Disclaimer: Harry Potter and the rest of this world belong to J.K. Rowling. All original characters belong to me. Enjoy!
Mirror of Conceit
"Hermione," Ron moaned, wrapping his left arm around her, "when are you going to finish?" He gave her a tight squeeze in which she then looked up and glared at him. The two end-of-sixth-year Gryffindor's were sitting on a sofa in the common room tower.
"When I'm finished with all my assignments," Hermione quipped, but relaxed and settled into his shoulder. "We have an exam tomorrow. You should be studying."
Ron looked cross-eyed at her and then began playing with her hair. "There are other things right now I would rather be doing," and he leaned in to kiss her forehead.
"Ronald!" Hermione hissed, glancing at Neville and Seamus who were now watching. "Stop that at once! People are starring."
"So," and Ron continued, moving from her forehead to her lips where he kissed them gently. "Isn't this better then studying?" Ron murmured.
"Yes--Ron, this is inappropriate." She pushed him away, smirking at his look of disappointment. "I still have some papers I need to read."
"Fine, but you can only read on one condition."
"Ronald Weasly, I don't take conditions. I do what I please, and right now that's finishing my scheduled studies for the night."
"My condition," he said, once again moving closer to her, "is that you let me stay here till you're done-"
"-But I really must concentrate, and you make that nearly impossible-"
"I stay here till you're done," Ron continued, smiling at his effect over her. "And then latter we can barrow Harry's invisibility cloak and-"
"-Ronald," Hermione blushed; her face concocted in a strange mixture of a smile and frown. "Didn't your Mum teach you any manners?"
"No." Hermione settled comfortably into Ron's shoulder, raising the parchment up to eye level and ignoring the glances from other Gryffindor classmates. Ron grinned in triumph.
"This Story, as found in the Daily Prophet, July 23, 1985--the true tale of how Snow White's Step-mother became obsessed with mirrors--is a selection from:Evil Stepmothers and Fairy Godmothers: How Hogwarts Pupils Popularized the Muggle Fairy World. Written by Madam Hattenfurks, 1763, Scotland. This book is no longer in print, and the only remaining copy can be found at Higgleworms Library in Canada."
Hogwarts 1523 AD
Amara Klinsdale, a homely sixth year Slytherin, was one of the remaining students in the Great Hall. Her friends had long left, but Amara stayed, drinking some pumpkin juice as she watched Marius Eakin at the end of the long table. She was trying to gain the nerve to talk to the seventh year. Every week for the last three months she did this, waiting, trying to find the right moment before becoming afraid and backing down. But today would be different. Today she would go to him and speak.
She sat there, skittish, glancing when she noticed him get up and begin to leave. "Marius!" she shouted as she quickly stood up, her juice spilling across the table. "Ah! Marius! Wait!"
He slowly turned around and eyed her carefully. "What?"
"I was wondering," she stammered, hiding the wet spot on her robe. "I was wondering if you would like to spend the day at Hogsmead with me, the next time we're allowed to visit I mean."
"Who are you?"
"Oh! I'm sorry. I'm a year younger then you, a Slytherin," she said, indicating the patch on her robe. "I guess you've never seen me in the common room?"
"No," and he turned on his heels and walked out.
"Well, that went as planned," she scoffed and sat down. Behind her she heard someone laughing. "What?" she asked, quickly turning around to glance at the perpetrator. "What, Cathair, do you find so amusing?"
"You!" he stammered, clutching his side before calming down. "I can't believe you actually thought you could get him to go to Hogsmead with you."
"And why would that be such a surprise?"
"Because you are the last person he would be interested in. He has his eye on Grania, the most beautiful witch here in Hogwarts, as you well know."
"I've noticed him watching her, but that still doesn't mean I can't ask."
"No is doesn't," he said, softening up, "but you are not Marius material."
"And why not? My wizarding line is just as long, and my family is just as rich as Grania's, if not richer."
"You may have that, but there is one thing she has that you don't."
"And what is that?"
"Beauty." Cathair stood up and left the great hall.
