CHAPTER TWELVE
His panic fading now that there was no sound of Filch and
Snape, Harry moved nearer to the mirror, wanting to look at him-
self but see no reflection again. He stepped in front of it.
He had to clap his hands to his mouth to stop himself from
screaming. He whirled around. His heart was pounding far more
furiously than when the book had screamed — for he had seen not
only himself in the mirror, but a whole crowd of people standing
right behind him.
But the room was empty. Breathing very fast, he turned slowly
back to the mirror.
There he was, reflected in it, white and scared-looking, and
there, reflected behind him, were at least ten others. Harry looked
over his shoulder — but still, no one was there. Or were they all in-
visible, too? Was he in fact in a room full of invisible people and
this mirrors trick was that it reflected them, invisible or not?
He looked in the mirror again. A woman standing right behind
his reflection was smiling at him and waving. He reached out a
hand and felt the air behind him. If she was really there, he’d touch
her, their reflections were so close together, but he felt only air —
she and the others existed only in the mirror.
She was a very pretty woman. She had dark red hair and her
eyes — her eyes are just like mine, Harry thought, edging a little
closer to the glass. Bright green — exactly the same shape, but then
he noticed that she was crying; smiling, but crying at the same
time. The tall, thin, black-haired man standing next to her put his
arm around her. He wore glasses, and his hair was very untidy. It
stuck up at the back, just as Harry’s did.
Harry was so close to the mirror now that his nose was nearly
touching that of his reflection.
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