It does not to dwell on dreams and forget to live.

:::

Lily Luna was tiptoeing along the corridors of Hogwarts, clad in her nightgown and her deceased father's Invisibility Cloak. She didn't know where she was going, all she knew was that she desperately needed to get away from approximately everything for as long as possible, to be able to think clearly. Everything she'd done so far was a complete disaster, and not only was she risking her own life, but the welfare of the entire Wizarding World.

She had promised her mother that she'd succeed where her father had failed – a failure the consequences of which included his death and the loss of the Second Wizarding War -, but so far, she seemed to be doing even worse than he'd ever done.

Before she made any other moves, she would sit somewhere tranquil, consider, reconsider, and go over obsessively every single detail of the plan she would come up with, checking for mistakes and flaws. She couldn't afford another one, and this wasn't only about her. Everything anyone's ever held dear was at stake.

As she ventured aimlessly in the castle's corridors, she couldn't block out the memories rushing back at her, penetrating her mind despite her best efforts. Tears swelled in her eyes and she had a feeling her emotions were going to prevent her from coming up with a sound plan that night as well, as they had all the nights before. She couldn't say she expected better of her own self.

"Are you sure you want to do this, Lily Luna?" Ginevra Weasley, her mother asked. Her voice was flat and emotionless; there was no trace in her dull, brown eyes of the passion and happiness that was said to once have been there. The war had changed her.

Lily Luna felt a wave of anger wash over her and get the better of her. "Why are you doubting me, mother!" she demanded; Ginevra seemed unmoved by her emotional outburst, and that enraged her all the more. "I'm the only hope this world's got, and you very well know it! I'm the daughter of Harry Potter, the Chosen One!"

Ginevra cocked an eyebrow superciliously. "Those are big words coming from a little girl."

"Since when have I been little! I have grown up with death and destruction and chaos all around me! I'm much more mature than most thirteen-year olds!"

"I still think we should wait a couple of more years before sending you on this quest," her mother opinioned, in her usual quiet but authorative and firm voice. "If the Order's managed to keep you alive and hidden for so long, I'm sure they can keep it up for a few more years, until you've matured more."

"'Matured more'! I'm mature enough already! And you never know, You-Know-Who could come banging on our door in any minute! Since you've become a full-time mother and trainer, the Order doesn't tell you anything. Shows just how stupid the Order is, if you ask me, and anyways-"

"Shut your mouth, Lily Luna Potter, before I do something you'll regret."

"Like?" Lily asked testily.

"Like hex you into the next century. Believe me, I could do that."

"Then why hadn't you gone back in time and saved the world from the Dark Lord?" she hissed through gritted teeth, poisonous green eyes narrowed to slits.

Ginevra looked uncomfortable. It was rarely that she let her guard down so, and Lily Luna planned to savor every minute of her little, inconsequential but all the more pleasant victory.

"Th-this was very unfair of you to bring up, Lily Luna Potter," her mother said, her nostrils flaring, unable to keep out the fury in her voice. This time, she was madder at her own self than at her daughter; why did she have to write in that diary and confide in Tom Riddle? Why was she still in love with the person she knew he wasn't after all these years despite having given birth to someone else's child?

Lily smiled contentedly. "Really? Why? It's just the truth."

Ginevra glared at her with such hatred and fury that Lily had never encountered before. She gasped and took an involuntary step back; the look on her mother's face was downright intimidating. Ginevra smiled slightly, but contentedly. Mother and daughter were just as childish when it came to small victories.

"You wanna know what the truth is about you, then, Lily Luna?"

"I already know it."

"No, I meant the real truth, honey. Not the fantasy world you live in."

Lily snorted.

"You're nothing but an insufferable little brat who thinks too highly of herself for her own good. I've done my best to raise you; I don't know where you get this attitude from, but my bringing up certainly has nothing to do with it,"

Lily snorted but her mother went on before she could interrupt, which she intensely craved to do. She felt as if her mother was squishing her like a bug.

