Dumbledore pulled his thin wand out from under his garbs. The mirror in front of him was cracked and dusty, almost as if it had been years since someone last saw it. But he knew that wasn't true. Not too long ago, Harry had been here, staring into this mirror, fooled into thinking that his parents where standing just behind him. It felt like an eternity ago.

It was this very mirror that held the key to keeping Voldemort from fully returning. It had caused so much trouble in the little time it's spent at Hogwarts, and it's time Dumbledore destroyed it, now that it's purpose had been fulfilled.

He held his wand against the reflective surface, purposely keeping his eyes averted. He already knew what he would see in the mirror. But regardless, the temptation got the best of him, and he slowly turned his eyes back to his reflection.

He looked as he always did, long gray beard and thick blue garbs, but he wasn't alone in the mirror. Behind him was a young boy, maybe in his late teens with shaggy black hair and light green eyes that matched his mother's.

Harry was maybe a few years older than he was now, but still looked just the same. But there was one huge noticeable difference. Under those shaggy bangs there was no lightning scar, under his eyes there were no bags from constant worry, and his face held a bright smile. It wouldn't seem like much at first glance, but Dumbledore knew better. Had Harry never met Voldemort, this is what he would look like. This is what Dumbledore wanted him to look like.

Dumbledore smiled when he remembered what he told Harry that he saw in the mirror. Socks. Yes, he really did want a nice pair of socks, but deep down, there were other things he really desired. Like a happy Harry, a safe Hogwarts, and a sure promise of a brighter future for all wizards. Dumbledore sighed and tapped his wand against the mirror.

But who's to say it wasn't for the best? What if, just what if, meeting Voldemort had been better for Harry? No, that was a silly thought. No one deserved to go through the things he knew Harry would have to go through. The most he could do was delay the inevitable.

But as the mirror eroded to nothing but dust, he caught one last thing in the mirror. Now it wasn't Harry there, but his parents. They looked like they did when they were still attending Hogwarts, and they looked absolutely delightful. This morphed until they were adults, and in there hands was a bundle of blankets. A little Harry. What was this supposed to mean? He never heard of the images in the mirror changing, at least not so suddenly.

The mirror was almost completely gone now, only a foot or so near the floor left. The image of Lily and James disappeared as the mirror shrunk into nothing. Before it left, it had one last image to show him: on his feet, he could catch the fleeting image of socks. Thick, fluffy, pink socks. Just like the kind he always wanted. He chuckled. Maybe he hadn't been lying to Harry after all.

Then it was gone. Just a pile of dust where there once used to be a grand mirror. Maybe this really was for the best. Some went insane seeing the things they desired the most, and had Dumbledore been any less wise, he might have to. But there was no changing fate. What was done has been done, and he would just have to accept that. No matter how much he wanted things to change he knew they wouldn't. But, if the years have taught him anything, it's that sometimes the things we desire most aren't always what's really best for us in the end.