Author: Prlrocks
Spoilers: PS, COS, POA, GOF and OoTP
Rating: I'll say PG-13 for now. It may later go up to R.
Summary: A mysterious event and visions of a past that can never be, change Harry and Snape's lives forever as they learn the truth that had been hidden from all.
Ships: Snape/Lily; Considering a ship (which will go nameless) for Harry. May or may not happen.
Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all characters associated with the books are property of J.K Rowling. I'm just writing this for the fun of it.
Notes: This chapter is lots of setup. Hope it's not too boring. Feedback of any sort would be loved. Constructive criticism is more than ok, but please no flames.

The hall was bustling with activity by the time Severus Snape had swept through the door of 12 Grimmauld Place. An important meeting was about to take place, and there were many issues that needed to be dealt with. It didn't matter that it had only been three weeks since the incident at the Ministry of Magic. Much had changed in that time. Snape, himself, had a vital update about Voldemort's activities and was both anxious about and dreading its reveal. Within the next few minutes, every possible member of the Order of the Phoenix who could be here, was required to do so, and it seemed as though many had already arrived. A few, standing nearby, acknowledged his presence with a slight nod or smile. He did his best to reciprocate the greeting, but it didn't come easily to him. He had never been fully at ease in the company of most of these people, and Snape doubted he ever would be. That was so, even with him craving the recognition that most gave him, but they were not of his kind, no matter where his loyalties lay.

When the hall began to empty, he headed down the old set of stairs to the dim basement kitchen below. Here, some members had already taken their seats around the long wooden table and were in the mist of intense discussions on recent events. Not wanting to be bothered by their chats, Snape silently took his own seat by Dumbledore's side and waited for the meeting to begin. When at last, the final person they were waiting for entered and the door closed firmly behind them, all eyes turned to their leader, Albus Dumbledore, who was currently anything but his usual cheerful self.

"I thank you all for being here. I know these days are busy ones and we are all tired, but it is for that very reason, these meetings are so needed. To come together for a moment. To be aware of those around us. It is only working together, that we will ever bring this to an end."

He paused shortly, to allow his words to sink in and to take in those around him. "And I wish we could further talk pleasantries, but we can not. In the past two weeks, we've seen the grave harm that the Ministry's past reluctance in admitting Voldemort's return has caused. Though most of his old followers are now in the Ministry's hands, Voldemort is no weaker for it. He used his time well in the past year. Our hope that his desire to retrieve the prophecy would override the necessity to strengthen his forces, alas was false. He has. The dreadful acts committed in the wake of his existence becoming known are proof enough of that."

With a nod of the head, Dumbledore passed leading the conversation over to Snape. It was time to reveal what he knew. He gave no greeting, or thanks for their attendance as Dumbledore had. He felt it a waste and far from what they were here for. Nothing was needed, he told himself, besides the disclosure of cold hard facts he had entered with.

"Besides the Dementors and the Giants, Werewolves… have also joined the Dark Lord's league."

Lupin slumped into his chair at these words. No one, who had heard the way Snape had said Werewolf, would dare doubt Snape's anger and disgust over the subject. It had been spoken with such contempt, many were shocked to see Lupin hadn't run from the room as though he were Neville Longbottom, himself.

"I also have it on good information," Snape went on, his tone much lightened, "the Vampires will soon be joining them and that even an attempt at using the House-elves is being made.

"House-elves," Bill Weasley scoffed. "You can't believe that?"

From the amused sound from several in the room, Snape knew Weasley wasn't the only one questioning that. Crossing his arms across his chest, he narrowed his eyes on the redheaded young man. "Why, yes, I do." A taunting sneer came to his face. "And though, I'm sure your personal exposure to House-elves is limited, I thought you might like to know for the next time a House-elf offers you tea. It might be poisoned."

