A/N: Hi guys. I got the inspiration for this story from a post off my friend's blog. She's going through a bit of a tough time at the moment, because something happened yesterday which caused her a great deal of pain. This is dedicated to her, in the hope that she will never feel like that again, nor ever feel the way that Severus feels in this fic. She's had enough hardship in her life, and she needs no more. And yet throughout all of it, she's been such a positive influence on my life, and I know she's always going to be there for me. She's an enormous inspiration to me, and is probably the person I admire the most in the world. Thankyou, K. I hope you get your closure this time as well, and that you don't quit. It's not worth it. x
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He was almost too scared to open his eyes. He felt like a little boy again, insignificant, terrified of whatever it was outside of the safety of his mind. Sometimes, when his mind was as broken as his heart, he wondered about opening his soul back up to someone. But then, his resolve would harden, because staying within himself was better than relying on others to heal the cracks within him, because undoubtedly, with enough time, they'd split apart worse than it was originally. The company of his mind, whilst more dreary, was far safer than any company he may experience outside of it.
He sat on the stone floor, legs curled up against his torso; chin nestled on top of his knees, arms around his shins, squeezing them tightly. The room was shadowed, bitter darkness lurking in the corners of the room. There was only one piece of furniture in the room, and he was terrified of it.
The last time he had looked into the Mirror, he had been ripped apart. His heart had torn, his gut had twisted, and he had vowed never to look into the mirror again. And yet, here he was again. Mentally exhausted, eternally tired, and wondering if this was really wise, after what had happened last time.
He had seen himself, holding his heart in his hands. His face had been pale, drained of all blood, dripping instead from his full hands, his life steadily pouring out of himself. The shards had dug into his hands, sending more gems of crimson liquid bubbling up to drip again to the floor. The broken pieces were completely separate, almost drifting apart within his cupped hands, sliding away from each other on the slippery base on which they rested. Everything he had ever known had fallen apart, and he was alone. But there was just one person who hadn't been there to mock him, destroy him. She came up behind him in the mirror, and placed a hand on his shoulder. Watching, Severus couldn't feel it, but he knew what it felt like. It had happened so many times in his otherwise bleak past. It would be soft, gentle, and yet firm. It would be reassuring, calming, confident. It would be her.
She reached out, her hands steady in comparison to his own hands, trembling violently, jerking the fragments in his hands in a crazy dance. She held his wrist, stilling his hands, and guiding them to her own. Delicately, she tipped the broken remnants into her spare hand, and reached a hand up to her hair. Produced a silvery ribbon. It seemed unreal, as it flowed through the air. Her loosed hair falling around her face like curtains, Lily deftly bent her head, and, hands flying through the air, slight blurs, she rearranged the shattered pieces into the form of a lily. Taking the ribbon, she wound it around and around the new heart, until it was coated in a shield of shining silver. She placed it back into his hands, gave him a soft, apologetic smile, and skipped back out of his life. The mirror went blank.
That had been thirteen years ago, on the night of Lily's death. It was a surreal vision, not the usual thing people saw in the mirror. But he didn't mind. It had set off a nostalgic sadness in his heart, growing into an enormous monster, eating him from the inside out. He would never feel his love for her again when he looked at her, for she was forever gone.
But Dumbledore had said the mirror was going. It would be taken to Gringotts the next day, and anyone who wanted a final look, though he didn't recommend it, would have to do so that afternoon. Severus had avoided all people and beasts that day, paranoid that he would be accused of what he was planning that night- to go, to take the mirror with him, to be able to watch Lily whenever and wherever he wanted.
Was he being selfish? He didn't know. But he was starting to doubt himself. Was it really the right thing to do, to take the mirror? Or would it simply haunt him for all eternity, teasing him with what he could never have? Taking a slow, extended breath, he drew the dampened, bitter air into his lungs, and let it out again. A sense of still calmness settled over him like a blanket, suffocating him in its cloying sensation.
