"No!" shouted Hermione Granger. "Madam Hooch told us not to move -- you'll get us all into trouble." Harry ignored her. Blood was pounding in his ears. He mounted the broom and kicked hard against the ground and up, up he soared; air rushed through his hair, and his robes whipped out behind him -and in a rush of fierce joy he realized he'd found something he could do without being taught -- this was easy, this was wonderful. He pulled his broomstick up a little to take it even higher, and heard screams and gasps of girls back on the ground and an admiring whoop from Ron. He turned his broomstick sharply to face Malfoy in midair. Malfoy looked stunned. "Give it here," Harry called, "or I'll knock you off that broom!" "Oh, yeah?" said Malfoy, trying to sneer, but looking worried. Harry knew, somehow, what to do. He leaned forward and grasped the broom tightly in both hands, and it shot toward Malfay like a javelin. Malfoy only just got out of the way in time; Harry made a sharp about-face and held the broom steady. A few people below were clapping. "No Crabbe and Goyle up here to save your neck, Malfoy," Harry called. The same thought seemed to have struck Malfoy. "Catch it if you can, then!" he shouted, and he threw the glass ball high into the air and streaked back toward the ground. Harry saw, as though in slow motion, the ball rise up in the air and then start to fall. He leaned forward and pointed his broom handle down next second he was gathering speed in a steep dive, racing the ball wind whistled in his ears, mingled with the screams of people watching -- he stretched out his hand -- a foot from the ground he caught it, just in time to pull his broom straight, and he toppled gently onto the grass with the Remembrall clutched safely in his fist. "HARRY POTTER!" His heart sank faster than he'd just dived. Professor McGonagall was running toward them. He got to his feet, trembling. "Never -- in all my time at Hogwarts --" 118
"I don't need a cloak to become invisible," said Dumbledore gently. "Now, can you think what the Mirror of Erised shows us all?" Harry shook his head. "Let me explain. The happiest man on earth would be able to use the Mirror of Erised like a normal mirror, that is, he would look into it and see himself exactly as he is. Does that help?" Harry thought. Then he said slowly, "It shows us what we want... whatever we want..." "Yes and no," said Dumbledore quietly. "It shows us nothing more or less than the deepest, most desperate desire of our hearts. You, who have never known your family, see them standing around you. Ronald Weasley, who has always been overshadowed by his brothers, sees himself standing alone, the best of all of them. However, this mirror will give us neither knowledge or truth. Men have wasted away before it, entranced by what they have seen, or been driven mad, not knowing if what it shows is real or even possible. "The Mirror will be moved to a new home tomorrow, Harry, and I ask you not to go looking for it again. If you ever do run across it, you will now be prepared. It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live, remember that. Now, why don't you put that admirable cloak back on and get off to bed?" Harry stood up. "Sir -- Professor Dumbledore? Can I ask you something?" "Obviously, you've just done so," Dumbledore smiled. "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." Harry stared. "One can never have enough socks," said Dumbledore. "Another Christmas has come and gone and I didn't get a single pair. People will insist on giving me books." 171
Hermione let out a great sigh and Harry, amazed, saw that she was smiling, the very last thing he felt like doing. "Brilliant," said Hermione. "This isn't magic -- it's logic -- a puzzle. A lot of the greatest wizards haven't got an ounce of logic, they'd be stuck in here forever." "But so will we, won't we?" "Of course not," said Hermione. "Everything we need is here on this paper. Seven bottles: three are poison; two are wine; one will get us safely through the black fire, and one will get us back through the purple." "But how do we know which to drink?" "Give me a minute." Hermione read the paper several times. Then she walked up and down the line of bottles, muttering to herself and pointing at them. At last, she clapped her hands. "Got it," she said. "The smallest bottle will get us through the black fire -- toward the Stone." Harry looked at the tiny bottle. "There's only enough there for one of us," he said. "That's hardly one swallow." They looked at each other. "Which one will get you back through the purple flames?" Hermione pointed at a rounded bottle at the right end of the line. "You drink that," said Harry. "No, listen, get back and get Ron. Grab brooms from the flying- key room, they'll get you out of the trapdoor and past Fluffy -- go straight to the owlery and send Hedwig to Dumbledore, we need him. I might be able to hold Snape off for a while, but I'm no match for him, really." "But Harry -- what if You-Know-Who's with him?" "Well -- I was lucky once, wasn't I?" said Harry, pointing at his scar. 230
"You let Professor Dumbledore in..." "Well, of course, that was the headmaster, quite different. You need rest." "I am resting, look, lying down and everything. Oh, go on, Madam Pomfrey..." "Oh, very well," she said. "But five minutes only." And she let Ron and Hermione in. "Harry!" Hermione looked ready to fling her arms around him again, but Harry was glad she held herself in as his head was still very sore. "Oh, Harry, we were sure you were going to -- Dumbledore was so worried --" "The whole school's talking about it," said Ron. "What really happened?" It was one of those rare occasions when the true story is even more strange and exciting than the wild rumors. Harry told them everything: Quirrell; the mirror; the Stone; and Voldemort. Ron and Hermione were a very good audience; they gasped in all the right places, and when Harry told them what was under Quirrell's turban, Hermione screamed out loud. "So the Stone's gone?" said Ron finally. "Flamel's just going to die?" "That's what I said, but Dumbledore thinks that -- what was it? -- 'to the well-organized mind, death is but the next great adventure. "I always said he was off his rocker," said Ron, looking quite impressed at how crazy his hero was. "So what happened to you two?" said Harry. "Well, I got back all right," said Hermione. "I brought Ron round -- that took a while -- and we were dashing up to the owlery to contact Dumbledore when we met him in the entrance hall -- he already knew -- he just said, 'Harry's gone after him, hasn't he?' and hurtled off to the 243