The end of term brought with it a quiet exodus. The Hogwarts Express departed, carrying the majority of the student body home for the Christmas holidays. The castle, now draped in snow and festive decorations, felt vast and wonderfully empty. Harry, the Weasleys, and a handful of other students remained, but for the most part, I had the run of the place.
This was the opportunity I had been waiting for. With the castle sparsely populated and the professors distracted by holiday cheer, I could finally dedicate my time to the castle's greatest secrets without fear of interruption. My nights were now spent alternating between two locations: the Chamber of Secrets and the Room of Requirement.
In the Chamber, I continued my intellectual duel with the diary Horcrux. The memory of the young Voldemort was a chillingly brilliant, if deeply narcissistic, tutor. We discussed advanced magical theory, the nuances of soul magic, and the intricate art of spell creation. He saw me as a protégé, a successor he could mold in his own image. I saw him as a living textbook, a resource to be plundered for every scrap of useful, forbidden knowledge he possessed. It was a dangerous, symbiotic relationship, and with every passing day, my understanding of the Dark Arts deepened.
In the Room of Requirement, I practiced. Under the watchful eyes of Andros and Cadmus, I drilled my combat spells, honed my beast-taming abilities, and began to experiment with the ancient, wordless magic I was deciphering from Dumbledore's book. The[Physical Practice]function of the System, which allowed my tutors to temporarily possess my body, was invaluable. I would experience, firsthand, how Andros would react in a duel, how Cadmus would calm a savage beast with a mere projection of will. My skills were not just being learned; they were being forged in the fires of simulated experience.
It was Harry Potter, however, who inadvertently led me to my next great discovery.
One night, while exploring the castle under my Invisibility Cloak—another legendary artifact I knew he possessed—Harry stumbled upon an unused classroom. Inside stood a magnificent, ornate mirror with a cryptic inscription carved into its frame: Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi.
I, of course, knew what it was. The Mirror of Erised. A powerful, dangerous artifact that showed the viewer their heart's deepest desire.
I followed Harry, remaining invisible, and watched as he stood, captivated, before the mirror. I couldn't see what he saw, but I knew the stories. He was seeing his parents, the family he had never known. For several nights in a row, he returned, obsessed, wasting precious time staring at a reflection that could never be real.
Finally, Dumbledore intervened. He found Harry one night, explained the mirror's dangerous allure, and informed him that it would be moved to a new location.
This was my chance.
The night after the mirror vanished, I went to the Room of Requirement. I paced before the hidden door, focusing my will not on a training room, but on a new request. 'I need to see the place where forgotten things are kept. I need to find the artifact that shows the heart's desire.'
The door that materialized was old and scarred. I stepped inside. The room was no longer an empty training ground, but a vast, cathedral-like space filled with towering mountains of lost and hidden objects—centuries of Hogwarts' accumulated junk. And there, in a small clearing, shrouded in a dusty sheet, was the Mirror of Erised.
I pulled off the sheet. The mirror was magnificent, its golden frame intricately carved with symbols of power and desire. I stood before it, my mind a fortress of Occlumency, my emotions carefully shielded. I was not here to indulge in idle fantasy. I was here to gather data.
I allowed a single, simple desire to surface: the desire for knowledge.
The reflection in the mirror shimmered. My own face stared back at me, but my eyes were glowing with a brilliant, golden light, and in my hands, I held an ancient, leather-bound tome that I had never seen before—a book that seemed to radiate pure, undiluted magical power.
[You are viewing the Mirror of Erised.] [System is analyzing the artifact's magical matrix... Analysis complete.] [The Mirror reflects the user's deepest, most desperate desire. WARNING: Prolonged exposure can lead to obsession, madness, and a wasting death. The artifact is a powerful psychological tool and a potential soul-trap.]
Interesting. The System confirmed what I already knew. But then, a new notification appeared, one that I had not anticipated.
[Your mental fortitude and clear, ambition-driven desire have created a unique resonance with the Mirror's magic.] [New Skill Unlocked: [Desire's Reflection (Active)]] Cost: 100 Mana per use. Effect: For a brief period, you can project a targeted illusion into the mind of an individual, showing them a reflection of their own deepest desire. The illusion's strength and believability are dependent on your [Spirit] attribute and your understanding of the target's psyche. It is a powerful tool of manipulation and persuasion.
I stared at the notification, a slow, calculating smile spreading across my face. I had come to investigate a dangerous artifact. I was leaving with a new, S-Rank skill in psychological warfare.
I looked back at my reflection. The handsome, composed face of a first-year student. But behind the calm facade, a king was looking out, armed with yet another weapon in his growing arsenal. The other players in this game were driven by love, by grief, by a simplistic desire for good or evil.
I was driven by a pure, cold, and efficient ambition. And in the end, I knew it was the only thing that would allow me to win.