"Beauty?" Amara whispered, "He wouldn't go out with me because I'm not beautiful?" She choked back a sob and ran out of the Great Hall, down a long corridor, and into a bathroom where she stared at her reflection. She touched her short, thin hair, and her chubby, spotted face. When she glanced down she saw her awkward figure. And while she did this she pictured Grania with her long blond hair and perfect completion. "Why?" she yelled, slamming her hand against the mirror, causing it to shatter and her hand to bleed. "Why can't he love me?" She paused, starring at her reflection. "Why do I have to be this way?"
Amara stormed out of the bathroom without checking the time, forgetting her class, forgetting her hand, and wondering down the halls. She stopped caring. She stopped hoping. She just walked aimlessly around until she found herself in a room. For a moment she wondered where she was, but before she began to analyze the situation, she began relishing at the thought of being lost and never being found again.
The room she found herself in had no windows, and the only light source was coming from floating candles that lit when she walked further in. Amara brought up her wand, shutting the door with a flick, and walked carefully foreword. As the room continued to brighten, she noticed a tall dusty mirror sitting in the corner. Something about the mirror spoke to her, and she felt as if hands were pulling her closer. She brought up her clean left hand to wipe off a clear spot to see, but the filthiness of the mirror was overwhelming. Growing frustrated Amara looked around and found white linen covering a sofa, and with that she proceeded to wipe the mirror clean. When she finished she gasped and stood back.
What she saw astounded her, for in the mirror was the most beautiful women she had ever beheld. "Who?" Amara began to ask, walking foreword and noticing the women doing the same. "Are you trapped . . .?" but as she said this the women seemed to be asking the same. Amara walked back, did a twirl, and watched as the women's robe fell in sink with her own. "That can't be me," Amara said, stepping foreword and controlling the image to test her theory. "You're so much older then me--I'll never look that way." Amara smiled, and her reflection did the same, showing teeth that were white and perfect set between lips that were full, luscious, and tempting. "I'm gorgeous," Amara giggled, admiring the way this enhanced the women's looks even more.
Amara stood there, dancing, playing, and talking to her reflection, enjoying all she saw and experienced. What she saw next captured her even deeper. Behind the women a Man opened and closed the door, walking up to her and wrapping his arms around her, enclosing her in a sensual embrace. Amara looked behind her, seeing nothing, and wishing even more that it was real. In the mirror Amara saw the Man brake from the kiss and look at her, briefly, before looking hungrily at the women and delving in again to start where he left off.
"I see you've found the Mirror of Errised," a voice said behind her, and Amara jumped and turned around.
"Professor Mahoney, what are you doing here?" Amara asked, looking at the tall female she knew so well, and seeing the Ravenclaw scarf she was never seen without, even in the summer.
"You never came to potions and I was worried. You never miss a lecture." Professor Mahoney walked foreword, putting her arm around Amara and gazing in the mirror. "I see you have a crush on Marius."
"What? Oh!" Amara looked in the mirror and saw her reflection blush. "That's Marius, is it? He turned out even better then I--wait, you can see that?"
"I can see many things, Amara, things most people cannot, but I must tell you this mirror is dangerous. It's not real."
"Of course it's real. Look at it!"
"This mirror is a work of magic, bewitched like many things in this castle, but it's only showing you what you want to see. It's not the future."
"It can be if I want it to be."
"Wait here, I'll be back." Professor Mahoney left quickly, but her command was unnecessary. Amara had no intention of ever leaving. How long she was there, she had no idea, but time no longer mattered to her.
"She's been in here for five hours, you really must do something about this," Amara heard Professor Mahoney say, but she never took her eyes off her reflection.
"I will take care of it, you needn't worry," this time she heard Professor Berye, Head of Slytherine and Master of Transfiguration. She knew she needed to take notice of him, but she couldn't pull her gaze away from the mirror.
"But Poseidon, you know very well what this mirror can do. Remember Heilyn? St. Mungo's Hospital still hasn't released him after his little experiment eight years ago, when he tried to get in the mirror."
"I remember the incident perfectly."
"But I'm worried that Amara will-"
"Ethna!" Professor Poseidon Berye said. "She is my responsibility, not yours. I know what I'm doing."
"That's what you said about Heilyn."
"Leave!" Poseidon Berye looked pointedly at her, and knowing she could do no more, Ethna Mahoney exited the room. "Now Amara, what is it you've found?"
"Professor?" Amara said, finally shifting her eyes to briefly glace at him. "Look at me. I'm beautiful."
