Chapter 48: "Am I Right, Headmaster?"

Chapter 48: "Am I Right, Headmaster?"

Hidden beneath the Invisibility Cloak, the two boys moved silently, climbing slowly towards the upper floors of the castle.

"Mr. Shelby," Harry whispered as they crept along, "what do you think of Professor Snape?"

Leon raised an eyebrow under the cloak. "Harry," he replied, his voice muffled, "you can't expect a Slytherin to speak ill of his own Head of House."

Harry was silent for a moment, then blurted out, "I think he's trying to kill me. During the Quidditch match, he was cursing my broom. Trying to make me fall."

He'd sooner break his own neck than let a single hair on your head be harmed, Leon thought, but kept it to himself.

"Sometimes, Harry, your eyes deceive you," Leon said eventually. "Don't let your emotions cloud your judgment." Whether Harry would understand was another matter.

"No! It's true! Hermione saw him during the match on Saturday! Anyway, never mind that..."

"Alright, enough chatter," Leon interrupted. "We've been wandering for over half an hour. Focus on finding the way."

It took them nearly another hour of navigating the labyrinthine castle before they finally stumbled upon their destination: a disused classroom.

It was clearly abandoned. Unused desks and chairs were piled haphazardly against the walls, and an overturned wastepaper basket lay in one corner.

But standing in the centre of the room was a mirror, completely out of place with its surroundings. It was tall, reaching almost to the ceiling, with an ornate gold frame. It stood on two clawed feet.

Leon and Harry emerged from under the cloak, both staring at it.

Without a moment's hesitation, Harry rushed forward and stood before the mirror. His expression instantly transformed into one of pure bliss. His eyes glistened, and his breathing quickened.

After a long moment, he spoke, not daring to turn his head, afraid to look away from the mirror. "Mr. Shelby, come quickly! Look in the mirror!"

Leon didn't move. "Tell me what you see, Harry Potter."

"My family," Harry's voice choked. He didn't seem to notice that Leon had used his full name, a rare occurrence. "Mum is smiling at me. Her eyes – Mum's eyes are just like mine! Dad's right beside her, his arm around her, smiling at me too..."

"And... all my other relatives are there... They all have green eyes like me, the same nose..."

"Mr. Shelby," Harry whispered, "this is the first time I've ever seen my family."

His voice had taken on a strange, almost feverish tone. He gazed intently into the mirror. Leon, standing to the side, could clearly see Harry's eyes filling with an obsessive longing, bordering on madness.

"Rennervate," Leon murmured, casting the Reviving Spell. Harry flinched, seeming to come back to himself slightly.

"If I'm not mistaken, this is the Mirror of Erised," Leon said, stepping forward and placing a firm hand on Harry's shoulder, forcing him to turn away from the mirror.

Seeing the lingering reluctance in Harry's eyes, Leon gave him a rough shake, his voice sharp.

"This mirror offers you nothing real, Harry. It only shows the deepest, most desperate desire of your heart. You've never known your family, so the mirror shows you your family."

"If Ron were to look into it, he might see himself as Head Boy, outshining all his brothers."

"If Hermione looked, she might see herself graduating top of the class with perfect marks."

Harry seemed to finally understand, looking dazedly at Leon. "But Mr. Shelby, I..."

"The Peaky Blinders have no use for cowards who drown themselves in fantasy, Mr. Potter," Leon said, staring directly into Harry's eyes. "All this mirror offers is useless comfort. Tell me, how many times have you come here?"

Harry had never seen Leon look at him like this. He flinched. "This is the second... alright, the third time."

"Wrong answer," Leon corrected him coldly. "You should have said, 'the last time'." He paused, his tone softening slightly. "Be a man, Harry."

Harry took a deep breath. He didn't speak, just gave a firm nod. Leon, seeing this, felt a flicker of satisfaction. He patted Harry's shoulder, ready to leave.

"Aren't... aren't you going to look?" Harry asked suddenly, as if just remembering.

Leon didn't even turn around. "I don't need a mirror to tell me what I desire."

They draped the Invisibility Cloak back over themselves and retraced their steps, first returning to the entrance of the Slytherin common room. Leon slipped out from under the cloak, said goodnight to Harry, and entered the common room. Harry continued on towards Gryffindor Tower.

It was very late. The common room was dark and silent, except for one figure: an old man in eccentric wizarding robes, sitting on a sofa, nibbling on a lemon drop. On the table before him sat two cups of tea, steam still rising from them.

Seeing Leon enter, the old man beckoned him over. "Mr. Shelby. Come and sit."

Slightly surprised, Leon walked over and sat opposite him. He picked up one of the teacups and took a sip, then immediately frowned. "I've heard you have a fondness for sweets, Headmaster, but isn't this many sugar lumps a bit excessive?"

"Ah, my apologies. I forgot to add less sugar when preparing your cup," Dumbledore said, tapping his forehead with a comical look of regret. He quickly adopted a more serious expression. "Breaking curfew warrants deduction of points and detention, Mr. Shelby. Might I inquire as to where you were?"

As if you don't already know, Leon thought, rolling his eyes internally. Stop playing games. He simply stared back at Dumbledore in silence for a long moment before speaking. "I went to that disused classroom you prepared. To look at the Mirror of Erised."

"..." Dumbledore, who had been taking a sip of his own tea, nearly choked.

"The day before the Gringotts break-in," Leon continued calmly, "I happened to be there exchanging Galleons. I saw Harry and Hagrid. Later, Harry mentioned Hagrid had retrieved a small package."

"Then, Harry mentioned a legendary wizard—Nicolas Flamel. And that this wizard possesses a remarkable Philosopher's Stone."

"You, Headmaster, happen to be a close personal friend of Nicolas Flamel. Add to that your specific warning at the start of term about the fourth-floor corridor..."

"It's difficult not to connect the dots, Headmaster Dumbledore."

Leon looked directly into Dumbledore's eyes, his voice quiet but filled with certainty.

"The Philosopher's Stone is here at Hogwarts, isn't it?"

"Am I right, Headmaster?"