Broken Mirrors

I began as various metals, malleable and ductile, with a luster envied by far inferior elements. Alloyed, joined with copper and tin, I came into being, made by Tirunelveli experts. My creation took months and I fetched an exceptional price, purchased by a goodly lord. I became part of his home, a grand and cavernous stone fortress as sturdy and solemn as its master.

As generation after generation passed through the home, I noted a common thread amid ever-changing times: many believed that owning me, or one like me, brought luck. My polished, reflective surface was not for bringing luck, though. No part of me, from my surface to my elaborate gilded frame, brought fair fortune. I brought nothing save for what simply was.

Some might have called it truth.

No clouds wafted about my inner surface, revealing shapes or figures to those who gazed upon me. I would neither act as liaison between life and death nor this world and another. At no time would I show spirits of loved ones, angels, or demons to the hopeful or the fearful.

I would show nothing save for what simply was, for that was my purpose.

i. 1957 : The soul could become trapped in the mirror, causing death.

Three girls, pale as ghosts and as different in appearance and temperament as night and day, stared into the mirror. The eldest, Bellatrix, looked like a small warrior, dark and determined as she held the youngest up to my reflective surface. Narcissa was the baby's name, and she was all elegance and etherealness although she was barely more than two years of age. Her blonde hair shone about her plump, rosy face as if she wore a halo, and she leant closer to her reflection, reaching out to touch it as the middle girl shrieked.

"No, Bella, no!" Andromeda screamed. She had something of a speech impediment, which I had heard Healer Avaris assuring Mrs. Black would be gone after the next round of extensive potions treatments. As Andromeda could not correctly pronounce certain letters, her sister's name sounded like "Bewwa!" and Bellatrix threw back her head, laughing.

"No, Bewwa, nooooo," mimicked Bellatrix, a smile far too cruel to be comfortable on the face of a child cutting the expanse of her face from cheek-to-cheek. "What's the matter, Andy?"

One dark brow lifted in a challenge, Bellatrix bent over the marble counter, pushing Narcissa closer still.

"Mudder said she couwd be twapped," Andromeda persisted, tugging on one of her older sister's dark plaits.

Bellatrix's smile gave way to thin lips and narrowed eyes. "Don't," she said savagely, wrenching her sister's hand from the end of her plait, "touch me." Malice glittered in her black irises and Andromeda's small face pinched up.

"Ow!" wailed Andromeda as Bellatrix's fingers applied pressure to her smaller, skinnier fingers.

Narcissa, who had been cooing at her own reflection in my face, twisted in the fold of her oldest sister's arm. Blonde hair bounced up and down as her head tipped toward one sister and then the other. Without so much as a sigh, she turned back to her reflection, one tiny, pudgy hand slapping against my shimmering metal and placing greasy streaks along my clear face.

"Mother," Bellatrix commented archly, flinging Andromeda's hand away, "says lots of things. Most of them are to scare us into not doing things she doesn't want us to do. I do what I want, and you're a ninny who does what she's told."

Andromeda whimpered, wiping her hand against her pinafore. "I'm not a ninny," she whispered.

And Narcissa laughed at her own face in mine.

ii. 1963: During sleep or illness, mirrors were covered so the wandering soul could not become trapped, unable to return to its body.

They stopped whispering when their sister appeared in the doorway, her eyes widening.

Holding the tapestry against her chest, Narcissa looked from Bellatrix to Andromeda to me, then back again guiltily. "I can put it back up," she offered quietly.

Bellatrix sneezed.

Andromeda shook her head. "No, Cissy. It's all right." Crossing to the counter, she rocked back on her heels, head tilting back as she surveyed the expanse of the mirror. "You couldn't do it on your own, anyway."

"Bella could help me," Narcissa said automatically, and Andromeda frowned. It was plain to me that she was bothered that Narcissa would automatically defer to Bellatrix for help rather than her.

"Bella won't help you unless she gets something out of it it," Andromeda informed her little sibling with uncharacteristic asperity.

Bellatrix offered a toothy grin.

"What do you mean by 'she gets something out of it'?" Narcissa's brow furrowed as she set the awkwardly-folded tapestry on the floor.

"I mean she won't do something without getting something in return," explained Andromeda in a tart tone.

Behind Narcissa's back, I saw Bellatrix make a very rude gesture at Andromeda. When Andromeda gasped, Bellatrix laughed, sneezed three times, and then quickly affected a blank stare as Narcissa turned round to see what the fuss was all about.