"The House-elves could never-"

With the wave of a hand Dumbledore hushed them both. "It's something we must consider. Even if they're not willing, they could be used and though sadly they do not follow their own free will, they are powerful creatures. And we must remember, many of the families who'd possess an elf are the same ones who'll lend their hand into Voldemort's efforts."

The room was hauntingly silent, as all comprehended the implication behind this. So much of the very foundation of Wizarding society would be upset if such a plan came into being. It was bad enough one couldn't trust regular folks around, but House-elves? Just one badly motivated House-elf making its way into an institute like Hogwarts and the results could get ugly.

"What else have you for us, Severus?"

Far more, but it was an unpleasant subject for Snape, just as the Werewolves must had been for Lupin. He'd much prefer going back to talking about the damage those creatures, which had nothing to do with him, were causing in the Muggle communities, but the necessity of this information being known was clear. "With his Death Eaters in Azkaban, the Dark Lord has begun recruiting new followers. Like before, he is turning to the young and some, like before, are still students."

Molly Weasley, whose eyes went wide as saucers, looked particularly startled by this news. "What about the other children?" She exclaimed excitingly. "When they go back to Hogwarts… Ron, Ginny, Harry? Are they safe?" The news was far worse than the potential of some rogue House-elves any day, in her mind.

"Of course they are Molly," her husband countered lightly, though he too looked concerned.

"Hogwarts is one of the safest institutions in all of Europe, Mrs. Weasley," Minerva McGonagall said sternly. She didn't like someone doubting the Hogwarts staff's ability to care for the children. "It'll be open, as always, come September with extra precautions in place."

"Hogwarts has gotten use to eventful school years with Harry attending," Dumbledore added, eyes twinkling. He gave them a warm reassuring smile before taking a serious tone again. "And we'll keep an eye on those who are at the most risk for being recruited, doing our best to advise and guide them. Severus, in particular, will be helpful with that."

Snape's snapped his head up at the Headmaster's words. He understood completely what that meant. Dumbledore expected most, if all of his Slytherin house, to go to the Dark Lord's side. Like before… like him. No matter how much truth may be behind it, he could not stand for it being said. "You speak as though being a Slytherin makes one bound for his service," he snarled angrily.

"No," Dumbledore answered softly. "However most of the ones who's families followed Voldemort, are likely to do so themselves. It's the choice of each individual what they become, of course, but I'm not blind to the reality of what is likely to happen."

"Which have turned?" Moody forcefully asked, trying to turn the conversation back to what he considered the issue at hand.

"Malfoy. The boy is too trusting of me, very un-Slytherin like of him," Snape snickered. "His father would be much displeased if he found out. It's how I learned of these new recruitments. Promises were made to the sons of all his Death Eaters. Their father's recovery in exchange of their loyalty."

"Do you think this was planned?"

"It's likely," Dumbledore stated, answering Moody's question. "It would have been quite a victory for him to not only learn the full prophecy, but gain a fresh league of supporters as well. He knows fully the old will return to his side should they escape. Is Malfoy the only one?"

"I assume Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle. Where Draco is, they are sure to follow. Otherwise, I don't know yet. Perhaps Nott, though the boy won't be so eager." He hoped. "That is all I've learned," Snape finished, yearning for the conclusion of this topic.


"With all the attacks, the Ministry is strained for resources and it's hard to know whom to trust. There are rumors the Imperius curse is in use again."

Three hours and much debate later, the even more exhausted members of the Order filed back up the stairs to the hall. Most were quiet. The somber feel of this dismal place was ever consuming. First, the death of one of their own, the master of the house Sirius Black and now the start of what had already been coined the second war. It was hard to bear, yet all knew the darkest days were ahead.

Remus Lupin was among those in the crowd. Upon seeing that Dumbledore was at last free from a discussion with several other members, he worked his way over to him.

"May I have a word with you?"

"Of course. What's on your mind, Remus?"