"Are you now?" he walked up to the mirror, looking it over and smiled at his own reflection. "This really is a wonderful use of magic. Now," he said, turning to look at her, "What did Ethna tell you about this mirror?"
"That it only shows me what I want. This isn't real, and it never can be real." She watched hungrily as Marius pulled her reflection even closer.
"She's lying, you know."
"Lying?" Amara asked, growing so excited that she stopped looking at the mirror. "Lying how?"
"You want to be beautiful, right? That is your greatest desire." He looked over Amara's misshapen form, "And with magic you can be. I have a few books in my office you may find particularly interesting."
"Books?" Amara smiled, looking at her reflection with possessed eyes. "What kind of books?"
"They are books that hold potions for beauty. Books that can teach you how to venture into a Mans mind to learn what he lusts. Books that can show you ways to lure whomever you wish to prey."
"You'll let me use these books?" Amara asked.
"I will, but only if you promise to leave this room and never return again."
Amara looked at her reflection one last time, the possession in her eyes slowly dyeing before being replaced with determination. "I promise," she said, smiling crookedly and turning to fully face Poseidon Berye. He looked her over, noticing her cut hand for the first time. Berye decided not to say a word and quickly healed Amara's wound.
"You must not speak a word of this to no one," Poseidon said, taking his hand and placing it on her back to guide her out of the room. He took one last longing look into the mirror before shutting the door. "And you must do all that I say. Your transformation must be kept slow so that it doesn't raise suspicion."
"I understand."
"And you must be especially careful around professor Mahoney, as she would discover first what you are doing."
Amara nodded her head and they both went to his office to begin their plan. From thence forth Amara kept her promise to never return to the Mirror of Errised, but she never forgot what she saw. The more beautiful Amara became, the more she was sought after. Even Marius, a few years after her finished transformation, searched for Amara and tried, unsuccessfully, to ask for Amara's hand in marriage. But she had forgotten the handsome boy and decided royalty matched her thirst.
And still she thought of that mirror. She knew that she could never look into it again, so Amara began designing and bewitching other mirrors. The Mirror of Oupura was her creation; this mirror holding the capacity to transport anyone wherever they wished. The Mirror of Curique, which transcended worlds and dimensions. And, finally, Amara's most famous mirror of all: The Mirror of Militrial. From this mirror Amara whispered her famous words, "Mirror, mirror on the wall. Who's the fairest of them all?"
"Are you finished?" Ron asked, glancing at the parchment. Hermione nodded thoughtfully as she placed the story on top of a pile of books. She looked around the room and noticed the dim glow of the fire and the fact that they were the only ones left. "I let you read. Were you able to concentrate?" She nodded again, still in thought, and looked at Ron. "So that means I get my condition!" Ron smiled, jumped off the couch, and ran to his dormitory.
"What are you doing?" Hermione asked.
"Getting Harry's cloak," Ron said as he entered his dorm, grabbed the cloak without trouble, and came back into the common room. By this time Hermione was off the couch with a pile of books in her hands. "What are you doing?" Ron asked, frowning.
"Going to bed," she said while carefully balancing the books so she could kiss Ron on the cheek, "which is what you should be doing. We need to get enough sleep for the exam tomorrow."
Ron looked at the cloak before looking at her retreating figure. "What about the condition?"
Hermione turned to look at him, pausing to put down her books. She smirked while folding her arms. "Ronald, if you remember correctly, I never agreed to anything. But," she continued, wanting to maintain the upper hand, "since you were good and let me finish without too much trouble, I am willing to listen to what you propose."
"I was thinking," Ron said, shifting his footing, "We can use Harry's cloak to get to the room of requirements and, you know, have a little fun."
"And Harry is okay about us using his cloak?"
"He didn't seem to mind," Ron said, shrugging. "Though I don't think he really heard me." Ron winced slightly, "Ginny has him in a daze."
"All right then," Hermione said as she smiled and walked up to him, giving him a quick kiss. "Room of requirements you say?" Hermione looked thoughtful and took the cloak out of Ron's hands. "Fun?" She took the cloak and began wrapping herself with it. "Let's go."
Ron's face brightened like a boy surrounded by Chocolate Frogs and Fizzing Whizbees on Halloween. He joined Hermione under the cloak and they both snuck carefully out of the portrait and into the night.
The End