"Andy! What's wrong with Bella?" Narcissa looked genuinely concerned for her sister, wringing her hands as tears welled up in her big, blue eyes. From behind her, Bellatrix winked, and Andromeda stomped her foot.

"What's wrong with Bella is that she hasn't any soul, any soul at all, and she's a wicked, mean shrew! I don't care if she is ill; she's a horrid, wicked, mean shrew!"Andromeda burst out, her cheeks crimson.

Bursting into tears, Narcissa bent over to retrieve the tapestry. Andromeda watched, mouth agape, as she hauled herself atop the counter, shaking the tapestry out as she stood. The hem of her dressing gown swayed back and forth as she rose to the tips of her toes.

"Don't mess with that tapestry. Cissy, get down from there!" Andromeda warned.

"Cissy, get down from there," Bellatrix mocked before shoving the back of Narcissa's knees roughly, causing her to fall toward the floor. Snatching Narcissa up in her arms at the last moment, Bellatrix pirouetted, cackling. Then she spun and spun and spun, throwing off Andromeda's attempts to halt her and ignoring Narcissa's pleas to stop . She didn't cease until Narcissa was sobbing.

Andromeda crouched down to comfort her younger sister when Bellatrix finally deposited a sobbing Narcissa on the floor.

And Bellatrix laughed.

iii. 1967: After a familial death, mirrors were turned to face the wall or covered to prevent the soul from becoming caught in the mirror, waylaying its travels home to the afterlife.

"Hurry up; I've to get ready too, you know." A voice, self-important and impatient, remarked from somewhere behind me.

"The bath belongs to all of us, Bella," a second voice added gently, as I was turned to face the speakers.

Removing the washcloth from her face, Bellatrix slowly lifted her chin and studied her reflection and those of her sisters in my gleaming, ancient surface.

"Fuck off. I was here first." Wiping the corner of her mouth with the cloth, Bellatrix tipped her head, examining the bags under her eyes. Disinterestedly, she poked at the discolored skin sagging under one, and then did the same with the other. She reached for her wand, presumably to perform some sort of cosmetic charm, but then changed her mind and smoothed down her hair instead.

"Language, Bella," Andromeda said, eyes rolling as she budged up to the counter beside her.

"You're not Mother," Narcissa said automatically, sidling up to Bellatrix's other side. Then she winced and ducked her head, her long hair falling like a curtain around her face, concealing it.

"Obviously not, as Andy's quite alive." Turning, Bellatrix pressed her rear end against the counter's edge and looked at her sisters. "Mother will be piecemeal in no time at all. Wormsmeat. Creepy-crawlies will feed on her flesh and lay their–"

"Shut up!" Andromeda snapped. "Just shut up!"

Choking, Narcissa stood tall, moving between Bellatrix and Andromeda. Were she to lean to the side to gain a clear view of herself in my face, she would have seen herself looking volatile and resplendent, younger but just as calculating as her eldest sister, younger but just as determined and spirited as the middle sister.

"Mother isn't going in the ground; she's going in the mausoleum, you daft harpy," observed Narcissa coldly.

"That's enough, Bellatrix," Andromeda added. "Finish cleaning up. The memorial begins at half-three."

"Stone tomb or terrene slab – whichever you must. Mother will soon be nothing but bones and dust," Bellatrix replied in an awful chant.

"You're horrid," Narcissa snarled.

And, mirthlessly, helplessly, Andromeda laughed.

iv. 1972: Breaking a mirror also broke the soul of the one who broke it.

"Happy Christmas, Cissy," Bellatrix cooed. Picking up the silver-handled brush from beside the sink below me, she handed it to her stunned sister.

"Bella. I wasn't expecting– you've–" Narcissa said faintly, her eyes roaming up and down her sister's form.

Bellatrix was thinner than she had been in years, her cheeks hollowed and her mouth twisted in some horrible sneer. Although her arms were covered from wrist to shoulder, Narcissa somehow knew her sister's skin was no longer pristine and pale beneath the woolen robes.

"Rodolphus is waiting for me. I shan't stay long," announced Bellatrix airliy, adopting the tone of an overbooked socialite, despite being anything but. "We've things to do, but I had to see you, Cissy, before I left."

"Where are you going?" Narcissa set the brush down, unused.