"Harry, he's written, but I don't believe he's as fine as he claims. Not even close. Are you sure-" Lupin ceased he's own question, knowing the answer and feeling guilty for having bothered Dumbledore about it again. But he couldn't help it. He hated knowing Harry suffered and for whatever the reason, could not leave that place, which caused him so much misery. At least, not until after his birthday.

"No," Dumbledore sighed wearily, knowing just as well what Remus was asking. "I'm afraid not. It'll only be a few weeks and then he can return here, but I do know something you can do for him."


"Come back to Hogwarts."

Lupin's face filled with shock. "What about the Ministry? I still am what I am and they'll never accept that, especially after the recent developments."

"Don't worry about them… or the Order. With the appending situation, they are already distracted and Fudge is still nursing his own wounds. I'm sure, I'll be able to convince them to grant you permission to return to Hogwarts and Harry needs you. By helping him, you'd be helping our cause more than you'd ever know." Lupin seemed speechless, but nodded approval.

"Good," Dumbledore smiled in return and patted him on the back for support. "You look tired."

Lupin nodded again and said his goodbyes so he could head upstairs to his room. On his way up he passed the young Ginny Weasley carrying a large brown bag and heading in the opposite direction. He was lost in thought and hadn't answered her greeting, but Ginny hadn't particularly minded. She, herself, was too busy grimacing as she passed the screaming portraits along the way. Mrs. Black was in a particularly foul mood since her son's death and was letting, to all who could hear, that fact be known.

Dropping the cloth bag to the floor, she grumpily rubbed her aching head before realizing she was being watched.

"Hello, Miss Weasley." Dumbledore peered down upon her through his half moon spectacles. "Is something the matter?"

"No. I'm fine, I guess. Just a bit of a headache. She never shuts up."

He laughed and waved his wand over her head, taking the pain away.

"Thank you."

Dumbledore's eyes traveled to the portrait, whose curtains were fluttering angrily. "She's in mourning," he stated seriously.

"Why? She hated her son."

"Perhaps. Though she considers him a traitor to everything her family stood for, he was the last of the Blacks. With his death, the Black family has become no more than a memory."

"Oh. What is to become of this place now Sirius is dead?"

"He's left it and all he had to Harry, though the Order may use it till his 17th birthday."

Thump! Looking down, Ginny saw the bag she had been carrying had opened on it's own and some of contents had spilt out. One item, a moldy old book with in faded gold lettering, was actually slowly creeping away as if in escape.

"Where have you found all this?" Dumbledore asked, scanning the items below; most forbidden and undoubtedly dark.

"Ron found a hidden room upstairs, yesterday," Ginny said as she tried to pick the book up, which to her shock snapped at her. "Mom doesn't want any of us in there so it may take her a while to clean out. She just asked me to move some of this stuff out of the way for her though."

Ginny was grateful as Dumbledore assisted her and returned most of the items to the bag. All except a hand-mirror, backed in black metal and incrusted with three tiny glinting gems, Sapphires. Ginny found it enchantingly beautiful and wondered if he felt the same.

Tracing his fingers over the ruins, the old wizard's eyebrow lifted.

"What is it?"

"Old magic," he said as though it answered the girl's question. "Old and forgotten."

Striding down the long corridor, Snape reached the entrance to the stairwell for Dumbledore's office and muttered the password to be let in. As usual, he was not spending the summer at Hogwarts. None of the professors were, nor did they ever, but never the less he had spent more time here in the last two summers than all the others combine. Dumbledore insisted on meeting him here or in one of their homes weekly, whether he held new information or not. Snape could not help but wonder what the motive behind these frequent meetings was. He trusted Dumbledore, but did Dumbledore trust him? Were these meetings to just keep an eye on him? It was something he'd long questioned and, if indeed true, would be a hard blow for him to take. He'd spent the last seventeen years repenting his past sins and hoped it wasn't in vain. He prayed there was another rationale behind them.

"Ah, welcome Severus," Dumbledore greeted cheerfully, gesturing to the chair for him to sit as he entered. "Right on time as usual." The man smiled as he handed Snape a cup of tea he had just poured.