Eyes still closed, he worked his way to his feet, feeling the rough stone floor beneath him scraping at his bare skin, not enough to bring blood, but enough to peel tiny scraps of white off his already pale skin, hanging to the rest of him as though desperate to never let him go. He was standing now. His knees were locked, and his left hand was up against the pillar next to him, supporting his weight should he buckle again and fall back to the ground. He bit his lip, rolling it against his teeth nervously. He didn't break the skin, but he bit deeply still, creating tiny, perfect crescent-shaped marks.
Eyes flicking wildly in the darkness beneath his eyelids, his free hand twitched at his side, fiddling with his robes. The terror was rising up inside him again. He tried to push it down, yet it continued pushing up towards his mind, where he would be over taken, and it would explode out. The pressure was building, and to quickly set the tension free, he opened his eyes.
Before he could realise what he had done, an image flashed onto the mirror in front of him.
He was standing there again, hands outstretched, the bloody scraps of his heart again resting in his palms. Not the same, he prayed, already knowing it was too late. Please not the same as last time, I couldn't take it. But it wasn't the same as last time. Severus stepped closer to the mirror, his mind screaming at him to turn back, his heart not listening. The other heart, the one in the mirror, had something on it. A scrap of material. A ragged, grey ribbon, torn and ripped stained with blood, faded from the glowing silver to the colour of dead flesh. Stamped with tiny puckers where the threads had caught on bone. It was all that was holding the pieces of his heart together. In the twelve years since the last time he had looked into the mirror, the shape of the lily had come undone, and it was just puzzle pieces lying in a pool of blood. The tattered remainders of his heart, tied together with a dying ribbon, on the brink of falling apart completely, fraying into oblivion. One single tenuous piece of fabric, holding everything together.
Severus stood mere inches away from the face of the mirror, the dull grey light it emitted reflecting on his face, throwing his sharp cheekbones into high relief, imitating the picture in front of him in his black eyes. He reached out a hand, and laid it on the cool surface of the mirror, whole body tensed and ready for the appearance of Lily, the one person he loved. But she didn't come. The Severus in the mirror merely stood there, swaying, his life's blood draining away.
This wasn't what was supposed to happen. The mirror was supposed to show him what he most desired, not what would hurt him the most- her absence.
Even as he watched, the right half of the ribbon stretched a little, and ripped. It was less than a millimetre, yet it set of an unstoppable chain of events.
The entirety of the ribbon split down the middle, sending tiny particles of silver breaking off from the centre, and floating up into the sky. One floated towards the surface of the mirror, and embedded itself in the glass. A tiny spider web formed around it. Frowning, Severus moved towards it, and rested one finger against it stroking the surface. His eyes widened, and he withdrew his finger rapidly, stumbling backwards. The cracks in the surface of the glass had awakened a terrible fear within him. This wasn't normal. All he could do was watch from a distance as the jagged lines spread over the surface of the mirror, zigzagging everywhere, with no direction or purpose. Accompanied with tiny, almost inaudible cracks and pops, the other fragments of silver embedded themselves in the surface, sending more and more spider webs throughout the glass. It was as though someone had gotten a knife, and carved innumerable patterns into the glass, leaving tiny white traces like scars behind it.
There was a tiny sigh from the mirror, and the pieces slowly began to fall, one by one, landing on the floor before dissolving into a transparent powder and disappearing completely. They fell to the floor silently, and it was all Severus could do to watch, as the mirror version of himself broke apart just like his heart. There was just one piece left, with the mirror-Severus' face staring blankly out. Gazing at it, the real Severus stepped forwards, his heart blackened with terror and hate, and smashed his fist against the last piece, and it cracked into a thousand pieces. A soft wind flew out of the glass, followed by a faint, haunting, mocking laughter. Eventually, all that was left was the dull bronze frame, with words carved into the top, and a silvery ribbon at his feet.
Stooping, he picked up the ribbon, and laid it over one finger. It emitted a tiny glow, illuminating the two inches of darkness surrounding it. His finger tingled.
Severus pocketed the ribbon, and moved from the room.