Fifty Shades of Erised
-Written for the Fifty Shades Challenge at HPFC-
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Her hand trembles as she finishes the inscription, her heart beating faster than ever before as she drew away the silver quill, enchanted to write upon metal as if it were paper. The words flow smoothly, seeming like a lost language to the eyes of man.
She knows different, as she is its creator, forging the artefact over the longs seasons since she has last seen him. It's beautiful and powerful, but beyond all, it reflects her in a way that no other can – representing what she stands for in a way that her lost –stolen – diadem does not.
Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi
Only one who is truly wise will be able to discern the message she has concealed upon her mirror – her last creation as an old woman, whose days of youth have long since gone to ruin.
She steps back now that the deed is done and stares at the dark glass, willing it to show more than her regal silhouette. She wants to ascertain that the long months spent toiling in her tower has not been in vain, that the last of her years has not been wasted upon a fruitless endeavour.
All she sees is her own face, high cheekbones and bright blue eyes, crow's feet and grey-streaked black hair and she sighs, clutching at her sickening heart as she realises that the forging must be incomplete.
Then it happens.
She can see him, appearing beside her reflection, even though she knows that nobody stands at her side. He's glorious, hair of platinum that's just begun to grey with age, eyes the colour of storm-clouds and green robes that are perfect in contrast to the blue of her own.
He's wearing a locket; the one she's made for him, a magnificent artefact that she hopes will define his line just as her lost diadem – the relic that he's forged for her – defines hers.
"Salazar," she whispers, reaching out her hand to caress the soft glass, yearning for the ability to step through and truly be with him again. He's gone though, Godric's argumentative nature had broken their bonds and sent her love storming from the castle she had so lovingly designed.
Her heart breaks a little more as she watches Salazar in her mirror, tears sparkling down her cheeks and she fails to hear the slithering hiss of the beast behind her. It's malign and passes over her like a ghostly whisper, silent and unheard, until she finally sees it rear up behind her in the mirror.
She whirls and draws her wand, but already it is too late, for she has caught its fatal eye with her own. For a single second, her blue eyes meet its amber ones, and she sees the venom dripping from its fangs – and then she crumples, life escaping her as quickly as if it had been snuffed like a guttering candle.
The mirror stands tall and regal, with her lying dead at its base. The beast slithers, mossy green scales dryly clinking against the stone floors as it returns to its chamber, content in that it has succeeded in its mission. The serpents master seals it away – never knowing who it was that his pet has slain, just certain that his master plan, that which he has spent long years slaving to build, is successful.
Rowena is cold when finally she's found, her body already stiffening before the mirror that she's created.
The legends tell her story, the Founder who's died of a broken heart – never knowing the truth.
And so it remains, to this day, within the hallowed halls of Hogwarts, the Mirror of Erised.
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A/N: Hey mates, so this is a series of fifty drabbles depicting people who've looked into the Mirror of Erised. The one that you've just read, depicts the Mirror's creation as per my headcanon as well as the true cause of Rowena's death – that she was killed by the Basilisk during Salazar's first 'test run' of the Chamber of Secrets.
I hope you all enjoy.
Thoughts on this?
-Also Written for the Greek Mythology Mega-Prompt Challenge: Athena (Write About Rowena Ravenclaw)