Judge: Gitana del Sol
Prompts: Shawl, Mirror
Character: Astoria Greengrass
Word Count: 474
A/N: This is slightly AU(Astoria's mother is a Death Eater)
They line up the bodies of dead Death Eaters in a small room outside the Great Hall. While the lost heroes are being mourned by their families, the Death Eaters are being unmasked. To them it doesn't matter if you are dead, only that you existed and did wrong. You don't know why you are here, your presence will do nothing, help nothing.
They begin removing masks and calling out names, making little ticks on a huge ledger. You hope that maybe, maybe, maybe your mother isn't here, among the dead. And yet, at the same time, inside you've accepted that she is. You notice your mother before they do. You can see the ever-present, purple and green shawl peeking out from under her robes, her blonde hair splayed around her head. You scream and run forward, knowing that it's futile. They grab you before you can even get three feet. Your mouth is covered by a huge hand and you are lifted a few inches in the air. You kick your feet backwards and smile under the hand when they collide with a pair of knees. The hand releases you and you fall to the ground panting for breath. Almost immediately you stagger to your feet and lurch towards Mother. You grab her body, yelling for her to come back, that she can't leave you like this.
Her shawl tears from her body as they pull you away, tears streaming down your face. It isn't the first time you've cried, nor will it be the last, but right now it seems the most important. Every tear will be trivial compared to these. Your mother's shawl clutched to your chest you run out of the room and through the wrecked halls of the place you've lived in for the last six years, screaming in your mind that you need your mother, you need her, you need her, you need her!
A door appears in the wall. A door that looks exactly like the door to your mother's bedroom. You know your mother is in there, sitting on the bed, smiling and humming to herself. You know it. It couldn't be any other way. You dash though the doorway, arms out to hug her, mouth open to greet her. She isn't there. You crumple to the floor, sobbing into the frayed, bloodstained shawl. She will never be there, never! Never again!
When every last tear is gone, when you can cry no more, you stand shakily and look around the room. It is empty except for a large, gold framed mirror. You peer into it and see yourself, not blotchy faced, but smiling. Holding your hand, head thrown back laughing, is your mother. You sit there forever, just staring and smiling slightly, until the image starts to blur and you nod off to sleep.