"You hide all your petty little adolescent insecurities behind an egotistic, ego-centric façade that annoys everybody out of their right mind. If the choice were up to me, I'd choose anybody else to complete this task, but the others seem to think it's your obligation, considering who your father is, to carry it out. You might think this is your big chance to prove yourself, which merely undermines my theory about your insecurities, but you're wrong. One day you're going to regret that life's given this opportunity, or rather just chance to put your pretty little neck at risk," Ginevra went on. "And you'll make your father roll over in his grave and you'll disappoint just about everybody in both the Muggle and the Wizarding World when you fail to complete the task of killing, or at least redeeming Tom Riddle, or stopping himself in any way. You're just not competent, my dearest daughter."

Lily was unable to reply. Angry tears had swelled in her eyes and because of the erratic thumping of her heart against her ribcage, she was unable to concentrate on her tumultuous thoughts let alone come up with a proper riposte. She did her best to blink the tears back and remain calm, but when a malicious smile spread across her mother's face and she felt hot tears running down her cheeks she knew she had failed.

"I hate you. I hate you with all my heart." she chocked out between sobs.

Ginevra still seemed unmoved and her usual inscrutable expression was set back in its place. She blinked innocently.

"Really? Because I was just about to allow you to go on that quest. But as you wish…"

In the end she'd gotten her wish and was able to go. Her hypocritical, selfish mother might have been harsh about everything she had said, she might have shattered Lily Luna's self-esteem and turned her into an emotional wreck, but she had been right about all of it. They should have sent someone more competent to complete this task. And if they should have sent her, they should have certainly given her a few more years to mature as a person and make progress as a witch. Like this, she was no match for Tom Riddle. In fact, she wondered why he hadn't already gotten rid of her. She knew he could have made her death look like an accident had he wanted to. He probably wanted to use her for something though, she decided in the end.

"So… your name is?" Albus Dumbledore had asked of her on her first day of arrival into the past. Lily Luna had been irrevocably shocked upon seeing the great hero of the war against Grindelwald, and the First and the Second Wizarding War, founder of the Order of the Phoenix and whatnot. What surprised her even more that despite his middle-aged appearance, his eyes were terrifyingly mature, as if he knew everything there was to know in the world and as if he could see right through everyone. Or at least, that was the feeling Lily got when he looked into those blue eyes that stared back at her emotionlessly.

"My name is Angelina Moore," she replied after a minute of staring. Her furiously beating heart and her panicked thoughts – both very unheroic things in her opinion – made it excessively hard to concentrate on her task and made it even harder to actually complete it.

"And your age?"

Lily Luna swallowed hard. "I'm seventeen, sir."

The old – or future – headmaster took a good look at her, readjusting his half-moon spectacles on the bridge of his nose. "Well, you certainly seem younger." he commented.

"B-but I can prove it, sir! I can show you spells not even seventh years know!"

The old man cocked an eyebrow, and Lily knew she had said too much; she had arrived only mere minutes ago, was collected by Dumbledore who had been walking the grounds upon her arrival by some fortunate (or unfortunate?; she was unable to decide) twist of fate, and was already messing things up.

Your mother had been right, an irritating voice in her mind told her. Lily did her best to ignore it and dismiss the notion it had proposed, but it kept returning and whispering other cruel realities she didn't wish to acknowledge despite her best attempts.

"Really?" Dumbledore had asked. "And how is that?"

"M-my parents were naturalists, sir. They lived in the forests, and I with them; it was their job, they observed Magical Creatures in their natural habitat and sometimes were even lucky enough to discover a new one, or a crossbeed," Lily pretended to sniff; if she was good at one thing, that was lying and pretending. Of course, she came nowhere near to Tom Marvolo Riddle, but nobody came near him. "Of course, that was before they died." Tears swelled up in Lily's eyes; it was easy to 'force' herself to cry. She harbored so much hopelessness and despair that even if she just let a little of it out, the waterworks turned on already. She screwed up her face as cold tears rolled down her cheeks, then buried it in her palms as she started trembling uncontrollably all over.

