The Mirror Has Two Faces
I looked into the Mirror of Erised once.
It was years and years ago, when I was a seventh year. That was
before Mirune died.
Well - not physically. I still visit her empty shell of a body
and whichever personality
happens to inhabit her at the moment. But that's not she.
Every Wednesday.
I had stumbled into the room accidentally, and when I mustered the courage
to glance
into the dusty glass, I saw my own reflection, and nothing more.
The girl in the mirror
smiled as I smiled self-consciously at her, feeling foolish for believing
the far-fetched
rumours of the Mirror of Erised.
I studied my reflection. Long black hair, pulled back into a tight
bun - at the time, I had
thought that it made me appear more grown-up. Pale face, stick-thin
form glad in
traditional black Hogwarts' robes. Eyes, steel grey.
But they weren't. The eyes in the mirror were almost a pale violet.
Suddenly I realized who
I was seeing - not myself, but Mirune. She smiled joyfully at
me and waved cheerfully. She
looked so...happy.
She never smiles, now. Or when she does, it's loud, gaudy, and false. Mei and Babble.
I can't bare to look into her eyes anymore. That once-lovely,
silvery violet is always shifting and
raging as the emotions behind it twist. I can't find my
sister in that sea of lavender and tears. I
haven't tried, for years now. I love Mirune, not Rue, or Mei,
or Babble, or She-Devil. I hate them.
They kidnapped the loving woman that once she was and tried to replace
her, each with its own
extreme. They killed her.
The Mirror of Erised showed me what I couldn't understand until she
died. All I need is she. All I
want is for her to be my sister again, well and happy.
But it's too late.
I muse over that night often. I wonder what would have seen in
that Mirror had Mirune never
become ill. I'll never know, I suppose.
No one knows what I saw. I've never told anyone that the Mirror
has two faces.