"I could tell you, but then I'd have to kill you." Giving Narcissa an outrageous wink, Bella wielded the brush as though it were a wand, pointing it at Narcissa's chest. "Avada Kedavra," she mouthed, and then threw her hands up skyward. The brush clattered on the tiles, and Bellatrix shook her head in mocking self-reproach. "Ooops!" A beat of silence, and then her cackling, pealing laughter bounced off my face from wall to wall.

"Really. Where are you going?" Placing one hand on her hip, Narcissa looked at her sister sharply.

"Never you mind," Bellatrix spat, sobering. "I came to talk to you, sister dear, about Lucius Malfoy. It's important."

"Lucius Malfoy?" The corners of Narcissa's mouth twitched. "What interest do you have in–"

Just then a breathless voice rang out from the doorway. "Cissy, there you are!"

Andromeda rushed to her sister's side, and then froze as she noticed Bellatrix there as well.

"

Well, well. Look what the kneazle drug in," Bellatrix drawled. "Haven't–"

"Shut up," Andromeda hissed, grabbing hold of Narcissa's arm. "Cissy, I've not got time–"

"What's the matter, Andy? The Ministry wise up and sack your sanctimonious, do-gooding arse?" Bellatrix interjected, thrusting an arm between her sisters to separate them.

"One more word, Bella, and I swear I could have at least six Aurors here who'd be most interested in you and your husband's little–" hissed Andromeda.

"Don't," Bellatrix said evenly, "threaten me, Andromeda. I've no soul, remember? Everything I am and everything I'll ever be is thanks to the greatest–"

"Shut your mouth. Shut it!" Narcissa broke in, pressing her palms to her temples.

"No, don't," Andromeda countered. "Go on, Bella. Keep talking. I'm listening."

"Always the one to live vicariously through others. Tsk, tsk." Feigning disinterest, Bellatrix buffed her nails against the lapel of her robe.

"I'm pregnant," Andromeda said abruptly.

Narcissa blinked. "What?"

"With whom?" Bellatrix sneered. "Last Father told me, he'd banned you from seeing that Muggle. Have you found yourself a good, boring, pureblood at the Ministry? Does he bend you over your desk, over your in-tray, giving it to you among memos and stale scones?"

Ignoring Bellatrix, Andromeda turned to Narcissa, and they clasped their hands together. "Father's blasted me off the tapestry."

"Why would he do that?" Narcissa asked slowly, her shoulders visibly stiffening.

"Because it's the Muggle's child, you stupid arse!" Bellatrix shrieked, thrusting her hand inside her robes. Producing her wand, she brandished it at Andromeda. "I'll do more than blast you off the tapestry, you filthy blood traitor!"

Andromeda backed away, Narcissa standing between her and Bellatrix.

"Bella, no!" Narcissa cried, lunging forward to yank Bellatrix's elbow down as green light began to spill from the tip of her wand. The light narrowly missed Andromeda's shoulder, hitting the centre of my ancient face. The force of the spell's blow blew a chunk of metal out of the middle of my once perfect surface. Small cracks from the pressure began to branch out, the fractures creeping out toward the edge of my face like spiders. Smoke rose in the air, green, grey, and gloomy.

Coughing, Andromeda moved toward the door as Bellatrix dug the tip of her wand into Narcissa's throat.

"Say it," she ordered, applying more pressure as Andromeda fumbled for the door knob.

Narcissa's eyes rounded, watering from the pain and the smoke. Then she said the last thing she would ever say to her sister Andromeda. "A blood traitor is no sister of mine."

"Good," Bellatrix said approvingly, releasing Narcissa from her grasp with a hard shove. "We'll be coming for you and your Muggle some day, Andy, Rodolphus and I. You always were a ninny, weren't you?"

Andromeda said nothing, slamming the door as she left.

And Bellatrix laughed.

v. 1998: Grinding the shattered shards into dust prohibited shattered reflections from being seen again.

Her eldest sister was dead. As she looked into my fractured surface, one she had not looked upon in years, Narcissa saw herself split apart at the seams, just as I had been torn apart by Bellatrix's spell.

Her life was anything but lucky; she had nothing to lose any longer. No true family, no true self. Perhaps Bellatrix had been wrong years before, because Narcissa appeared to feel as if she were the real ninny.

A swish of Narcissa's wand, a flick, and another swish was all it took for amber light to come rushing out of her wand, engulfing me in mist and flame. The light burned into my surface, causing me to see blue and orange. What was left of my face melted in molten streams of agony.

Through the hazy pain of my dying, I realized that I would be no more. In my absence would a gilded frame that simply was.

And Narcissa laughed.