Dumbledore emitted a low, guttural sound that indicated just how uncomfortable he felt. Lily couldn't help but smile contentedly behind her palms; the tiny but revealing gesture went unnoticed by the future Headmaster.

"Alright, alright," he said, putting an arm around Lily, to whom this gesture felt forced and awkward. "Let's get you to Madame Miriam and see if she can give you any Anti Depressant Potions? The Welcome Feast will begin in just about an hour, you need to calm down… we need to present you to the Headmaster first as well…" he said with a sigh.

Lily knew that Dumbledore probably sensed that something wasn't quite right about her, being the great wizard she could only ever wish to be; later she figured it out that she came back because of Riddle, and he probably knew very well what she wanted to do, and sometimes he even tried to aid her, but since she refused to reveal anything to him concerning her mission he was unable to really, actually help her progress with her task.

She could have very well used his help, but she still didn't want to make him her accomplice. It seemed like a fairly appealing alternative, but Lily wanted to do this all alone. When she returned home, triumphant, she didn't want her mother to be able to say that she was only able to succeed thanks to Dumbeldore's generous aid. Besides, she wanted to prove her capability to her own self as well. She always told herself that she would succeed because she was, after all, Lily Luna Potter.

Reliving the memory with tears stinging her eyes, she wondered how many other wrong choices that would seem ever so wise, mature, and clever at the moment she was going to make in the future. She desperately hoped that none, but wishful thinking was a dangerous thing so she tried her best to dismiss the ridiculous hope. Nobody was perfect, especially not her. And she meant that in the most negative way possible.

"So your parents were naturalists, huh, Miss...?" Tom Riddle had begun on their first encounter.

Lily Luna was so stunned by how incredibly handsome and desirable he looked, especially from so close, that she could only gawk for a few moments. Then she mentally slapped herself, reminding herself that he was the enemy. Already then, she knew she was going to mess everything up.

"Miss Moore," she said at last, her voice a little too squeaky for even her own ears, "But I prefer Gina. It's much less formal," she said, doing her best to smile up at him widely and naively, as if she hadn't a clue who he was or what he was planning to become in the future, and what he was doing already in the Chamber of Secrets after curfew.

Riddle returned the smile promptly, neither too suspiciously fast or too hesitantly. It was only because they were so close that Lily Luna was able to spot something completely amiss in his pitless black orbs. What he saw in there frightened her, and she could barely repress a gasp.

"Is there something wrong, Gina?" the words sounded alien on his lips. "You seem… frightened."

Oh, no, please, don't let me mess up again, Lily Luna had thought, pleading to Merlin or anyone else who'd listen. "No, no! Nothing, of course. What wrong would there be?"

"Nothing, of course," Tom said, frowning slightly before forcing a smile on his lips.

Gina returned the smile tentatively. "So, as I'm Head Boy and in your house as well, I'm responsible for your welfare at Hogwarts. Considering your past, especially – i-if you don't mind me mentioning it, of course." he added, as if he even cared.

Lily Luna smiled bitterly, tears stinging her eyes as she thought about her real past, not the cover-up story she had made up to be able to fit in this world.

"No, it's OK. I'm over it." Lily Luna said, and it was possible the biggest lie she'd ever told. She sniffled.

Riddle put a cold arm around her. The blood in her froze and she stiffened. It was meant to be a comforting gesture, she presumed, but all he did was make her feel endangered. Riddle patted her shoulders, pulling her closer.

