On Christmas morning at Hogwarts, Harry and Ron were up bright and early. As first-years, they couldn't leave the castle to visit Hogsmeade, but they didn't mind. With the rest of the dormitory empty, the common room felt wonderfully spacious, and they claimed the comfiest seats right by the fireplace.
Best of all, both of them had received a mountain of presents — this was the first time Harry had ever gotten so many gifts on Christmas.
He reached for the top package first. It was wrapped in thick brown paper with "From Hagrid to Harry" scrawled across it in messy handwriting. Inside was a handmade wooden flute. Harry gave it a try, and it let out a sound somewhere between a hoot and a whistle.
The next small parcel had a note attached: "We got your letter. Here's your Christmas gift. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia." Taped to the back was a fifty-pence coin.
"That's actually kinda nice," Harry sighed in relief. He'd been half-worried they'd send something sarcastic and ruin his mood.
Ron's eyes lit up at the strange coin. "Weird shape! Is this what Muggles use for money?"
"You can keep it," Harry said with a laugh, handing it over.
They kept unwrapping. There was a hand-knitted sweater from Mrs. Weasley, a box of horseshoe-shaped chocolates from Hermione, and — most exciting of all — a mysterious Invisibility Cloak that had once belonged to his father. Harry was over the moon.
The last gift was a palm-sized package labeled: "Hope this helps you make more friends. — Sullivan."
"It's from Professor Sullivan!" Ron exclaimed, spotting an identical box beside his own. "No way — is it that thing?"
"What thing?" Harry asked, curious.
"The Magic Phone, obviously! Remember the live map he showed us during the troll incident?"
"George and Fred have them now. You haven't seen them showing off in the common room? Ever since they got those phones, they've been acting like kings of Gryffindor," Ron said, half jealous, half excited.
"A Magic Phone? No way — I heard those cost fifty Galleons each!" Harry was shocked.
"Just open it!" Ron urged.
The moment they tore open the boxes and saw the sleek devices inside, both boys jumped up in delight. They followed the instructions, set up their avatars, and added each other as friends.
The only disappointment was that these phones didn't have the live map Sullivan had shown them before. But that made sense — why would he give something that powerful to students?
In Sullivan's office, he had his own pile of gifts waiting: Felix Felicis from Snape, magical candies from Dumbledore, a wizarding robe from Tonks, boots from Chen Ying, and even a box of catnip from Filch.
The shop was closed for the day. Yesterday's final sales had hit 347 units — meaning the Flying Feather Magic Phone had crushed nearly ninety percent of the monthly goal in a single day. At this rate, Sullivan wouldn't have to worry about sales ever again.
He stretched lazily, enjoying the rare downtime. After sending thank-you messages to everyone on his phone, he scooped up Coal Ball and wandered the castle grounds, watching how students were using their new devices.
Plenty of young wizards had bought phones the day before, and now groups of them could be seen huddled together all over the grounds — one demonstrating features to friends, or a boy nervously asking a girl to add him on FlyMessage.
Sullivan watched with a satisfied grin. This was the best kind of free marketing.
As he strolled, he noticed an empty room ahead with a huge mirror inside. It looked familiar. After a moment, he realized it must be the Mirror of Erised.
Curiosity got the better of him. He stepped inside.
The mirror was magnificent — tall as the ceiling, with an ornate gold frame and clawed feet. At the top was the familiar inscription: Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi.
Sullivan stood directly in front of it and wondered what his deepest desire would look like.
What appeared was… interesting.
He saw himself sitting in the Minister of Magic's grand office, lounging in the oversized chair. To his left was Chen Ying dressed in a revealing bunny outfit. To his right was Tonks in a seductive vampire maid costume. Standing in front of the desk was Gemma Farley in a sharp business suit, holding a report like she was briefing him.
Sullivan burst out laughing. Me as Minister? No thanks. But looking closer, he realized Gemma was the one actually sitting in the Minister's chair in the reflection. He was the power behind the throne.
Well, that tracks, he thought, still chuckling. Pulling strings from the shadows is more my style.
Curious about the Philosopher's Stone, he focused on the idea. The next second, the Stone appeared on the desk in the mirror.
Sullivan kept repeating in his mind: I don't want to possess it. I don't want to possess it.
But when he reached out, his reflection grabbed the Stone while his real hand came up empty.
He tried several more times. No luck.
Either Dumbledore hadn't hidden the Stone in the mirror yet, or his self-hypnosis wasn't strong enough. Sullivan suspected it was the latter.
"Professor Sullivan, what did you see?"
An old man's voice came from behind him — unmistakably Dumbledore.
"Professor, how do you always sneak up on people like that?" Sullivan grumbled.
Dumbledore ignored the complaint and asked again with gentle curiosity, "So… what did you see?"
"Heh, I saw Tonks," Sullivan said vaguely. "But I can't really go into details."
With Coal Ball present, Dumbledore couldn't use Legilimency, but from long experience he could tell Sullivan was telling the truth — just not the whole truth.
