Ever since the beginning, I knew which house I belonged to. It was something instinctive, something that I had known as soon as I met Harry. As soon as I met Ron, who explained what houses even were. As soon as I met Hermione, who waltzed in, sat down, and informed me that, ”Ravenclaw wouldn’t be so bad.” I knew from the moment the Sorting Hat leapt to life and sang out:
“Or perhaps in Slytherin,
You’ll make your real friends,
Those cunning folk use any means,
To achieve their ends.”
I knew I was a Slytherin even though I disliked Draco and was utterly disgusted with Crabbbe and Goyle, I just knew. As Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Neville grew, so did I, as they learned more about their house, so did I.
In my quest to re-read every Harry Potter book before the release of the final movie, I discovered something curious. In The Sorcerer’s (Philosopher’s) Stone, Chapter Twelve: The Mirror of Erised, Harry discovers the mirror for the first time. He is shocked to see his parents and brings Ron back later to show him, only Ron doesn’t see Harry’s family, Ron sees himself, better than his brothers.
The scene is touching and provides us with deep insight into both Ron and Harry’s minds. Yet, it is the scene with Dumbledore that intrigues me the most. Dumbledore states, that the mirror “shows us nothing more or less than the deepest, most desperate desire of our hearts.” And, “However, this mirror will give us neither knowledge or truth.”