"Is there anything… particular, that you'd like to talk to me about your past? You know I'm here to listen,"

Lily Luna's heart was beating against her chest. "N-no," she said hastily, sniffling, sounding unconvincing. "There's nothing I'd like to talk to you about my past," she said truthfully. She looked up at him and forced herself to smile. "It's really nice of you to ask,…?" as if she didn't know his name. Everybody knew Tom Marvolo Riddle's name, or rather the pseudonym he took on in later years when he shed all of his humanity like a snake sheds its skin, taking on the name of Lord Voldemort and becoming the most powerful dark wizard the world had ever seen.

"It's Tom Riddle. And don't even mention it, it's my duty as Head Boy," Riddle said kindly.

Lily Luna forced herself to smile one last time before excusing herself and rushing off to Herbology, which was a subject Riddle luckily didn't take.

This wasn't the first one of her encounters with him, but it was certainly the best one so far, as depressing as that was. Riddle wasn't completely stupid and, like most of the students at Hogwarts, noticed that she was very different from the average Hogwarts student of the époque. She acted, talked, even walked differently than most girls, and had drastically different ideas about general topics than most people her age and gender. Lily wasn't a perfect actress, and sometimes let her guard down. Unfortunately, sometimes was a few times too many when it came to Tom Riddle, who immediately suspected that she was from the future.

She pretended to laugh when he asked her, though to her very own ears she sounded uneasy and unconvincing. She shuddered to imagine what her words sounded like to the future Lord Voldemort.

"That's really funny, Tom," his name felt like venom on her lips, "Is that all you wanted to talk to me about? Because you know, I've got a DADA essay to write and…" she went on, trying to ignore the malicious smile subduing Tom's lips. She swallowed hard.

"Yes? And you've got to hurry?" he suggested innocently.

"Well, yes," Lily Luna said.

Riddle pretended to smile. "Sure, tag along. You're right, it was a ridiculous notion. I have a Potions essay to complete, too. Oh, wait, could you just tell me one thing?"

Lily Luna narrowed her eyes but stopped in her tracks anyway. She whipped her head around, her long auburn mane flying behind her. "What?" she demanded, way more snappishly than she'd intended to.

Riddle just smiled, and there was a mocking quality to the gesture that never felt reassuring when it came from him to begin with.

"Who invented the Wolfsbane Potion?" he asked of her.

Lily Luna blinked, her thin eyebrows contracting. "Oh, that's easy," she said, surprised. "It was Damocles Legrec. You really didn't know?" she asked, slightly suspicious.

Ridde's unceasing smile only broadened till it reached his ears. "No, I didn't know. Because several potioneers are working on it at the moment, but none of them had succeeded yet in making a potion that could help werewolves in anyway."

Lily Luna's jaws dropped and her heart recommenced pounding against her ribcage. What now, what now?, she thought, panicked.

"I guess we have different textbooks then. Maybe you have a newer edition, right? Mine is secondhand, you see," he said, his smile disappearing just for a moment. Lily wanted to run but her legs wouldn't budge. She wished the earth would swallow her. "I have to repeat the question I'd asked on our first meet. Is there really nothing in particular that you'd like to discuss with me about your past – or, pardon me, future, actually?"

Lily Luna did the only thing that came natural to her: she ran away without looking back. Riddle's laughed reverberated in her skull long after she had exited the deserted corridor they had been talking in.

Lily Luna had long broken into tears at that point. She was doing her best to repress the wails threatening to break out of her, but she some sobs escaped her mouth nevertheless. She prayed desperately to Merlin that no one was around to notice her, least of all Tom Riddle. She didn't know why she thought that, but ever since she'd arrived in the past and met the future Dark Lord, she'd become even more paranoid than she used to be in her own time.

She watched as her legs brought her forwards. She didn't know where she was going, but anywhere out of the castle was fine. She wished she could escape. She had considered ditching Hogwarts and abandoning her whole mission, but she was unable to fit into this world and thus she had reconsidered. She wouldn't be able to live with herself for the rest of her life if she failed to at least try to save the future; she wasn't a complete coward. Despite being a Slytherin while both her parents were Gryffindors. Evidently, there was some part of them in her, despite what her mother said, that she was a child completely her own.

