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170 "I'm serious, Harry, don't go." But Harry only had one thought in his head, which was to get back in front of the mirror, and Ron wasn't going to stop him.
That third night he found his way more quickly than before. He was walking so fast he knew he was making more noise than was wise, but he didn't meet anyone.
And there were his mother and father smiling at him again, and one of his grandfathers nodding happily. Harry sank down to sit on the floor in front of the mirror. There was nothing to stop him from staying here all night with his family. Nothing at all.
Except -- "So -- back again, Harry." Harry felt as though his insides had turned to ice. He looked behind him. Sitting on one of the desks by the wall was none other than Albus Dumbledore. Harry must have walked straight past him, so desperate to get to the mirror he hadn't noticed him.
" -- I didn't see you, sir." "Strange how nearsighted being invisible can make you," said Dumbledore, and Harry was relieved to see that he was smiling.
"So," said Dumbledore, slipping off the desk to sit on the floor with Harry, "you, like hundreds before you, have discovered the delights of the Mirror of Erised." "I didn't know it was called that, Sir." "But I expect you've realized by now what it does." "It -- well -- it shows me my family --" "And it showed your friend Ron himself as head boy." "How did you know --."
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