Snape nodded and muttered a thanks to his host.

"How have you been?"

"I haven't gathered anything new since last week," Snape answered plainly. He felt disappointed but did not show it.

And Dumbledore himself appeared even less so. His eyes had their typical twinkle and even seemed a bit brighter today than they had of late. "That's fine and to be expected. I know you try your best, but if I recall right, I didn't ask about your duties. I asked how you were."

Snape eyebrow shot up, being far more surprised then he should be at Dumbledore clear interest in his welfare; his asking wasn't that uncommon. "Grateful for not having to deal with the Neville Longbottom's of this world," Snape smirked. "It's the best part of the summer… and I'm otherwise well, I suppose."

"Very good."

Dumbledore went to pour himself another cup of tea from the shiny silver tea pot and as he did, a glitter, reflecting off an object on Dumbledore's desk, caught Snape's eye. It was a mirror. Snape doubted just any common mirror.

"What is it?" Snape inquired, eyeing it with question.

"The Mirror of Aislinn." Pausing, Dumbledore saw it held no meaning for Snape and went on, "A truth mirror."

"Ah," Snape said, utterly unimpressed.

"Though, it is not as limited as all that. It not only allows the viewer to see what truly is, like most truth mirrors do, but also what was. Much like a pensieve, though the viewer can only see what was in their past, no others, and the vision doesn't have to be one the person even remembers. They just had to have been present."

Snape picked up the mirror and glanced it over. The black metal work was complex and Celtic in design or influence. At it's center was a bird with two sapphires as eyes and one grasped in its beak. "Practically all flash and no show, I believe. Much like many other things in life."

"Ah, but I was not finished. Unlike our dear Sibyll, it can also give us glimpses of one's future." Severus snorted, at his words, seemingly much to Dumbledore's delight. "However, out of the four, that is the foggiest. I believe the holder must themselves have the gift."

"Four? What's the last?"

"The one, which makes this mirror nearly as rare and precious as the Philosopher's Stone itself was. The ability to see what could have been."

Snape's mouth gapped slightly and he blinked in surprise. "I didn't think that was possible."

"I heard about it in my youth. I had thought and was sure it was the product of myths; when I came across the mirror, it had astonished me greatly. I have since been using it to review my decisions in the past year - to see how changing certain factors would have affected the outcome of this year. Valuable knowledge to be certain and far more effective than the pensieve, but I have found it doesn't always ease the mind."

"How does it work?" Snape's tone had an extremely unusual level of awe to it, and his eyes remained solidly fixed upon the mirror.

"Are you wishing to use it?"

"Yes." With the word spoken, the glass hazed over causing his pulse to race in excitement. His eyes widened at the dense shades of blue that swirled about the mirror; it was like staring into murky blue waters. "I'm sure, I couldn't live my life in more…" 'regret than I do now,' he finished mentally, unable to make that realization known outloud.

"All you must do is ask, and it will show you what you wish to see."

Snape nodded with understanding, and his mind settled instantly on that one moment. Not the one people would assume if they knew him, but another. Could it all have been different? His mind begged to know. What if it had all been different? As he did, his own gaze now hazed over and he felt a whirling sensation, much like the one caused by Floo Powder. He had thought he'd just be sitting there just watching, not this.

One minute, he was sitting in the Headmaster's office and next, lying huddled on a floor, tangled up in his own robes. Lifting his head up, he pushed his greasy hair out of his eyes and peered about the unfamiliar room. It was dark, cold… and eerie. A poor excuse for a fire was the only source of light provided within the shady room, and its crackling log lit barely more than a small patch of wooden floor in front of it. Just beside it, a dark figure was seated in the shadow. Only after taking some steps forward, was Snape finally able to distinguish the identity of the man that his eyes now rested upon. It had worked! Snape could scarcely believe it, but he was staring was at his own self, some 15 years younger. He was hunched over, wrapped in an old frayed blanket and gazing steadily into the low flame. Concern was etched on the young man's every feature. He looked tired and worn down, almost as much as the very seat he sat in. The bags under his eyes gave the impression of one who hadn't sleep in weeks. And he was alone… very much so.

