Out of Sight, Out of Mind
I do not own Harry Potter. Or J.K. Rowling's Wizarding World for that matter.
The Looking Glass
Athens, Greece
There it was, the treasure of their excavation. Giánis Tsitas held it in his hand, a warm feeling flowing through his veins. After days of digging through the ground and finding only some remains of an ancient dwelling on the outskirts of Athens, Tsitas and his team had been successful. But somehow he sensed that this was meant for him and only for him. He opened the small chest. He reached inside and held up the small mirror. Like the chest, it seemed weirdly untouched by age and looked and felt as if it had just been made. He turned the mirror in his hand and gazed in its glass to see its face…but there was none!
But that wasn't possible!
Everything else could be seen except for him.
Tsitas stared at the object open-mouthed then slowly looked around. But then something drove him back, made him look into the mirror again. A voice seemed to whisper out of it. He leaned in closer.
"Hello?"
Something could be seen. A face appeared now, but it wasn't his face. A man could be seen, a man with white hair and beard and a curiously small nose, almost snake-like as if it had degraded, like an old statue. And it spoke, spoke in a language Tsitas new, spoke in Ancient Greece:
I am Herpōn…
He didn't really remember what had happened next. He only knew that he had to protect that mirror and its box at all cost. He was living in different places now knowing that he couldn't be discovered for he heeded him. He, who had been known by others as Herpōn ho deinós. He, who had been meaning to return to this world properly, who had discovered the true meaning of life, of their purpose, their origin. Work needed to be done.
We will make this world as it was, we will gain the means of going further. And you, Giánis, you will be the most important man on achieving this goal.
Of course he was! He was devoted to his master, he would follow him anywhere.
…And there were gaps, a darkness within his memory, blanks where there should be events.
But he couldn't SEE!
He looked around frightened as he struggled to find out where he was.
The shop; the muddy field; him desperately to keep the toad above the chicken egg…
Now we have death on our side…
He stumbled out of a house at night with his mirror in one hand and a kitchen knife in the other. His hands were red…
There he was, clutching his mirror, and the warmth that came out of it was comfort.
It whispered to him.
It was good, it was necessary!
And he walked numbly away through the grey dust that covered the area, people screaming, police sirens wailing. Men letting him go.
No…
He…c-couldn't…
What had he done? Where had he been?
The mirror sang, it sang to him, the words were music in his ears…
You are meant for higher things!
And he walked away and there was gunfire and hatred around him and he didn't care.
He just listened to his mirror.
Saw the face of the old man gaining strength.
"Wh-what…are you doing to me?"
It is time…Two years now…I am free!
"Nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo….."
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