Then she noticed where her legs have brought her to. She heaved a silent sigh as she spotted the object not so near. She should have known. Her heart always brought her here when she went out for midnight walks.

It was the Mirror of Erised, well-hidden on the seventh floor, but Lily Luna had still been able to find it. She didn't know how or why her, she just guessed it was what people would call destiny.

So it was her destiny to escape from reality into that mirror every night and never want to return to the real world? Pathetic, but strangely enough, fitting for someone like her. Not just someone like her, actually. Such a pathetic fate would be only fitting of one person, Lily Luna Potter exclusively.

She remembered her mother's words and imagined her father rolling in his grave right now. The thought gave her goosebumps and a feeling of guilt washed over her. She owed this, to her dad. It was a familial binding, correcting the mistakes of your ancestors to make things better for future generations.

She sat down in front of the mirror. The ground was cold, but she hardly cared. All she cared about was what she saw in the mirror. What she wished was reality, but in truth was only the dreamworld she liked to escape into even when she wasn't sitting in front of a mirror, glued to it like some sort of parasite. In truth, the mirror served as something as addictive as a drug for her. Almost every passing hour of the day, she wished she were sitting in front of it, admiring the perfect future that was so near yet so far away at the same time.

She didn't take the Invisibility Cloak off; in the mirror, she was still visible to herself. She waited for the mirror to show her her one true desire, so she could get lost in it and escape from cruel reality. She had to waited what felt like an eternity, though was really only mere seconds, till the mirror activated itself.

Slowly, the image of a messy, black-haired and bespectacled man appeared in the mirror. He was hugging a slim, beautiful redhead, who was caressing his chest lovingly. Harry and Ginny Potter, a picture perfect couple. They were both smiling down at her with all the love Lily Luna had never experienced in her life. Soon, other people appeared besides the pair. People who were perfect little mixtures of Harry and Ginny; they were laughing, chasing each other around, motioning Lily Luna to come and join the party.

Tears streamed down the hopeless girl's face. She didn't care anymore if anyone heard her. She knew what was coming next, and she wished it wouldn't.

Could a person have control over what she desired and what she did not? Even if a person did, Lily Luna knew she wasn't able to do so. If only that was the only important thing she was unable to do…, she sighed wistfully.

Then he appeared. His hair and eyes were just as black as his heart. He wore a smile on his face, one that seemed much more genuine than all the smiles he had ever shot her. It suited him more than his smirks that contorted his soft, handsome features until he looked nothing short of a demon. His face wasn't completely pale either, there was a color and life in both his eyes and his face.

Then came the worst part.

Lily Luna appeared on his side. They were hugging in the same way her parents were, and, just like the two adults, they stole loving glances from the other when they weren't busy conversing with the others in the frame.

Lily buried her face in her palms. How could she be so pathetic? It was obvious her mother, whom everyone seemed to look up to and admire for her strength, hated her and thought she was worthless. She shouldn't be craving her love. She should just accept the facts and move on. And her father? He was never going to come back from the dead. No way the two of them were going to have children again, make little kids who all looked up and adored their oldest sister for all that she had done. Especially, since she hadn't ever done anything worthwile in her life.

And Tom Marvolo Riddle? He was never going to be hers. He was never going to love her. He was never going to love anyone, because if one person couldn't redeem him, that was Lily Luna.

She realized soon into her mission that unless someone held him down for her, she wasn't going to be able to finish him off. Let alone succeed in making his death look an accident and in no way related to her arrival. Not everyone was as naïve and dumb as Headmaster Armando Dipet; several people were already wary and some even a little suspicious of her. Riddle's mindless, devoted followers would surely try to take revenge if they found out that she'd killed him, and being Slytherins, they probably would.