Is this what would have become of him if she had chosen differently? Just as alone and living in what appeared to be near poverty? He could barely believe it.

Knock, knock, knock.

Breaking from his reflection, he noticed his younger double had already jumped up and was staring at the door with extreme apprehension. It hadn't mattered that the person had knocked, his younger self was nervous. Just as much as he, the elder, was curious. There hadn't been much that could've caused this type of reaction from him, even fifteen years earlier, and those things that could have tended to be of the darker sort. With his wand clutched in his grasp, the younger man quickly walked over to the door and after giving one look behind him, he cautiously pushed the flimsy curtain aside. The sigh of relief that came told the elder it was safe. The door was hurriedly opened and immediately, Snape heard the hushed voice of his twenty-one-year-old self speaking to another man. He had been about to step closer so he could hear what they were saying, when a sound to his right caught his attention instead. His heart once again began to race at the sight before him. Not alone! Lily, she was indeed there and currently peeking through the crack of the bedroom door. Evidently, she was trying to hear the whispers of the others as well. Snape could see she too had her wand held tightly in her hand.

When the door closed and the man had left, she entered the room at last. Barefoot and wearing a nothing more than a white cotton night grown, she scampered across the cold room to where the young Severus Snape was standing. He seemed completely overwhelmed by something.


"It's over," he stated softly.

Lily's eyes were shining with hope, but after taking yet another step forward, her face fell again, suddenly. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." After letting out a shaking breath, a small smile finally came to his face. "It's just hard to believe."

"Dumbledore! He won!"

"No. Not quite," he corrected her, promptly.

Snape watched as his younger self led Lily to the couch, where he had been sitting a short while earlier, by the hand. Once there, he wrapped his blanket around her and used his wand to restore the dying fire. As he gently took Lily's hands into his own, Snape could tell his younger self was preparing to tell her something.

"It was the Longbottoms-"

"They defeated him?!"

"Not quite," he repeated. Seeing she was about to speak, he placed his finger to her lips to quiet her, quickly. "Thurston believes it was their son who actually…"

Lily's green eyes widened with shock.

"How, I can't imagine, but Lily, I must tell you this. I-- I know you were fond of the Longbottoms-"

"And you weren't," she teased him with a grin, to which he gave her his own. Only his had a bitter feel to it.

"No. Although I'm thankful… Their sacrifice means our life can go on."

"Sa… Sacrifice?" Both men knew she understood completely, but didn't want to.

"Only the child lived, Lily."

With these words, tears formed in her saddened eyes, and Snape saw his younger self pull his Lily into his arms. Stroking her long, red hair tenderly, he murmured soothing words, in a way the older never dreamed he could. When had he gone from the bitter lonely boy he was to the man before him, he could only imagine.

They remained like that for some time, comforting and kissing one another. It was only when the shrilling cry of a child filled the room, that they broke apart at last.


"No," she said getting up. "Let me."

"Maybe it's time for us to both go to bed."

"Mmm, yes maybe." She paused a second, before entering the bedroom. "We'll get married before people see us again, won't we, Severus?"

"Of course." Was the last thing Snape heard as they closed the door behind them and he found himself in Dumbledore's office once again. The Headmaster was standing behind him, his hand on Snape's shoulder. Both the touch and that fact Dumbledore might have seen something made Snape uncomfortable.

As if he could tell Dumbledore soothed, "No one, but those in the vision can see what the mirror shows. If someone, such as myself, were to look while you were, the vision would end."

"Is that what happened?"

"No. It's getting late."

Snape wondered how much time truly had passed while he was looking in the mirror. It had been light out when he had taken his first sip of tea, but now the window showed night had fallen. He had looked up towards the Headmaster to apologize for taking up so much of his time, when he noticed the man's expression. "What's happened?"

