I Enjoy Everything I Possess

"What? This mirror is clearly a treasure, yet it's been left abandoned in this unused classroom. You've come here three days straight and never met its owner—that means it's fate between us and this thing."

"But—but—it's so big, how do we take it? It can't even fit through the door."

"If you want to, that's not a problem. I can use an Undetectable Extension Charm to put it in a bag, or we could shrink it with a Shrinking Charm. Then I can keep it in the dormitory, so you can see your parents every morning when you wake up. See, sneaking out here every night is pretty dangerous, isn't it?"

Harry seemed to see the scene Damon described, and his expression grew vivid.

After hesitating for a moment, he finally couldn't resist the temptation and agreed.

But just then, an aged, hoarse voice rang out abruptly behind them:

"I'm afraid that won't work, children."

Harry felt as if his insides had frozen into ice in an instant.

Turning around, he saw Albus Dumbledore sitting on a table by the wall—he and Damon had never noticed him sitting there the whole time?

Was it because they'd focused all their attention on the mirror?

Harry instinctively looked at Damon, only to find his expression perfectly calm, without a trace of panic, and he unconsciously felt reassured.

"Professor, eavesdropping on people's conversations isn't a very good habit."

Seeing Damon strike first, Harry's thoughts stalled for a moment.

"Damon, that accusation is a bit too sharp—I've been sitting here the entire time, I just didn't speak."

After Dumbledore finished, he noticed Damon looking at him with a half-smile.

He knew his words wouldn't hold up—they might fool Harry, but this child in front of him seemed unexpectedly mature for his age.

Was it because of his upbringing in the orphanage?

Dumbledore instinctively thought of another child also raised in an orphanage, his eyes dimming for a moment, and before the two could speak, he continued:

"It seems you've already discovered the pleasures of the Mirror of Erised, like the thousands before you."

Harry said nothing—with Damon there, he trusted he could leave everything to him.

"Pleasures?" Damon smiled indifferently. "Professor, I only saw myself. What pleasure is there in that?"

Dumbledore glanced at Damon, his face expressionless.

He had never heard of anyone seeing only themselves in the Mirror of Erised.

Was this child lying? But then, how would he know the legend of the Mirror of Erised?

"Legend says the happiest person in the world can use the Mirror of Erised as an ordinary mirror—that is, they see their own reflection in it."

He stared intently at Damon, watching closely for any change.

"Damon, please forgive an old man's growing curiosity—I'm very eager to know, at only eleven years old, have you truly become free of all desires and wants?"

"To be precise, I'm already twelve."

Harry whipped his head toward Damon—his birthday had already passed? When?

They hadn't even celebrated it for him.

"Oh—you don't even care about your own birthday?"

Dumbledore voiced the question in Harry's mind, his gaze behind his glasses growing more scrutinizing.

"Professor, if every single day of your life is incredibly fulfilling, and joy fills your chest from morning to night, would you still care about something like a birthday?"

"I enjoy everything about my life now—I love watching the sunlight stream in through the window every time, shining on the purple curtains, always reminding me of what a wonderful world I live in. I also love the feeling of moonlight falling, watching the curtains sway with the moonbeams. At moments like that, my magic always behaves more calmly than ever. I greedily savor everything I experience—I want for nothing else."

Dumbledore looked at the young boy speaking so eloquently before him, at the serene smile on his face, and something soft seemed to stir in his heart.

He couldn't help but begin to believe—this boy truly had no cravings or desires—or rather, his desire was simply every day of his life.

Dumbledore had never imagined that such a person could actually exist in the world?

He had observed this child carefully; his life was as monotonous as the most devout Christian in the Muggle world—aside from classes, he spent almost all his time practicing Charms.

Could that really be enjoyable? Or was it—

Dumbledore's expression turned serious. As his mindset shifted, his originally kind face instantly changed, taking on an air of authority that made Harry's heart pound—just looking at Dumbledore like this made him feel a little afraid.

"Everything you experience? But from what I know, you spend all day practicing Charms and Transfiguration, Damon. What you seek—is it power?"

Dumbledore looked at Damon meaningfully, and Damon's face now showed an amused expression.

'If you sought power, how could you see yourself in the mirror?'

'Not pretending anymore, huh? And you've been spying on me practicing Charms?'

After their eyes met, Damon admitted openly:

"That's right, I seek power."

"Then you still—" Dumbledore's brow furrowed.

"I pursue power to protect myself from harm," Damon said, meeting Dumbledore's gaze calmly. "I don't want a professor secretly casting spells on my wand during a Quidditch match while everyone else stays silent."

"I don't want to have to beg others for protection when I'm in danger."

"I don't want countless obstacles ahead of me, all of them just tests set by others."

Hearing these pointed accusations, and recalling how Damon had blasted Quirrell's wand apart with a Charm that day, Dumbledore fell silent.

After a pause, he finally spoke:

"Let's change the subject."

He was retreating.

There were many things he couldn't explain outright to the two children before him.

"You cannot take this mirror with you."

Seeing that Damon wasn't impatient, only raising an eyebrow at him—motioning for him to continue—Dumbledore's estimation of him rose further. He went on:

"This mirror neither teaches us knowledge nor tells us the truth.

People waste their days before it, obsessed with what they see, even driven mad, because they don't know if what's in the mirror is real or attainable."

"Indulging in illusory dreams while forgetting real life is utterly pointless."

Hearing this, Harry felt a deep disappointment, yet a voice inside told him Dumbledore was right—he should give up the mirror.

But.

Just thinking that he would never see his parents through the mirror again made his heart ache violently.

If he had never seen them before, maybe it wouldn't hurt this much.

He couldn't help thinking.

Just then, he heard Damon's voice.

"Professor, I can't agree with your view."