She had tried to getting close to him to be able to redeem him, but all their conversations ended up being around Lily's questionable past – or future? Lily feared to spend more time with him in fears of her secret being revealed. It was just a matter of time before Riddle would get out of her what he wanted to know about the future, by force if she wouldn't cooperate otherwise. He might even use Crucio on her, or whatever horrible spells he had made up on his own. He wouldn't care. She was unable to comprehend, how, when, and why exactly she had fallen in love with Tom Marvolo Riddle, the future Vanquisher of Light, the incarnation of pure evil. She guessed she was just a particularly stupid girl and Riddle a particularly talented pretender. She knew she was in love with the nearly perfect person he always pretended to be, not with his true self. How could she be so stupid? Like mother, like daughter, a voice in her head said.

Lily Luna wept harder. But as she got lost in the image the mirror had projected for her, they soon became tears of sheer joy.

:::

He was roaming the corridors of Hogwarts aimlessly. It helped clear his head. He didn't worry about getting caught. No one would ever dare to give him detention. He would have liked to see them try. That would have certainly been a ridiculous show.

Then he heard loud weeping, mingled with laughter. In all his life he had thought someone crying and laughing at the same time was a most peculiar but all the more intriguing phenomenon.

He absently twirled his long beard around his fingers as he approached the direction the noise was coming from, observing his surroundings; he sighed, realizing where the corridor led to. The Mirror of Erised.

He didn't see anyone in front of the mirror. His eyebrows contracted in confusion. How was that possible? Then the obvious finally dawned on him: the person must have been wearing an Invisibility Cloak. But who could be in possession of such a valuable magical artifact? Riddle? He frowned. How could it have escaped his notice, then? He kept such a close eye on him…. no, it couldn't have been him. He would have known that. But then who could it be?

Moreover, it was a female voice. He started having suspicions… and his suspicions, as per usual, were confirmed when the owner of the Cloak stood up, slipping out of it, revealing herself to be a malnourished looking girl who looked at most fourteen years old; it was only her eyes which were immeasurably more mature than one's eyes should be at her age. It was because of the maturity in them and all the knowledge concerning magic she had that she could convince Dipet that she was just a young-looking seventeen-year old. He, however, had never been fooled so easily.

He suspected that there was much more to the young girl than what she put off; he, as far-fetched and impossible the idea sounded, suspected that she was from the future. Her manners, her behavior, everything about her suggested that she was from a much more advanced time. He also suspected that her return had something to do with Tom Marvolo Riddle, though what it was he could or just didn't want to imagine. Anyhow, he had started keeping an even closer eye on the boy, and had watched the girl from a distance too.

With Grindelwald on the rise, he didn't have all the time, however, to devote to stalking the two students. Besides, there was always the possibility that he was just being paranoid. Lots of people had been telling him that lately, and Dumbledore thought there might just be a grain of truth in their words, but he was too busy with everything to really pay attention to them.

The girl was touching the mirror, laughing with tears falling from her eyes.

"Mom… Dad…" she whispered, then sighed wearily. "Tom…"

Tom? Tom Marvolo Riddle?

He slowly crept closer; the girl was so absorbed in the mirror of desires that she took no notice of him, until he quickened his pace and his footsteps started echoing in the narrow corridor. She whirled around abruptly. Her eyes that were already oversized for her thin face and sullen cheeks became even wider with sheer fear as she spotted him.

"Good evening, Miss Moore. I see you have discovered the Mirror of Erised." he said in a politely indifferent tone he had practiced to perfection over the years.

The girl's mouth was hanging open; she attempted to say something several times, but she seemed too panicked for her mind to be able to come up with intelligible sentences.

"P-Professor Dumbledore…" she stammered at last, seemingly unable to believe her bad luck.

Dumbledore's nodded unsmilingly. "In person." he added unnecessarily.

"I… I can explain," she said, sounding desperate; she was still glued to the mirror, her frail hands touching the surface of it, unable to move away, or most probably not even wanting to.

"There's nothing to explain, Miss Moore. Is that even your real name?" he asked with innocent curiosity.

