"Professor, the mirror is... broken?"
Harry stared blankly at the floor covered in shards, and at Tom, who was sprawled in the middle of the glass pile. He opened and closed his mouth several times before finally managing to squeeze out a sentence.
He hadn't even gotten the chance to properly talk to his parents in the mirror, and now they were gone, shattering along with the glass...
Dumbledore looked at the pile of debris in silence. He slowly took off his half-moon spectacles, wiped them, and put them back on. But no matter how he looked at it, the ancient Mirror of Erised was completely destroyed. Only shards remained.
[So... can we just call this even? I really didn't do it on purpose—]
Tom picked himself up off the floor, shook his dizzy head, and looked down at the broken glass, scratching his head awkwardly.
Before he left the mirror, he had specifically checked to make sure his exit wouldn't damage it! Who could tell him how this thing actually broke?!
It had to be that stupid rat! Setting me up right before he left! Just wait until I get my paws on you next time! Tom thought viciously. But facing the two silent figures—one tall, one small—he immediately plastered on a flattering, apologetic smile.
Settling the score with Jerry was a problem for another day. Right now? The most important thing was surviving this crisis.
Watching the scene unfold, Dumbledore let out a soft sigh. The Mirror of Erised was supposed to play a crucial role in his upcoming plans. But alas, no plan survives contact with reality.
Well, without the Mirror of Erised, I'll just have to adjust the subsequent arrangements. Dumbledore fell into deep thought.
Tom, of course, had no idea what the old man was thinking. From his perspective, Dumbledore was just staring at him in dead silence. The headmaster looked calm—so calm it was terrifying.
[So, uh... how about I try to fix it?] Tom offered tentatively.
"Oh, there's no need, Mr. Lovegood," Dumbledore shook his head. "This mirror has been at Hogwarts for over a century, and even Nicolas—I mean, even the greatest contemporary alchemist could only use Legilimency to create an imitation that is similar, yet fundamentally different. I believe in your creativity, but without formal training in Alchemy and Legilimency, I'm afraid you won't be able to replicate it."
Over a century? And that's just the time it spent at Hogwarts?! And the old guy just said that Nicolas Flamel could only make a knock-off?!
Hearing this, Tom's heart skipped a beat, and a cold sweat instantly broke out all over him. He shot a stealthy glance at Dumbledore, trying to tiptoe away, only for his eyes to lock with Harry's.
The next second, acting purely on survival instinct, Tom dove into the pile of broken glass. His paws moved as a blur, sweeping the shards together into a chaotic ball.
Under Harry and Dumbledore's bewildered gazes, Tom worked furiously. The pile of glass on the floor grew smaller and smaller, until finally, every last shard was gone. Tom wiped the cold sweat from his brow, his rapid movements finally slowing down.
In the mirror's original place stood... a disaster. It was a mirror held together entirely by tape and sheer willpower. Strips of duct tape crisscrossed the glass haphazardly, with some areas patched over by multiple layers.
Tom wiped his brow again, feeling genuine dread.
[Scared me to death. I thought I wasn't going to be able to fix it!]
An antique that was centuries old! If he couldn't fix it, he'd probably end up like Professor Binns, working off his debt to Hogwarts until he died! Wait, no—he'd probably have to keep working off the debt even after he died!
Dumbledore stared at the mirror Tom had "repaired," the corner of his mouth twitching uncontrollably.
Slapping a broken mirror together with duct tape counted as "fixed"? And...
"It seems to be missing a piece?" Dumbledore pointed at a noticeably large hole in the glass.
Following the finger, Tom noticed the gap too. He tilted his head in confusion. He was sure he had gathered all the pieces!
But seeing Dumbledore's expression, Tom smartly decided not to overthink it. He reached behind his back, pulled out a random piece of ordinary glass, gave it a few quick shape-adjusting smacks with his paw, and jammed it into the hole.
[There. Good as new.] Tom nodded with satisfaction.
Watching Tom's "repair process" firsthand only made Dumbledore fall into a deeper silence. Was this really something you could just patch with a random piece of window glass?
"Wait, Professor! The mirror really works!" Harry suddenly cried out in sheer delight. "I can see them again! But... compared to before, it feels like they're missing something?"
Harry frowned in confusion. Even though they looked exactly the same, he couldn't shake the feeling that something crucial was gone from the people in the glass.
"?!"
Hearing this, Dumbledore was utterly floored. This taped-together, janky mess of a mirror actually worked?
He leaned in closer, unsure of what to expect. And sure enough—despite the fact that the surface was practically more tape than glass—if you ignored the patches and cracks, the magical illusion was still visible behind it.
If you ignored the tape, the mirror really was functioning just like it had before.
Oh, wait. There is a difference, Dumbledore realized. His gaze settled on the random piece of glass Tom had just shoved into the hole.
For some inexplicable reason, this ordinary piece of glass was displaying the illusion just like the magical mirror pieces around it. However, the image passing through Tom's patch was entirely different—it was significantly clearer!
If the rest of the mirror was displaying a foggy, 480p image, Tom's little glass patch was broadcasting in crisp, 1080p HD!
If Dumbledore hadn't been completely baffled as to how Tom achieved this, he would have asked the cat to replace the entire mirror surface with whatever that glass was.
As for what Harry felt was "missing"? That was simply the lifelike, animated spark that Tom and Jerry had brought into the mirror when they entered. That level of interactivity was something the Mirror of Erised had never possessed in the first place.
Dumbledore explained gently, "That sense of reality you felt earlier cannot be created by the Mirror of Erised. It only shows your heart's deepest desire. But a fake is still a fake; you cannot truly know your family through this glass."
"But, what about that mouse from earlier?" Harry pointed at Tom, hesitating. The second mouse had clearly taken the mirror-illusion mouse out with it. Was that a fake too?
"That..." Dumbledore's expression froze. When it came to things involving Tom, the headmaster had long since accepted that he would never understand the mechanics.
[That actually wasn't fake.] Tom spread his paws. [It got taken by that smelly rat. Those two are special cases.]
Tom paused, noticing the deep disappointment settling on Harry's face. He gave a soft smile.
[However, if you have something you want to say to them—]
Tom reached into his "pockets" and pulled out two glowing orbs of light. The orbs slowly expanded and formed into two semi-transparent figures—the exact images of James and Lily.
[I brought them out with me. Even if they aren't your real parents, the love and hope they hold for you are absolutely real.]
Harry stared blankly at the two smiling, ethereal figures, his eyes instantly welling with tears. "Dad... Mum!"
[What are you looking at, old man?! Give them some privacy!] Without waiting for Dumbledore to react, Tom grabbed the headmaster's robes and aggressively dragged the old wizard out of the dusty classroom. The door clicked shut softly behind them, leaving Harry alone in the room with the two gentle figures made of light, who were looking down at him with nothing but love.