Bring a fairy tale to Hogwarts!

Chapter 89 The Magic Mirror of Erised

Five minutes later, following the rightmost steps, Victor arrived at the area around the dark school library.

The library's magic candles are extinguished every night, according to Mrs. Pince, to protect certain special magical books. This is because the forbidden section contains a lot of information on unorthodox and unorthodox practices, making it a key area for daily patrols.

However, Victor did not see Filch here.

He frowned and took the dice out of his palm again to look at them.

That's impossible!

Dice divination is generally not very accurate, but if the right magic is channeled into it, it can still serve as a predictive method. In fairy tales, it's common to use dice to find the right path.

This time, he also divined the "right path".

I just don't know why I couldn't find Filch.

Victor pondered for a moment, then stood in the dimly lit corridor outside the library and tossed the dice again. The white, jade-like die spun a few times in the air before finally landing back in Victor's hand.

This time it's 4 o'clock.

Adding it to the previous 3 makes 7.

Has the number 7 appeared a bit too frequently lately?

Victor thoughtfully put the dice back in his pocket and continued walking deeper into the dark corridor. One door, two doors...

Three doors... He finally pushed open the fourth door he saw. This door was in a very narrow corridor, only wide enough for one person to pass through at a time, and normally no one would come here. A small crack appeared before Victor pushed it open, as if someone had come in before.

But when Victor opened the door, he didn't see Filch.

The walls were empty on all four sides, except for a golden mirror that remained in place.

It was a very imposing mirror, reaching all the way to the ceiling, with a magnificent gold frame, supported by two claw-shaped bases. When Victor looked at it, he immediately saw the inscription at the top: "Erised straeh rouy tub ecaf ruoy ton wohs i."

Ishownotyourfacebutyourheart's desire.

"What I show you is not your face, but the desires within your heart."

Victor read the line aloud softly, his dark eyes fixed on the frame of his glasses for a moment.

A few seconds later, he suddenly said, "—Do you really need to use such a simple puzzle?"

"I thought you knew that we've done countless similar problems before, mirror."

The room remained silent.

Clearly, he thought it was the mirror in his house. Ever since that magic mirror left the Queen's place, it liked to wander into various mirrors, doing who-knows-what.

But after a dozen seconds, there was still no sound in the room.

Victor then took two steps toward the mirror—but as he got closer, he did not see the familiar, blurry black figure.

Instead, a strange scene unfolded.

Victor first saw himself—only with his back to the mirror, wearing a strange cloak inlaid with rubies.

His clothes might seem a bit strange to Muggles, but compared to the dozen or so people around him, he looked the most normal.

To his left stood a witch with entirely purple skin. Her hair writhed in the air like sea serpents, and she laughed maniacally at the mirror with her bloated face. Beneath her black dress, countless twisted, slimy octopus tentacles writhed and coiled.

To Victor's right stood a middle-aged man with a beard and a gloomy expression, wearing a turban similar to Quirrell's. However, this man's clothes appeared more expensive, and he wore thick gold jewelry on his hands and neck.

Besides them, you can also see a little girl wearing a red hood, a strange priest huddled in a corner, an old woman with a pointed nose, and several grinning goblins—

Everyone looked like they could enter Azkaban immediately.

Victor stood there, silently looking at himself in the mirror for a while. He seemed to have completely abandoned the idea that it was the magic mirror playing tricks—that wasn't the magic mirror's forte.

A few seconds later, he muttered to himself:

"So this is what I truly desire? Looks like I still need to find more clients—oh no, friends."

Victor gently reached out and pressed his pale hand against the mirror. The mirror's effect was so realistic that it seemed as if everyone in it was actually standing beside him, yet the room was empty.

—...This is what he used to be like.

But just then, a series of hurried footsteps suddenly came from outside the corridor, accompanied by a few faint meows.

A moment later, Filch, carrying a lantern, sauntered into the narrow doorway. He visibly relaxed when he saw Victor in his cloudy black eyes.

"Professor, you're here."

"I thought those students had played some trick on you. The school's management is too lax; they actually allow them to carry around wands all the time."

He muttered to himself, carrying his lantern that smelled of grilled fish, and slowly approached Victor. But the lantern illuminated not only Victor, but also the tall mirror standing in the center of the small room.

The moment he saw the mirror, Filch's lantern fell to the ground with a clatter.

Mrs. Lorris's dull cat fur on her back almost stood on end, and it let out a hoarse meow. Startled by the lantern, it jumped behind the door and frantically scratched at it with its paws.

But Filch, who was usually extremely wary of the old cat, didn't spare Mrs. Lorris any glance at this moment.

He simply stared intently at the mirror with his dark eyes, as if bewitched, remaining motionless as he looked at the flat surface.

He whispered as if in a dream:

"What—what is this—"

"Could it be the future—."

"What did you see?" Victor asked, having somehow given up his spot and standing to the side.

"...I...I saw myself...I'm holding a wand...and my wizarding credentials from the Ministry of Magic, they still issued them to me—" Filch stared at the mirror, unable to blink. "Can you see me, Professor? Me too—"

"Unfortunately, I can't see anything."

Victor said calmly from the side.

"Judging from the inscription, this doesn't depict a scene from reality, but rather what we want to see. You see the 'future,' Mr. Filch, but I see the past."

Filch's expression froze instantly. His hand, which was about to touch the mirror, also paused, hanging in mid-air, neither moving nor falling.