The girl was unable to answer for a long time. In the end, she just turned away and collapsed on the floor in front of the mirror. She pulled her knees up to her chest and wept into her palms, trembling like a leaf in a storm. Dumbledore couldn't remember seeing anything more pathetic or pitiful in his entire life.

I'll take that as a no, he thought to himself before bending down and feeling the ground for the Invisibility Cloak. The whirled around once he finally grabbed it.

"Don't touch it," she said, and her usually dead eyes were alight with emotion. Fury. "That's my father's," she clarified furiously. "You won't take it from me!" she said with a note of hysteria in her voice, and sprang to her feet to tear the Cloak out of Dumbledore's hands.

Dumbledore watched, slightly wry though trying to conceal that fact.

"I'm sorry, Miss Moore, it's yours," he said apologetically.

The auburn-haired girl merely glared at him, then flopped down in front of the Mirror and, sniffling, started gazing at it again. A wide, radiating smile spread across her face, lighting it up. She suddenly didn't look so sickly anymore. Dumbledore allowed her to watch her greatest desires unfold in front of her eyes before he stepped closer to her and placed an arm gently on her shoulder to attract her attention. She instinctively brushed it off, not as much as glancing at the old man, her eyes glued to the mirror.

"It does not to dwell on dreams and forget to live." he told her abruptly.

The girl finally looked at him, square in the eyes, her own pair of strikingly green orbs wide with something indescribable Dumbledore had never encountered before. He nodded at her, removing his hand from her shoulders.

"It's hard, I know," he went on, sitting down beside her. The girl didn't know what to make of it. "You're not the first victim of this mirror, and most definitely not the last," he sighed wearily, remembering all those people who have once fallen into the mirror's trap, including his own self. His eyes glazed over for a minute before he continued. "But as I've said, it doesn't do to escape from reality. Especially when you can make your dreams come true,"

"Y-you can?" the young girl asked, unable to conceal her desperasion.

Dumbledore considered her for a moment before nodding. His experience was that most young girls always wished for something that was attainable through concentrated effort and hard work. He wasn't all so sure about this girl, but he didn't know what could make her so different from the rest, other than the obvious reasons of course.

"R-really? B-but…" the girl hesitated for a moment.

"Yes, go on," he said mildly.

"But… what if you can't?" she asked, turning away, her eyes becoming cloudy. "What if it's just impossible and there's no way you can do it? Especially alone?" she said, sobbing and brushing the tears away from the corner of her eyes with her arms.

Dumbledore felt sorry for her. He's seen plenty of students cry before, but this one was the most pitiful of them all. He felt sorry for her and wondered what was pressing down on her like this.

"That depends on what the problem is," he conceded at last, deciding to be honest. Something he found doing less and less often ever since Grindelwald came to power; true, it was wrong to manipulate people, but if they knew too much they wouldn't obey. It was all for the greater good…

"I was afraid you might say that," the girl said between sobs.

Dumbledore put an arm comfortingly on her shoulder. "Would you care to tell me what the problem is?"

The girl shook his arm off immediately. She pulled her legs up to her chest and rested her chin on her knees. She sniffled, wiping her eyes. A determined expression appeared on her face. "No," she said firmly at last. "I can do this alone. I'm Lily Luna Potter for Merlin's sake!" she exclaimed, sounding as though she was trying to convince herself rather than Dumbledore.

Dumbledore's eyebrows seemed to be on a mission to appear into the man's receding hairline. Lily Luna Potter whipped her hand around to face him, a hand clasped on her mouth. He swore he could hear her frantic heartbeat. A faint smile appeared on his face. "I thought your name was Angelina Moore."

Lily Luna narrowed her eyes at him. "Of course it is. It's just… a nickname of mine. I don't really like my real name, you see, Professor. I think this happens with a lot of people. My friend Harold in Slytherin – you might know him, his last name's Parkinson – did the same thing. With a name like Harold though, it's no miracle though…" she said, forcing a weak laugh. If Dumbledore wouldn't have had decades of experience, he might have even fallen for her act. Like this, he just smiled indulgently.

