Erised
Disclaimer: All J.K. Rowling's, not mine. I'm just borrowing things for a while.
'There is a room in the castle, constantly changing to fit the needs of the occupant, or so a friend told me. It used to be a secret until about the middle of last year when Harry Potter told pretty much the whole school about it. Then everyone started to visit it, most of them pretty regularly, telling tales of great books or toys to be found in there. It's like a drug to them, I'm sure, as they had to go otherwise they got all moody and upset. I hadn't been yet, never got round to it at that point, although the few who spoke to me said I should try it.
The Room of Requirement. I saw why it's called that, it gave you what you required and you required what it gave. Although I hardly found it fair when people claim to have found completed essays that they can simply photocharm and hand in. The teachers claimed it was harmless, just a bit of fun, and they always knew who'd cheated by using the room; I suspected it they used it themselves to plan their lessons.
In the end I gave in, peer pressure always got to me, besides I was honestly curious to see what I'd find in there. I sincerely doubted that the Room could conjure up people and give me the social life I'd always longed for but had never been able to achieve. Nor did I expect it would provide me with fabulous good looks and a winning personality, people would no doubt notice the change and demand that things go back to the way they were.
It was a Monday when I went, I remember that clearly as there was a Quidditch match on and the whole school was empty except for me near enough. I'd always hated the matches, not so much for the sport as for the noise and the crowding. After wandering around for what seemed like hours, my sense of direction was always crapped up, I found what I thought to be the right room, even if it seemed to be a little closer to the Transfiguration corridor than I originally thought. I opened up the door.
There was a chair. There was a mirror. And that was all. So apparently all I needed was for me do take a good long look at myself, what could it hurt…'
There is a room in a hospital where a girl sits facing a mirror into which the nurses which treat her dare not look. She no longer recognises reality for what it is, no longer acknowledging the nurses cleaning her, feeding her. The only truth for her lies straight in front of her sleep-deprived eyes; days just fly away for her as time has no meaning to her any more. She's happy though, everything her psyche needs is in that room, in fact she could be considered far better off mentally than most people, the fact that her body's slowly wasting away is a minor point compared to that. There's nothing much they can do about it, any attempt to get her away from the mirror leads to bouts of vicious attacks on both her and the staff and suicidal depression. They dare not risk trying that again.
She has her heart's desire though, and that's enough for her.