Three Hallows, Two Weasleys and One Broken Girl

Prologue

Dumbledore sighed softly as he strode down a dark corridor toward the library.
He often walked the school at night. He found it calming to know all was well in his sanctuary before he went to bed, and he did tend to discover some of the more mischievous students his caretaker, Filch, failed to catch.

He'd already escorted the Weasley twins - only in their first year and already preparing to be the most devious students in the history of these hallowed halls - back to their common room, and was now on his way to check the restricted section before bed.
He rarely stopped students who had thirst of knowledge and courage great enough to sneak in there. He could never deny the desire for wisdom. But he did think it wise to keep tabs on who visited and what they read. He would not make the same mistake twice.

As usual, instead of going straight to the library he was drawn to a side room. He often visited the Mirror of Erised. He liked to see his sister and though he knew the addictive nature of the object, what's the point of being 151 if you can't indulge a little.

Pushing open the door softly, he almost jumped, a rarity for him outside of muggle theatres.
There was a girl, small and certainly a first year, already in the room.
Her hair was long, white blond and wild, down to her hips, and her robes a little too large.
She faced away from him, but the hair marked her as a Lovegood immediately. The eldest daughter who'd been sorted into Ravenclaw not a week before.

Dumbledore deflated somewhat as he watched her gaze into the mirror in the dim classroom. The mother had died little more than half a year before, a creator of spells, imaginative and daring and fully deserving of the name Pandora - all gifted. She'd been a student of his, one of his best and her death had come as a shock to them all, testing her husband's already tenuous grasp on reality and leaving the girls in his affectionate but not overly reliable care.

The eldest before him, must have been forced to grow up far too early, and it felt wrong in a way to disturb her peace. But the mirror was dangerous, and he could not bear to see a child under his care fall into its all too enticing embrace.
"Delphi, isn't it?"
She didn't even jump at the sound of his voice, turning to look at him with frighteningly old indigo eyes framed in a pale child's face, "Yes, headmaster."
Her voice was soft, with the same Irish lilt as her parents.

His smile must have encouraged her as she spoke again, "what is the mirror supposed to show you?"
He furrowed his burrows, a sensible question but unusual phrasing. "Why, what does it show you?"
"It's dark." She murmured, eyes steady and emotionless, "darker than anything I've seen. Calm and peaceful and deep as an ocean."
Dumbledore gripped the unused desk he was leant against, feeling a depth of sadness he had not felt in a long time. "It shows the viewer their deepest desire." He told her softly. "Why do you wish to die young one?"
She barely expressed any emotion at the question, no shame, surprise, guilt or sorrow. "Why would anyone wish to live?"

She looked so lonely and frail, wielding the world on her shoulders like him, yet so ill-equipped to do so. He moved to her and knelt so he could look into her eyes.
"What does living mean to you that you dislike it so my dear?"
She bit her lip, glancing back at the mirror, "living means seeing death...too much of them."
"Now now," he smiled reassuringly even as the hairs on the back of his neck pricked, she'd just referred to death as a person, "you're too young to turn goth."
"So many are going to die...You're going to die." She whispered, tears escaping the corners of her eyes as her voice began to waver.
Dumbledore chuckled awkwardly, patting the eleven year old reassuringly, "I'm one hundred and fifty one, that's a little inevitable I'm afraid."
She shook her head softly, a little frustration creeping into her expression, "you don't understand sir. You're going to die in eight years. Professor Snape's going to spell you off the astronomy tower, sir."