"Sullivan, you've probably guessed that I hid something important in that corridor on the fourth floor, haven't you?" Dumbledore asked sincerely.
Sullivan nodded. "The Philosopher's Stone, right? Harry mentioned Hagrid took him to Gringotts at the start of term. Then the bank was robbed the same day. Later he asked me who Nicolas Flamel was. The kid's just like his dad — can't keep a secret and is stubborn as a mule."
Dumbledore wasn't surprised Sullivan knew. He had deliberately leaked several clues himself.
"Since you know it's the Philosopher's Stone, any idea who wants it?" Dumbledore asked.
"Elixir of Life — who wouldn't want it? That's a very long list," Sullivan played dumb.
Dumbledore chose his next words carefully. "Sullivan, do you believe Voldemort is truly dead?"
"Everyone says he is, and the Death Eaters have gone quiet, so… probably," Sullivan answered noncommittally.
Dumbledore smiled faintly. "I am almost certain he is not. He is badly weakened, but he wants to return — and the Stone seems like the perfect way to do it."
"So you're using the Stone as bait to lure him to Hogwarts and finish him off?" Sullivan asked.
"I wish I could," Dumbledore said. "But killing Voldemort is something that probably falls to Harry."
"Eleven years ago, Lily cast a powerful protective spell on Harry right before she died. That spell is what destroyed Voldemort that night."
"It's still active inside Harry. If Voldemort were to touch him directly, the protection would strike back with devastating force."
"So you want Harry to be the one who takes him down?" Sullivan frowned. "No offense, but that sounds incredibly risky."
Dumbledore nodded in agreement but added, "Yes, it is dangerous. That's why we need to give Harry every advantage we can. I was hoping you might create a magical item for him — something that could save his life in a critical moment."
Sullivan found the request odd. In the original story, Harry had defeated Quirrell without any extra help. Why ask now?
Then it clicked. Dumbledore didn't have the benefit of hindsight. He was playing a dangerous game and simply trying to stack the deck in Harry's favor.
Sullivan agreed easily. "I can do that, Professor. But you know the basic rule of alchemy, right?"
"Equivalent exchange," Dumbledore said at once. "What would you like in return?"
"As an alchemist, once it's done, I'd like a close-up look at the Philosopher's Stone. Or, if you feel generous, you could always gift it to me," Sullivan said with a grin.
Dumbledore looked momentarily helpless. "I'm afraid it's not mine to give. But I can let you study it in my office for one week."
"Deal!" Sullivan said immediately. That was more than enough.
The next night, Sullivan returned to the room with the mirror. Two people were already there: Harry Potter and Ron Weasley.
After checking the live map on his phone the night before, Sullivan had seen Harry visit the mirror alone. Tonight, Harry had brought Ron along.
Since he had promised Dumbledore he would keep an eye on the boy, Sullivan decided to step in.
"See it?" Harry whispered.
"I don't see anything," Ron replied.
"Look! Look — there's a whole bunch of them—"
"I just see you."
"Look closer. Come stand here." Harry stepped aside.
But once Ron was in front of the mirror, Harry could no longer see his family. Instead, he saw Ron in patterned pajamas, staring at his reflection with his mouth open.
"Look at me!" Ron said excitedly.
"Can you see your family around you?" Harry asked.
"No, just me — but I'm older, and I'm Head Boy!"
"What?" Harry was confused.
"I've got Bill's old badge, and I'm holding the House Cup and the Quidditch Cup — I'm Quidditch captain too!" Ron groped at himself in excitement, then turned to Harry.
"You think this mirror shows the future?" Ron asked hopefully.
Harry shot the idea down immediately. "How could it? My family is dead — let me see again—"
"You had it all to yourself last night. Give me more time."
Harry was getting annoyed. "You're just holding the Quidditch Cup. Big deal. I want to see my parents."
"Don't push me—"
Hearing them bicker, Sullivan chuckled softly. He dropped his Disillusionment Charm and appeared behind them, just as Dumbledore would have done.
"Harry, Ron — what are you two doing here this late?"
Both boys jumped and spun around. Seeing it was Sullivan, they relaxed a little.
"Professor Sullivan, you're not going to take points, right?" Harry asked hopefully.
"Of course not. It's the holidays," Sullivan said. "But you are breaking the rules by being out of bed."
Ron, relieved there would be no point deduction, got excited. "Professor, this mirror shows the future! In it, I'm going to be—"
As Ron rambled on, Harry cut in. "It's not showing the future. I saw my parents… and they're dead. Professor, what is this thing?"
Sullivan explained gently, "It's the Mirror of Erised. It shows what your heart desires most. So what you see is simply what you crave deep down."
Both boys hung their heads — Harry thinking of his parents, Ron disappointed his grand future had vanished.
Just then, a scraggly gray cat slunk into the room, meowing.
"It's Mrs. Norris — Filch is coming! Run!" Harry panicked.
Sullivan laughed. "Easy, easy. I'm here. No need to panic."
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