, but carrying the image in his head for what he knew would be eternity.