The lights were down at Number 4 Privet Drive; it was late, and the entire household, minus a very gloomy Harry Potter, was fast asleep. Sitting in darkness, Harry was perched on the edge of his old wooden desk, peering out the window to the street below. He was very much lost in thought though he had been trying to do away with thought all together minutes before and failed. Many sleep to escape, but not him, not any more. Whether asleep or awake his problems plagued him, and he preferred to be conscious and in control of those thoughts than to surrender to the uncontrollability of nightmares.

A month, that is all it had been since he had left Hogwarts, but nevertheless he missed it deeply. Though a school, it was really the only place he had ever truly felt at home; yet with each coming summer, he had to leave his home for another. One he was bound to by blood- to his relatives, who being the muggles they were, feared him, even when he was a little boy, for being a wizard. Ironically, it was a bond of magic, created by the shed blood of his mother, which kept him in their home - which kept him safe, for no place was safer for him than where he was. All because of the love and sacrifice of his mother Lily, almost fifteen years ago.

They were his protection just as they were his torment, expecting him to pay heavily for the 'service' they provided him. At least they were treating him better this summer after Moody and Mr. Weasley's threat, but still there was no family feeling in the fulfillment of their duty. Lucky, he had long since expected or hoped for any.

His hope at family died a month ago along with his godfather Sirius Black. Reliving Sirius' death each night was what kept Harry from sleep that very moment. As his anger faded, things didn't get better - they got worse. The depression came; a heavy all consuming heartache, which left him moping in self pity. His current mood would top anything from last year, that's for sure. It wasn't the same as it had been with Cedric, who had been just an innocent bystander to Voldemort's plans. Sirius' death was Harry's own fault. He knew that now, no matter what Dumbledore had said. Again and again, he thought of all the times he pushed practicing Occlumency aside. For what? Worries over Cho and chatting about Quidditch? Both seemed insignificant now.

And he could have cursed himself for forgetting Snape's place in the Order. Hate him or not, it had been a moronic move. And oh, how Harry hated the man… or at least wanted to. He had struggled and fought with himself, trying to place the blame for Sirius' death on Snape, but each time he realized it could not be done. In the end, it was himself to blame, and he was lucky it hadn't been worse. It could have been. If Snape hadn't informed Dumbledore of his warning, he or one of his friends could have died at the hands of the Death Eaters. All could have. But it had been Sirius. All for Harry's foolish mistake.

If only he had-- What is that? His thought went unfinished as he scurried off his desk and leaned out the window to get a better view. Out of the corner of his eye, he'd swear he saw a shadowy figure, somewhere among the neighbor's trees, but after craning his neck out further still, he saw nothing but stillness below. It must have been his imagination. Learning the prophecy had had it's side effects on Harry, there was no doubt, but he reasoned he was safer here than anywhere, and he was too young and too well protected to become like Mad Eyed Moody just yet. He did see Hedwig though, not too far in the distance, returning from her nightly meal. Harry moved out of the way, allowing his old friend to enter the room. After she did, Harry looked around one last time, just to be sure. Nothing. He closed the shades so the morning sunlight didn't wake him from any sleep he might manage to get. Harry sank into his chair and absently petted the bird, which affectionately nipped his finger.

In the last three weeks, he had seen little of anyone, besides his owl. He had hidden away in his room avoiding the Dursley's as much as possible. Being in their presence was the last thing he needed and, heeding the warning they had been given, they stayed away. His Aunt Petunia slipped food through his door, grumbling about them not thinking he was being starved, though she hadn't seemed to mind years before when he did not come down for meals. These days, that had been often. She had even once told him to make sure he had written "his friends." Clearly, she did not want wizards anywhere near her home, if she could avoid it, to check up on him. At the moment, neither did he, so he complied, telling them each time all was well as could be expected.

