My hands shook as I ran them over my pale blue school uniform. The silk felt cool against my fingers, and I bit my trembling lip.

Two weeks ago, before my 5th year at Beauxbatons Academy of Magic, my mother and father decided to move north, to England.

Fight after fight ensued, tear after tear shed, and foot after foot was put down. They had reasons beyond my comprehension for relocating. They had things they needed to tend to. They knew people in England. Their time in France was over and so was mine.

There was no changing their minds, and my heart was broken. I had been at Beauxbatons my entire magical career; I knew nothing other than proper etiquette, top notch education, and high class witches and wizards. Not to mention my friends.

They were nothing short of sympathetic and saddened when I broke the news. I received letters, candies, and gifts from various people—ones I wasn't that familiar with. It was touching, really—but it did not help my depressed state of mind.

But, alas, moving was inevitable. No matter how bitter the pill, I was being forced to swallow.

—

"Hogwarts."

I stared blankly at my parents as the stood in front of me.

I was sitting on a stiff, red, leather arm chair in my father's office. It was two days until departure and they had a few things to "fill me in on."

My mother smiled and my father patted my shoulder, a failed attempt to comfort me. I knitted my brow, put my eyes on my lap, and smoothed out my skirt, mulling over the fact that I was being forced to attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardy.

"Mother, you do realize that Hogwarts is full of psychos, right?" I picked a bit of fuzz from my skirt and looked up at her; she was not amused.

"Last year's incident was—"

"None of our concern, Isabel. Unfortunate, yes, but—" my father cut in, only to be interrupted.

"This family was not personally—"

"Affected." they both finished together. I stared at them awkwardly. Their ability to do that was creepy. Sometimes I wondered if they rehearsed these conversations, or could read one another's mind.

"Mother, Father, I know Fluer. How do you think she'll feel when I'm sending owls from the school that almost killed her and her sister?"

"Then I suppose you won't be sending her any owls." Mother said tartly.

"These people..this school, they've started all kinds of insane rumors about You-Know-Who coming back—"

I felt desperate even though I knew it was too late to change their mind. My father's face grew grim and held his hand up to stop me. I instantly shut my mouth.

"Isabel Yvonne Valentine. I forbid you from saying another word about this. Our minds have been made up for almost a year; you will be spending the rest of your educational career at Hogwarts. It's—"

"Final." my parents firmly stated.

"Now, your things are almost packed, yes?" Mother ran her pale hand through my dark hair. I bit my lip and nodded, my eyes back on my lap. She lifted my chin up with her finger and looked me in the eyes.

"It's going to be alright, dearest." she cooed. I suppose it was the motherly comfort all mothers possessed, but I instantly felt comfort spread through my body. My parents smiled at me.

I forced myself to weakly smile back.

—

Two days later, I was standing in front of a large, brown stone apartment building in London.

To mourn the occasion, I had on a black dress underneath a black pea coat. My hair was curled and tied out of my face with a black silk ribbon. To hide my legs, I wore black lace panty hose; on my feet, black high heels.

I would have also had a black umbrella if I had known it would be raining.

I stared up at the building. It was luxurious, of course; my family had more money than they could ever count. Valentines were one of France's oldest pure blood families. We were around even before Merlin was—naturally we had millions stashed away somewhere. Not to sound pretentious or anything. I spend money, and I have things, but I'm not one to brag or become arrogant about it.

After a moment of observing the outside, I heard my mother call for me from the inside. I took a breath and walked up the front stairs and opened the polished wooden door.

If the outside was large, the inside was larger. Magically, of course. From the outside, the apartment seemed the usual wealthy size, but the inside seemed to consume the entire building.

The floors were dark cherry wood with black and royal blue rugs; the walls were royal blue trimmed with black. The high ceilings donned glittering chandeliers. to my right, a winding stair case wound endlessly, it seemed, to an unknown number of upper levels. On my left and to the front of me were hall ways leading deeper into the apartment.

I, again, heard my mother call for me. Her voice seemed to be coming from my left, so I followed the hall. Many different rooms branched off, but they were either empty, or their doors were closed.

As I was walking, I noticed a long mirror stretching horizontally down the wall. I stopped and looked at myself—but I was not alone.

Several versions of myself were waving merrily at me. Each version had on a different color; red, blue, green..and in the middle, I found myself, wearing all black.

My reflection was blankly staring back at me, seemingly annoyed with my other cheerful selves. My curls were damp, but intact. My dark blue eyes were dull with boredom, and my lips pink with lipstick. By the grace of god, though, my eye make-up had not smeared in the rain.

I reached for my wand, and, as I touched it, I felt my fingers grow warm and tingly. My reflection's face brightened a bit as I pulled my wand out and pointed it at my wet hair. I stared at it for a moment; my wand, unlike most, was white. It was completely smooth, except at the end where a star was carved at the base. It was 11 inches with the hair of a pure Veela at it's core.