"While I'm sure that's the truth, you can always come to me if there's something you feel you need to confess, or if you need help-" he said, glancing at the mirror of Erised in front of them. The image he saw in the mirror depressed him instead of cheering him up, like it did most people. This girl was right – there were things one could just never attain. A happy family life for example, Albus thought, gazing at the unrealistic but all the more appealing image in the mirror. Then he shook his head and turned back to the girl, who was staring at him with wide eyes.

"What do you see in the mirror, sir?" she asked curiously. Albus just shook his head.

"Or if you need help with your dreams and desires," he finished what he had previously begun saying.

Lily Luna frowned. She turned away. "I would, but there's simply nothing to confess," she said, her voice dying towards the end. She broke into fresh sobs.

He stood up, watching the girl thoughtfully. He decided it was worth one more try. "You can confide in me anything you like, Lily Luna Potter," the girl froze at the mention of her real name. "Hopefully, in the time you've come from, I've carried out my plans and became a respectable wizard," he said with the ghost of a smile on his face.

Lily Luna glared up at him, incredulous. "I don't need your help. I don't need anyone's," she hissed menacingly, her green eyes sparkling with just the subtlest hint of madness. "I'm Lily Luna Potter. I'm not a disgrace, I can do this alone. I can succeed where not only my father, but everyone else had failed." she said not very convincingly, but daring him with her eyes to disagree.

He just looked at her sadly.

"What?" she demanded in a hiss, her green eyes narrowed into two thin lines.

"It does not to dwell on dreams and forget to live." he said again, glancing at the mirror and tearing his eyes away just in time.

Lily Luna's expression changed, and for a moment he saw comprehension and enlightment, but the look vanished just as quickly as it had appeared. "I don't need your help." she said at last, looking him straight in the eye and not squirming or flinching.

Even if you would, I wouldn't give it to you; you can't be helped. Dumbledore thought, knowing from years of experience of dealing with people when a person beyond help, lost to the world of unfulfilled but all the more appealing dreams and insanity. Even if this girl's arrival had something to do with Tom Riddle, he'd just better let her be. He could take care of Tom Riddle, he told himself, promising to keep an even closer eye on him in the future.

"It does not to dwell on the dreams and forget to live." he repeated himself, knowing it was no use. He just felt it his duty to try everything to save a person.

Lily Luna Potter didn't reply, she just gazed at the mirror. The last hope of both the Wizarding and the Muggle World was lost forever to the Mirror of Erised.

Dumbledore walked away from her, as had everybody else in her life, and didn't look back.

The end.

a/N: Alright, I think I have some explaining to do. I am working on several bigger projects ATM and when I get sick of writing them, I write oneshots like this. I don't know where this idea came from, I just saw this challenge on the Avada Kedavra, inc forum (still can't get over how awesome the name is, though) and desperately wanted to write something for it because the theme of the challenge just spoke to me.

I enjoyed writing this because it wasn't about a typical hero figure coughcoughHarrycoughcough. I also think this a realistic interpretation of what could have happened if Voldemort had won. No, I don't think Harry's child would have turned out to be as super special awesome as he was, especially if her own mother was distant and cold with her, and nobody else had the time of day to care about her because they were all too busy fighting and rebelling against Voldemort.

And yes, Ginny does seem like the kind of person to me who could grow cold in very bad circumstances. And no, just because one's parents were sorted into a certain house, doesn't necessarily mean that the child will be sorted into the very same house. The best example of this is Sirius Black. I do think Dumbledore would have given up on certain people, especially when he was younger and more naïve.

By the end I really did want to write a happy ending for Lily Luna… but sometimes, in life, things just don't work out that way.

I hope to hear your opinions! Yes, that means review.