Disclaimer: I don't own them, JK does, I'm just playing in the world.
START:
He stalked through the halls, favoring his one good leg, trying to ignore the pain coursing through the other. He was doing his familiar nighttime prowl, looking for anyone, and anything out of the ordinary. Finally, he gave in to the pain, and slipped silently and unnoticed into a classroom he knew was unused. He sat down on top of one row of desks that had been pushed backwards, and propped his leg up next to him.
He could see the blood staining through the bandages. It had been a week, the wounds should have started to heal, but without the aid of magic, they were healing incredibly slowly. He ripped off a piece from the edge of his robes and gently pressed it to the bandage that the blood was coming through. He'd have to stop by Filch's office again, at least the man had some decent bandages. He removed a vial from his pocket, and gently poured the contents of the healing potion over the wounds, soothing them, although not by much.
It was then the glimmer of gold in the corner caught his eye. There was a large gold trimmed floor length mirror, half hidden in the darkness, standing there. He moved the desk he was sitting on closer, and sat down again, gently replacing the bandages on his leg. The bleeding had stopped, but they still hurt quite a lot. He turned to look in the mirror, and he saw the engraving around the gold border. "Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on woshi." He stared at it for a long minute, puzzled by what it read.
It wasn't a language he recognized, nor anything close to one. But the longer he stared at it, he realized what it said. So this was the infamous mirror of Erised, supposed to show you what you felt in the deepest corners of your heart, even if you didn't realize it. This was the mirror that had drove men insane with wondering what their life could have been, this was the mirror that people had spent their lives staring into, seeing their lives, as they wished they would be.
But he scowled as he looked into the mirror. All he saw was a reflection of himself, the same greasy black hair falling loosely around his face, the same large hook nose, the same billowing black robes. The face in the mirror held the same scowl he knew he had on his own face. No, this wasn't the mirror of Erised, this mirror was just showing him, this mirror was just proving to him that he was but a shadow of a man.
As he turned to leave, however, the image in the mirror changed. Instantly, his attention was focused on the glass again. The face in the mirror was still undoubtedly his, but he-it-had changed. He stared at the reflection in the mirror. Rather than the long black robes he wore, the man in the mirror was wearing emerald green, and short sleeved robes. He never wore short sleeves in life, to hide the ugly mark that reminded him of his past life, of wrong choices that he had made.
The reflection in the mirror grinned out at him, as if it was teasing him. The face in the mirror still had the same long black hair, only it was neatly brushed and not nearly as greasy as it currently was. The face was unlined like his was, instead it was still young and fresh, like he should look. The reflection thrust out his left arm, unmarred by the mark that repulsed him, unblemished, still fresh. The skin rather than being sallow and pale had a healthy, almost tan, glow.
He watched as a young woman appeared out of the shadows, from the corner of the mirror, and came to stand next to his reflection. She had fiery red hair, and brilliant green eyes, green eyes that he found himself forced to look into too many times to count. She came and stood next to his reflection, and he watched as the man in the mirror wrapped his arm around the girl, holding her close, and the girl did the same, making it very obvious that the two were in love.
He couldn't help himself, he reached out to cup the pale fragile skin of the girl before him, and she slowly changed, slowly morphed. No longer was it the girl he had wanted so many years ago, instead it was another girl, one that he didn't recognize. Again, he saw himself as he was in the mirror, the evil greasy git of a potions master, but the girl stood next to him, unflinching, The mirror image of himself still had his arm around her, and she was still close to the image.
The long black robes were back, and he wanted to know how anyone could stand to be that close to him. But yet the girl seemed to be truly happy around him. She had a head of mahagony curls, cascading down her back, and her hair was frizzy and bushy, sticking out at odd angles, but at the same time, it seemed to make her look good, the woman next to him in the mirror was tantalizingly beautiful. He looked into the woman's chestnut eyes, and he saw the love that she had, and it was all for his mirror image.
Reluctantly, he reached out again, to touch the mirror, cursing himself when he felt only glass. The girl in the mirror looked so familiar to him, he wanted to know who she was, he wanted to see her, he wanted to be with her at the moment. He wanted to hold her close, and never let her go. He wanted someone who would love him unconditionally for who he was. If he couldn't change the past, he could at least try to find someone to love, but he knew no one would ever love him.
He heard the sound of a crash in the hallway. He cursed as he whipped around to see what happened. He watched as the figures in the mirror faded away, giving him a slight wave as he limped away. He gave the mirror one last glimpse as he walked out into the hallway, wondering if he would ever find the happiness that his mirror image showed. He wondered if he would ever find someone to love him, but shook his head at the notion, setting his lips into a cruel line, prepared to give whatever student he ran into at this hour of the night hell.
