The world was blurred and shaking because Harry was shaking, shaking as he cried, though he could hear perfectly well.

“Get out!” James yelled. “Go on, Severus, leave! I don’t know what this is about— some kind of joke in bad taste— but you’ve gone too far. Gods forfend, I thought you were better than this!”

Lily wasn’t sitting beside Harry anymore— she’d moved to kneel down in front of him, clasping his hands. “Harry, Harry my love, what’s wrong?”

“Snape’s right,” Harry bawled. “He’s right, you’re dead , I’m sorry, I’m sorry —”

“ What ,” Lily hissed, voice cold. “Severus. Explain, right now.” She raised Harry to his feet then shuffled them around so she could sit down on the couch with him on her lap. Harry curled into her, clutching her shirt, head pounding. She was warm, and real, and everything was wonderful and awful.

“It was Halloween, 1981,” Snape said softly. “The Dark Lord.”

Harry felt his mother stiffen at the word. “Sev—”

“I’ve never made you a Christmas decoration,” Harry managed to whisper into her neck, in between huge sniffs. “I haven’t. And I didn’t— didn’t know you hated marshmallows. Cause I don’t remember you.” He felt her hand tighten on his back, and his tears started up again. “They told me it was a car crash, and I didn’t know til I got to Hogwarts.”

“Shh, Harry,” his mum whispered. “Shh, it’s alright. I’m here.”

She was, wasn’t she? She was dead, but she was here and alive as well. Harry swallowed the last of his tears and twisted a bit, so that he could see Snape and his father. 

“Sit down, please, Mister Pot— James,” Snape said quietly. As James slowly eased himself down the potions professor met their eyes, then began. “In 1981 the Dark Lord murdered you both and met his demise. Harry survived, and went to live with Petunia. In his first year at Hogwarts he encountered the Mirror of Erised, and began wandering the castle at all hours of the night to look into it and see his long-lost parents.” The man picked up his mug and took a sip of tea, then continued. “His friend Ronald Weasley warned him against it; Professor Dumbledore counselled caution and informed him that people have wasted away gazing into it. But Potter kept going, and the Mirror kept sinking its hooks into him, until what was dream and what was reality blurred for him, and the Mirror caught him. He’s gazing into it now, trapped inside a world built from his own head, slowly wasting away.”

And with that Snape leaned back and drank some more tea.

“Severus— that’s quite a story,” Lily said, her voice betraying her shock. “Um.”

“That was after Christmas,” Harry said, hoarsely. “It’s before Christmas now.”

It was, wasn’t it? How could all this be his imagination? They were real— he’d hugged them and cooked dinner with them; they’d talked about people and things he didn’t know.

“Professor,” he said, wiping his nose with the back of his hand, “I don’t get it. They are real. It can’t be true— it can’t, because how would I know to think up all the details? I don’t— don’t remember anything.”

“The Mirror of Erised is a very powerful artefact,” Snape said. “It can find events and people in your mind that you cannot remember consciously— events from the first year of your life, and then extrapolate from them. But we foresaw this. I have a letter for you, Mister Potter.”

He reached into his robe and pulled out a scroll of parchment, then handed it to Harry. 

Dear Harry, it read.

“It’s from Ron,” Harry said, glancing up at his mum. “It’s from Ron.” The scrawl was unmistakable.

“I have a note for you two from Dumbledore as well,” he heard Snape say. But he didn’t care about that— he was reading his letter.

Dear Harry,

I don’t know how to write this. It’s strange, writing to you like I can’t just talk to you. I mean, I could talk to you, but you wouldn’t reply. You can’t. 

It’s so stupid, because you’re right there. A bit faded round the edges, and you look really ill, kind of hollow if that makes sense, but your there.

Dumbledore asked me to write this letter. He told me that you would get it, though I don’t know. He wanted Hermione to do one too, but she only came back an hour ago and has been too upset. McGonagall fetched her after we realised what had happened. 

When I woke up yesterday, you weren’t in the dorm. I thought you’d gone to breakfast early, but you weren’t there. I looked for you in lots of places til I realised about the mirror, I should have remembered I don’t know why I didn’t. But then I went to the mirror and you were there, but you weren’t moving and all pale. I said Harry and you didn’t move, then I touched you and you were very cold and my hand felt like it almost went through you. You didn’t move even then. I waited a minute and tried again then went to get McGonagall.

Harry I don’t know what to say but I hope you come back. Dumbledore said you were in the mirror now, in the mirror’s world and it would make you very happy in there but its not real Harry. I think your going to die  You look very sick and I’m scared because you can’t eat anything and you’re actually going all fuzzy its like the mirror is eating you.

Ron.

PS this is me I know the mirror gives you what you want so you might not believe it but it is. So I’ll put in this bit: Malfoy Midnight Neville Hermione Peeves Dog. You should remember. I was going to put what I saw in the mirror but don’t want anyone reading it, though it had to do with badges.

Harry rolled the parchment back up and clutched it to his chest. “Alright,” he said hoarsely. He had known something strange was going on, but it had just been so wonderful… He didn’t want to believe Ron’s letter, but Ron would never lie to him. “But how’re you here?”

