HP: Wormwood and Lightning Wood

In his sleep, West felt his arm being pulled.

He suddenly opened his eyes and found that there was no one in front of him, and his arm was being pulled in mid-air.

"...Harry?" He picked up his wand, emitted a silent glow, and stretched out his other hand, pulling it in front of him.

He ripped off the invisibility cloak, and Harry's sullen face was illuminated by the light.

He slumped onto the edge of the four-poster bed, muttering, "Merlin's beard, West, you're too perceptive..."

West sat up in exasperation. "In the middle of the night, instead of sleeping, you're wearing an invisibility cloak in the Slytherin common room? Tell me, how did you sneak in?"

Harry grinned smugly. "I snuck in with a Slytherin student who was out at night."

An anxious look appeared on his face, his eyes filled with a wistful longing. "Let's not talk about that now, come with me!"

At Harry's urging, West put on the invisibility cloak along with Harry.

Harry led him through the empty castle at night to the library, then through a series of turns and into a large, abandoned classroom.

On the wall directly opposite them stood an exquisite mirror with a gold frame, engraved with intricate and ornate patterns, and a line of incantation carved at the top.

West squinted to decipher the words, "Eris..."

Erised, desire. (Longing?)

"Wester, did you see that?" Harry whispered.

West shifted his gaze to the mirror. "What do you see, Harry?"

"Can't you see Mom and Dad? They're waving at us!" Harry asked anxiously, his voice trembling.

West looked in the mirror; he was the only one there.

He turned to look at Harry and found that Harry's gaze was completely fixed on the mirror.

West turned his head again, and the reflection in the mirror rippled—

Behind him and Harry stood a smiling couple.

The woman had long, beautiful red hair, a gentle smile on her lips, and her emerald-colored eyes, just like theirs, were brimming with tears.

Beside him stood a tall, thin man, wearing glasses, with messy black hair, looking exactly like Harry. He was embracing a woman, his smile tinged with tears.

They are their parents, Lily and James.

West was momentarily stunned, then his pupils suddenly contracted.

Another red-haired couple emerged from the mist behind them.

The woman took his hand, her beautiful face radiating happiness. Her long red hair was braided into a plait and coiled at the back, with cornflowers twinkling in it. Her dark eyes sparkled, revealing innocence and liveliness.

The man exuded a more mature and composed aura. A medal engraved with a black snake totem hung on his black robe. His red hair was neatly combed, his features were three-dimensional, and his deep black eyes gazed at him and the woman. He reached out and ruffled the woman's hair.

West forced himself to look away, examining the layers of mist behind him, where another tall, slender figure could be vaguely discerned.

Seemingly sensing his gaze, the man pushed through the fog and stepped out.

When Severus Snape emerged from the mist, West's previously dazed expression suddenly snapped to attention.

Is this...his desire?

West's face turned pale, and his gaze shifted back to the red-haired couple.

A sharp pain shot through his temples, and countless fragments of memories shrouded in darkness surged through his mind.

A melancholy female voice was singing a familiar lullaby, which kept swirling in my mind.

"Sleep, sleep, my dearest baby—a sliver of moonlight rests on your eyelashes—the windowpane is humming an eighteenth-century ship's song—"

West tried to dispel the fog, but could not find a way, and was even vaguely swallowed by the black fog.

"Vester?! What's wrong with you?"

Harry's voice seemed to come from another time and space.

When West came to his senses, he found himself kneeling on the cold stone slab, Harry supporting him on the arm, his face pale, and the people in the mirror watching him with concern.

"...Harry, get out of here," West said in a low voice.

Harry bit his lip nervously and helped West out of the classroom.

Once he was away from the mirror, West's headache eased somewhat, and he was finally able to catch his breath. His forehead was soaked with sweat, and his face was deathly pale.

"West..." Harry looked at West with some nervousness.

"Go back, Harry," West said, leaning against the wall, his face still grim.

Harry escorted him back to the Slytherin common room, turning back several times before leaving. "Are you sure you don't want to go to the hospital wing, West?"

West had recovered, though he still looked a little pale. "I'm fine, you can go back now."

He hesitated for a moment, then said, "If you can, don't look at that mirror, Harry."

He turned his head, his pale face hidden in the darkness. "He only showed us our desires, not the truth."

Harry was silent for a while before saying, "I understand," and then turned and left.

West stood there for a while before returning to his dormitory. He knew Harry wouldn't listen to him, so he decided to let him watch a little longer.

Harry has never seen his parents since he can remember.

As for the red-haired couple, just thinking about them made West feel a churning in his brain, heart, and stomach, almost overwhelming him with pain.

They must be very important to him, West thought, but no matter what, the current situation made it inconvenient for him to investigate further, so he could only put it aside for now.

He had a feeling that he would find out everything at the right time.

The snow hadn't melted by the next morning.

West hadn't slept all night, and his eyes were covered in bruises.

To prevent Harry from seeing, he cast a radiance charm on himself to cover his dark circles.

When he arrived at the Great Hall, Harry and Ron were sitting at the long table.

Harry looked listless, slumped over the table, and declined Ron's invitation to wizardry.

"West?" Harry saw West, looked up, and asked, "What did you see?"

West sat down beside him. "Just as you see."

Harry was a little worried. "But your reaction..." His intuition told him he shouldn't ask too much. West didn't want to say, but he couldn't help himself.

"Harry, it was an accident, I'm fine now." West shook his head. "Indulging in illusions isn't a good thing, you should go less often, okay?"

Ron watched them exchanging cryptic remarks, looking on with a puzzled expression.

"...Okay." Harry answered somewhat reluctantly, keeping his head down and avoiding looking at West.

Of course, he went twice more, out of West's sight, and the second time he brought Ron with him.

Ron envisions himself as the Quidditch captain and student council president, holding the House Cup and the Quidditch Cup, a man of great success and fame.

On the third night, Harry went alone.

He squatted on the ground, staring fascinated at the happy family in the mirror.

"So, you've come again, Harry?"

Harry was startled; his blood nearly froze. He turned around and saw Dumbledore sitting in a chair behind him, watching him.

Dumbledore and Harry talked about the mirror, about the scenes they saw, and finally announced that the mirror would be moved to another location the next day.

"It is of no benefit to indulge in vain dreams and forget the realities of life," said Dumbledore.

West said the same thing.

Harry blinked and asked, "Professor Dumbledore, may I ask you a question?"

"Of course," Dumbledore smiled. "You just did that. But you can ask me one more question."

What do you see when you look in the mirror?

"Me? I saw myself holding a pair of thick wool socks."

Harry's eyes widened.

Back in his dormitory bed, Harry stared at the top of the canopy and thought to himself that neither Dumbledore nor West were telling the truth.