AN: Hey, everyone! This is the one idea I've been hit with and I just had to put it down. It's a bit like a headcanon plus. A little idea with a little corresponding story. Well, it had a corresponding story. Then it went and deleted the thing. I hope you like the rewritten version.

I recently read a really great story or two about Sanguini, who is pretty much a convenient extra in the books. There are only about ten stories written with him as a character, but I read most and I couldn't shake it. So this popped into my head.

Characters, the Mirror of Erised, and the setting all belong to JK Rowling, not moi.

Enjoy, bros!

~Kiro

Do you know where people got the idea that vampires do not have reflections? No, I can't imagine that you would. It is something that you would have to be very close with a vampire to know, and that is rare even within our ranks, much less cross-species.

See, the actual myth is based in truth. The thing is, it isn't true of all mirrors. The reflections in the standard bathroom mirror or a reflection in water would show up just the same as a normal human's. The idea of the myth came from a different, far more famous mirror. The Mirror of Erised.

If you aren't familiar with the Mirror of Erised, it shows you your deepest desire. The one thing which you most want, which you most wish to happen, will be shown in its reflection. Theoretically, the happiest man in the world would look in the mirror and see nothing different. So far that has not happened even once in the history of mankind.

You have to understand some things about vampires, as well, in order to comprehend what I am telling you. We live, eternally, as monsters. We have to feed on the pain and life of other creatures in order to survive. Some of us respond to this by becoming insane, monsters in our own rights, killing and maiming things for sadistic pleasure. Others respond by trying to live their lives as normally as they possibly can, pretending they are human and hiding their nature like a shameful secret. Then, there are those who slip into deep apathy or depression. I find that sometimes it is hard to distinguish which type is worse.

But the way that we cope doesn't matter, in the end. Whether we drown in self-hatred or sorrow, insanity or shame, every single one of us has the same desire. At least, all of those who have had the opportunity of looking into the Mirror of Erised did.

Every vampire that has stood before the Mirror of Erised, of which there have only been five recorded, has looked into it and seen a world without them in it. In some cases, those of famous warrior Valkyrie Severin and scholar Ezli Moran, they simply saw the same room as they were standing in, but with empty space in their place. Warrior king Serkan the Sly saw a bloody field of nothing but pools of blood when he captured the Mirror in battle. Professor Sangria Vine of Oxford Univesity reported to have seen nothing but rows upon rows of books, knowledge open for all of the rest of the world to enjoy. King Rafa of Izrael saw nothing but spices and riches for his people, and a splendid city spread out from the mirror.

Anyway, the point is not that these vampires were famously, selfishly selfless. The point is that not a single one of them saw themselves in this world as well. This news was spread throughout the world, repeated so many times that its true meaning was lost in a silly, irrational superstition. Because we are not, in fact, reflection-less monsters, though monsters we may be if one considers being suicidal a monstrous thing. We are a lost people, not all romantic, not all vicious, merely yet another race whom you share your world with. A society with a death wish, but a diverse one still.

I stared blankly into the Mirror of Erised, expressionless in the cold stone room.

Footsteps approached and I turned away, to the edge of the gilt frame and out of the Mirror's range. My eyes flickered to the approaching figure and the footsteps halted a foot away.

"Brooding again, Sanguini?"

I nodded mockingly and turned back to the full-length enchanted glass. The reflection had changed to a crowd of souls long dead, smiling and goofing around with one another. They curled around the watcher's figure as if a hug long awaited, cheerful and content. I picked out a red-headed, green-eyed woman and a man with unruly black hair and glasses speaking with two mustached men. There were others I didn't recognize, one with a magical eye that rolled about in its artificial socket, another hulking figure barely able to stand straight in the room who was stroking a tiny sparking dragon. Others I recognized from my own long lifetime, a man lurking behind the red-haired woman before she pulled him into the conversation. His lank black hair hung in waves about a sharp face, matching his conservative, billowing black robes.

I felt an arm curl around my waist and draw me into the picture. The scene changed, now much less crowded, if just as cheerful. Directly in front of the mirror two tiny children played, tugging on one another's hair and bickering over toys. To the right of our figures' feet laid a messy black-haired dog, panting happily and occasionally barking at the toddlers. Behind our reflections was a couch filled with people once again. The red-haired woman and the spectacled man were back. The man had one arm around the woman as he chatted animatedly to the other couple on the couch, a man with a scarred face and mustache who held a small child on one arm and a pink-haired woman on the other. Near them was another man, this one from my past. He leaned casually against one arm of the leather furniture, appearing elegant even in such a casual setting. His ageless face creased in amusement as he swirled dark red liquid about a wine glass.

I turned my attention back to the couple in front of the mirror. There I was, and next to me a casually dressed man had slung his arm around my waist. He wore worn blue jeans and an old t-shirt soft from wear. He would have looked slovenly, but that the clothes were clean. The only thing that adorned his figure was a white gold snake biting its tail curled around his left ring finger, as well as his black bifocals. Messy black hair the same as the man's behind him flopped over his forehead, highlighting his brilliant green eyes magnified by rectangular glasses. He winked at me in the mirror, and I turn to my own reflection.

My slick black hair was pulled back into a pony tail, two locks framing my face outside of their confines. My pale skin seemed white against the billowing red silk of my shirt, pulled taught over not-quite-so-skeletal features. It gathered to fit into a black waistcoat of sharp, slightly antique, cut. A white gold chain holding a vial of red glinted at my throat, and my left long-fingered hand bore a ring of white good that matched the one on my companion's left ring finger. Black trousers fell down my legs in perfect creases to meet with shiny black boots on the floor. The boots were a sharp contrast to the bare feet of the man next to me, dirty on the stone floor and peeking out from the frayed edges of his blue jeans. Seeing where my gaze lead, he wiggled his long, pale toes at me. I drew my eyes back up from the floor.

I turned to the real version of the man in the mirror, alone with me in an empty stone room. His eyes twinkled before his glasses as he met my gaze, a warm smile growing on his lips.

"Still believe that myth about vampires not having reflections?"

I smirk, my eyes flickering within my skeletal features.

"Never again, my love."