For the Mirror of Erised competition on HPFC

My character is Vincent Crabbe

I don't own anything

And if this fic sounds as if someone stupid has written it, it's supposed to be Crabbe narrating so…

*set after Voldemort has taken over Hogwarts… ooops, I mean 'You Know Who'*

There's this piece of crap that's been littering a back room in the castle for God know's how long. I've only just found it because I'm looking for a new location to torture the 1st Years who don't do as they're told.

This new set up of Hogwarts is pretty damned class; there's no more Muggle loving, no more Mudbloods, and we get to practise Dark magic on the Gryffindor brats that try and dispute our set up.

We're in control here and we're never letting go.

I don't know what it is though, this thing. It looks huge from the back, a huge block of some really weirdly carved stone that I have never seen before. It seems to be facing the wrong way, since nothing happens when I tap the back of it, so I begin to turn it very slowly. It's bloody heavy, I can tell you that right now!

As it turns to face me, I realise that it's some sort of mirror – it's shiny and sort of silver in colour, reflecting a picture back at me. It doesn't seem to be what's in the room right now, though, since I see people who I know aren't around here anymore – Potter ran off with the Weasel and Mudblood months ago now, so I know they're not getting killed in the background… and, last time I checked, I'm not outside.

There's me at the forefront of the picture that seems to be like one of the moving portraits; I'm standing strong and proud, cursing anything that comes my way. A Mudblood is in the background (I know this since I yell that at it) and I send a wave of Fiendfyre at it, obliterating it instantly.

Everyone seems to be bowing down to me, not the Dark Lord, whose mark I currently wear upon a charm around my neck. I have yet to be granted the chance to have it inked permanently upon my left forearm, which is a great shame, yet I don't need one here: everyone seems to honour me more than him.

I seem to be yelling something to someone in the background and see Draco Malfoy getting carted off to be with the now dead 'Boy Who Lived' -yeah, he lived a real long time, longer than I have, not! I smile as I look at this, seeing the boy who has thought he could lord it over the rest of us just because of who his father is getting the same fate as the most disgusting scumbag to have graced this earth in years.

I haven't a clue what this projection is here, but I can only hope that it's the future for me: I seem stronger, taller, older – everything that would need to be my physical appearance in a couple of years time.

"Crabbe, what on earth are you doing?" Malfoy interrupts my watching him getting killed, as he stands by the door. Dammit; why does he have to ruin everything? I'm going to get my own back on him one day, mark my words.

"Looking for a new room for the detentions," I say slowly, tearing my eyes from my future (hopefully) to look at him with disdain.

"Don't bother with that; I found one," he's dismissive of me, which makes me want to curse him right here, right now, to prove I'm better than him.

But I clench my fists and turn away, hoping that this will mean the mirror brings this prophecy (or whatever it is) to life.

So, I thought it wouldn't matter if Crabbe didn't know it was the Mirror of Erised – he's thick, after all!

Please don't fav without reviewing!

Vicky xx