FIN
START:
He stalked through the halls, favoring his one good leg, trying to ignore the pain coursing through the other. He was doing his familiar nighttime prowl, looking for anyone, and anything out of the ordinary. Finally, he gave in to the pain, and slipped silently and unnoticed into a classroom he knew was unused. He sat down on top of one row of desks that had been pushed backwards, and propped his leg up next to him.
He could see the blood staining through the bandages. It had been a week, the wounds should have started to heal, but without the aid of magic, they were healing incredibly slowly. He ripped off a piece from the edge of his robes and gently pressed it to the bandage that the blood was coming through. He'd have to stop by Filch's office again, at least the man had some decent bandages. He removed a vial from his pocket, and gently poured the contents of the healing potion over the wounds, soothing them, although not by much.
It was then the glimmer of gold in the corner caught his eye. There was a large gold trimmed floor length mirror, half hidden in the darkness, standing there. He moved the desk he was sitting on closer, and sat down again, gently replacing the bandages on his leg. The bleeding had stopped, but they still hurt quite a lot. He turned to look in the mirror, and he saw the engraving around the gold border. "Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on woshi." He stared at it for a long minute, puzzled by what it read.
It wasn't a language he recognized, nor anything close to one. But the longer he stared at it, he realized what it said. So this was the infamous mirror of Erised, supposed to show you what you felt in the deepest corners of your heart, even if you didn't realize it. This was the mirror that had drove men insane with wondering what their life could have been, this was the mirror that people had spent their lives staring into, seeing their lives, as they wished they would be.
But he scowled as he looked into the mirror. All he saw was a reflection of himself, the same greasy black hair falling loosely around his face, the same large hook nose, the same billowing black robes. The face in the mirror held the same scowl he knew he had on his own face. No, this wasn't the mirror of Erised, this mirror was just showing him, this mirror was just proving to him that he was but a shadow of a man.
As he turned to leave, however, the image in the mirror changed. Instantly, his attention was focused on the glass again. The face in the mirror was still undoubtedly his, but he-it-had changed. He stared at the reflection in the mirror. Rather than the long black robes he wore, the man in the mirror was wearing emerald green, and short sleeved robes. He never wore short sleeves in life, to hide the ugly mark that reminded him of his past life, of wrong choices that he had made.
The reflection in the mirror grinned out at him, as if it was teasing him. The face in the mirror still had the same long black hair, only it was neatly brushed and not nearly as greasy as it currently was. The face was unlined like his was, instead it was still young and fresh, like he should look. The reflection thrust out his left arm, unmarred by the mark that repulsed him, unblemished, still fresh. The skin rather than being sallow and pale had a healthy, almost tan, glow.
He watched as a young woman appeared out of the shadows, from the corner of the mirror, and came to stand next to his reflection. She had fiery red hair, and brilliant green eyes, green eyes that he found himself forced to look into too many times to count. She came and stood next to his reflection, and he watched as the man in the mirror wrapped his arm around the girl, holding her close, and the girl did the same, making it very obvious that the two were in love.
He couldn't help himself, he reached out to cup the pale fragile skin of the girl before him, and she slowly changed, slowly morphed. No longer was it the girl he had wanted so many years ago, instead it was another girl, one that he didn't recognize. Again, he saw himself as he was in the mirror, the evil greasy git of a potions master, but the girl stood next to him, unflinching, The mirror image of himself still had his arm around her, and she was still close to the image.
The long black robes were back, and he wanted to know how anyone could stand to be that close to him. But yet the girl seemed to be truly happy around him. She had a head of mahagony curls, cascading down her back, and her hair was frizzy and bushy, sticking out at odd angles, but at the same time, it seemed to make her look good, the woman next to him in the mirror was tantalizingly beautiful. He looked into the woman's chestnut eyes, and he saw the love that she had, and it was all for his mirror image.
Reluctantly, he reached out again, to touch the mirror, cursing himself when he felt only glass. The girl in the mirror looked so familiar to him, he wanted to know who she was, he wanted to see her, he wanted to be with her at the moment. He wanted to hold her close, and never let her go. He wanted someone who would love him unconditionally for who he was. If he couldn't change the past, he could at least try to find someone to love, but he knew no one would ever love him.
He heard the sound of a crash in the hallway. He cursed as he whipped around to see what happened. He watched as the figures in the mirror faded away, giving him a slight wave as he limped away. He gave the mirror one last glimpse as he walked out into the hallway, wondering if he would ever find the happiness that his mirror image showed. He wondered if he would ever find someone to love him, but shook his head at the notion, setting his lips into a cruel line, prepared to give whatever student he ran into at this hour of the night hell.
FIN