Harry opened the cage, allowing Hedwig back in till tomorrow evening when she could be free again. With a sigh, Harry leaned his head into his arms on the desk and tried to empty his mind of thought. He had to be safe, just incase. He'd fallen asleep there three days ago and wouldn't be shocked if he did again, but the opportunity never came. Harry's head jerked up at the sound. Someone was at his door! He heard it, one by one the locks clicking open and falling to the floor. Harry leaped up, causing his chair to tip back with a thud, as he rushed to his trunk to retrieve his wand. He had not even gotten the chance to lift the latch when the door burst open. His heart pounded and Hedwig screeching filled his ears as a breeze, merely strong enough to ruffle his hair, came through the room. In the darkness, he saw a dull green light, which revealed just enough to show him the woman standing in the hall, her wand directed at him. As the woman began chanting some spell, the green light, which seemed to be radiating from her chest came towards him as though a mist. Harry threw the trunk open. It was coming increasingly closer. Harry grabbed his wand and backed away, not knowing what the green mist might do. He heard his Uncle Vernon screaming in the hall, as it came closer yet still.

Harry franticly began reciting his own defensive spell, placing a protective shield around himself, hoping it would stop what ever was happening. It did not. He was about to begin his own counterattack, when the light surrounded him, causing an odd sensation to fill his body. All he heard were the words she spoke, words he did not understand. They became increasingly louder and louder, almost echoing within his ears. He felt his hand shake violently and unwillingly the wand fell from his gasp. Harry looked up pleadingly, through bright streaks of light, towards them in the hall. He saw his uncle, who still seemed to be shouting though the sound didn't reach Harry's ears at all. The witch completely ignored what ever protest the man may have been giving. Her blue eyes were intently focused on Harry yet.

With a painful jerk, Harry crumpled to the hard wood floor, but he would not give up. Pushing himself up with one arm, he tried to grab his wand with the other. It was such a short distance away, but before his fingers reached the tip, an agonizing spasm filled him yet again. His mind screamed, this was not the first time this had happened. He knew this. From where he did not know but he knew it neither the less. Looking up through his watering eyes scrunched in pain, he saw his uncle throw the woman against the wall. As he did so, the sensation left Harry. The spell had broken and the green light, that had grown so bright it would sting one's eyes to stare into it, had faded away.

End of Chapter 1

Facts and Tidbits:

Me being me, I like to put meaning behind many things in my writing. I doubt most people notice and do it for my own satisfaction, but I decided for this fic to give the meaning behind some of the symbolism I'm using. I got the info from web pages mostly, since I'm anything but an expert of these subjects. If you disagree, you can say so in a review, but please don't flame.

Mirror of Aislinn:

Aislinn is Celtic for dream, vision, or inspiration.

From the website: www. younique.us /Celtic /CelticIndex.htm http:www.younique.us/Celtic/CelticIndex.htm

-Mirrors in Celtic are a symbol of "magical insight, used as a tool for scrying"

-"Birds play a prominent role in Celtic myth and legend. Birds were Spirits of Prophesy."

Using Sapphires had a purpose too, besides looks. Different sites give different meanings, but the basic one I'm using is: "A stone of prosperity. Dispels unwanted thoughts. Bring peace of mind. Allows one to obtain dreams. Sapphire crystals are superior to gems for healing and allow one to ease to the metaphysical realms. Allows one to access ancient. Used for defensive magic."


"Ancient people believed that the power of wisdom is contained within this precious gemstone. They believed that when the wearer of a sapphire faces challenging obstacles, the stone's power enables them to find the correct solution. Aids in the release of unwelcome thoughts, brings joy and peace of mind by opening the mind to beauty and intuition. Sustains the gifts of life and aids in the fulfillment of the dreams of your consciousness"

I am unsure if the Celts used them, I looked, but able to find any information on that. If they didn't? shrug Sorry.

Feedback: This is my first Harry Potter fic. Feedback would be very much appreciated.