I muttered a simple spell under my breath, and my curls grew dry and silky once again. Who cares about that under age law? Father had the right connections and I was able to use small, simple spells outside of school.

My other colorful reflections clapped and cheered as my own bleak one smiled modestly. I turned away from the mirror and my other selves vanished.

Finally, in a bright room half way down the hall, I found my parents..and company. Thank god I fixed my hair.

The room was the exact twin of my father's office back home. A large desk in front of a large window, two red arm chairs facing the desk; on the opposite side of the room, on the wall closest and to the left of the door, a long red, more comfortable looking couch and a coffee table. Opposite of the couch, on the other side of the table, two more red arm chairs.

In the arm chairs, my mother and father sat, holding tea cups and beaming at me. On the couch, a family of three very blonde people.

The mother was quite lovely. She had pale skin, icy eyes, and silky, blonde hair. Her appearance almost mirrored my mother's exactly, though my mother had dark brown locks. She smiled politely as she looked me over.

The father's pointed, white face matched his straight, long blonde hair. His piercing eyes glowed as they stared at me. He was holding a black walking stick with the head of a silver snake at the end.

Then, the son. The boy looked almost exactly like his father, only he had shorter hair and steely gray eyes. He was handsome—almost perfect looking, just like his parents. I stared at me with a bored expression that almost offended me.

"Darrrrrling!" my mother gushed as she rose to pull me into the room. "We have some very special guests!" she put her arm around me and cheerfully wove her hand towards the family. My father smiled up at us and leaned back in his chair. The two adults across from me stood, and, after an irritated smack to the back of his head delivered by his father, so did the boy. Remembering the way the boy looked at me a minute ago, I tried not to laugh.

"Isabel, the Malfoys." my father said cooly, proudly. I automatically held out my hand, just like every other time I met a friend of my parents.

shook it with a delighted smile. "It is so nice to meet you, Isabel. I'm Narcissa." she said in a soft, almost liquid like voice.

I smiled back, and took my hand to his lips. "At last, dear Isabel. Lucius. I've heard so much about you." his voice matched his wife's, only a bit colder. My smile got a bit harder to hold.

In between his two parents, the boy almost seem to glare at me. I offered my hand, but he merely nodded acknowledgement. "Draco." he grunted. His parents exchanged looks of irritation.

There was an awkward silence as we all, except my father, stood, waiting on each other to further break the ice.

"So, Isabel, have you all of your school supplies in order? School is only four days away." Narcissa offered. The air around us relaxed and I nodded.

"Yes, I have. Our house elves took care of it before we arrived today. As a matter of fact, I'd better go and make sure everything has been unpacked properly. It was nice to meet you," I glanced at Draco coolly, "all. Now if you'll excuse me." I wormed my way out from under my mother's arm, and as I turned to leave, Lucius spoke up.

"Why, Isabel. Why don't you let our Draco here escort you to your room? I'm sure you're quite curious about Hogwarts and it's…rules. Perhaps he can fill you in."

I stopped in the door way, but didn't turn around.

"But, Father—" Draco began to protest, but a threatening look from his father shut him up.

"Oh, Lucius! What a wonderful idea!" my mother exclaimed. I turned around and saw my father was on his feet, smiling.

"Yes, I agree. Your room is on the second level. It's at the very end of the hall, dear." he put his arm around my mother's waist and they looked at me expectantly.

Draco and I looked to each other. His eyes burned into mine with annoyance and anger. Whatever this kid's problem was, I really didn't want anything to do with him, but we were stuck. I sighed and put a small smile on my face—it was enough to please our parents and Lucius pushed Draco forward. He stumbled over his mother and awkwardly regained his composure before pushing past me.

I curtsied with a smile to the Malfoys and followed their son down the hall.

—

As we walked in silence, I noticed the mirror on the wall. Being ahead of me, Draco was already being reflected—many colorfully dressed versions of him were smiling and waving. His own also black reflection was sneering at the others..only, the sneer seemed more jealous than angry. I stopped for a moment and watched as the other Dracos happily fooled around and laughed together. The look on the black one's face was almost..lonely.

"What are you waiting on, Valentine? C'mon." I snapped out of my trance and looked ahead of me. Draco had stopped and was glaring at me from several feet away—he was almost out of the mirror's view.

"Haven't you noticed the mirror?" I asked. I took a few steps and looked into it.

My rainbow twins appeared in bright colors and greeted Draco's colored selves excitedly. Then, they began to dance.

"Bloody hell." he muttered under his breath, annoyed with my amusement.

I glanced at him, then back to the mirror. I noticed our black selves staring at the colorful ones. From each far end of the mirror, our reflections stared at each other with an empty look..forlorn, perhaps. They watched as their duplicates danced and laughed with a carefree delight. And then, Draco's reflections vanished.

I looked down the hall and saw him reach the foyer and watched him climb the winding stairs.

Back in the mirror, I saw all of my reflections, colorful and black, stare after him sadly.