Lily and James looked up from the letter they were perusing at that. 

“Yes, Severus, how are you here?” James asked. 

“Legilimency,” Snape said.

Lily’s mouth fell open. “Oh,” she said. “Really— I should have known.”

“What’s legi-legilo-le—”

“It is a complex and mysterious art generally initiated through eye contact, allowing me to penetrate through the layers—”

“He’s reading your mind, Harry,” Lily said. “Pretty much, anyway.”

On his face, Snape’s lip was curling in a way that revealed his annoyance at being cut off. But he didn’t say anything.

If Snape was reading his mind, right now, then did he know what Harry was thinking?

“No,” Snape said briskly. “No, Potter, I don’t.”

Harry stared at him. This was unconvincing in the extreme. “But you just did!” he said loudly. “You— you just did!”

James and Lily were looking curiously at the both of them, now, as Snape let out an exasperated sigh. “Everyone always wonders if I’m doing it when they learn about it, Potter. But rest assured, I have no desire to trawl through the mundanities of your thought process. It is not a skill I ordinarily use.”

Eying him suspiciously, Harry wasn’t convinced the man was telling the truth. Then, remembering that he’d said it was done by eye contact, he averted his gaze.

A chime sounded through the cottage, emanating from Snape’s right wrist. The man pulled up his sleeve and grimaced slightly at the device strapped to him. It was a bit like a watch, if a watch had several hands and three faces. 

“I have to leave in a minute or two,” Snape said, looking from Lily to James. “Extended legilimency is not… beneficial, to either me or the legilimised. Albus and I have allowed for two visits, five hours apart. That left us with a little extra time, just in case…”

Harry’s mum and dad looked at each other, communicating silently, then James said, “Come over here a minute, Harry.”

Glancing up at his mum, who nodded, Harry walked over to his dad. James guided him over to the corner of the room. 

“Harry,” he said seriously, “I need you to tell me if this is true, about that mirror.”

Harry nodded, miserably. 

“This is important, Harry,” James said, running a hand through his hair. “You must say it out loud.”

“Yes,” he said reluctantly. “It’s true. It was Christmas last week, at school, and— and— I was going each night to look at it. To look at you. And the letter’s definitely from Ron.”

Saying it out loud somehow made it more real to him, and it was clear that the confirmation affected his dad as well.

“Oh, Harry,” James said, holding out his arms. Harry fell into them, unable to say anything, his throat choked up. No more tears fell, but that was only because he had none left to shed after earlier. 

They stayed like that for a bit, then Harry’s dad steered them back over to Snape and Lily. His mum was looking grave but determined, and Snape had a pensive look on his face. It was clear that the conversation between them while Harry had been over with his dad had given them both much to think on.

“Lily, James,” Snape said, inclining his head to both of them. After a second’s hesitation, “Harry. Until my return.”

“Severus,” Lily said. James nodded, and Harry made himself look over at the man. Then after another second, the man disappeared. There was no crack, like when Harry had been apparated— the man was simply there one moment and gone the next.

“Well,” Lily said, eyes on the place Snape had been, “If I had any more doubts of his using legilimency right now, that would have stopped them.”

After Snape had left, Harry’s parents took him upstairs to his room.

“Your father and I need to talk about this,” Lily told him as Harry sat on his bed. “Try to go to sleep for a bit, darling.”

Harry stared at her. Go to sleep! After all that had happened, and with Snape coming back in a few hours, and while they were going to be talking about him! He wouldn’t be able to— and anyway, he didn’t want to. If they were going to be talking about him and the Mirror, surely he should be there.

“But I—” he began.

“He won’t be able to, Lily,” James said. “Let me just go get something to help you, Harry.” He walked out of the room. 

The bed creaked as Lily sat down on it, next to Harry. “It’s been a long day,” she said.

It was only around half-past seven. Harry said so.

“Well, it doesn’t feel like it,” his mother said. “Now, I know you probably want to hear what we’ll be talking about, but this conversation is going to be an adult one. I promise we’ll tell you anything you need to know, Harry.”

“I— alright,” Harry said, resigning himself. It really wasn’t fair, but adults never really were, and he shouldn’t have expected his parents to be the exception. 

When James re-entered the room, he was holding a tiny crystal vial. It was filled with a deep green substance.

“This’ll do the trick,” he said, handing it to Harry. “Had it leftover from my last overtime case.”

Harry tilted it and watched the light glimmer off the facets of the crystal. “What is it?”

“Compressed sleeping potion,” James said. “Gives you five hours of sleep for every hour you manage to snatch. You’re not meant to take it very often, of course, because it’s highly addictive, but I’ll just give you enough for half-an-hour. It’s not like you’ve ever taken any before, have you?” he asked.

“No,” Harry said. 

“Well, it’s not like you’ll be able to get your hands on it easily, it’s prescription only, but make sure not to take any more of it in the next half a year or so.”

Harry’s parents tucked him in and kissed him, then James handed him the vial. “One sip,” he advised.

The potion had barely touched his lips before the waking world drifted away, cloud-like.