Mocking Mirror
AN:I remembered my previous fic- Mirrors- and the thought came into me. Hope it's good!
Bellatrix Black hated mirrors. Her hatred and almost fear of these smooth objects began when her cousin died and duplicated when her other cousin died. The only two who shared her piercing, grey eyes.
She hated mirrors as it showed perfection- completion of what it should be and do, what it should look like unlike her. She was purely a Black in the way she acted and saw things, the way she treated the rest, however, the only thing that stopped her from being the perfect Black was her grey eyes. The grey eyes that the mirror mockingly showed her. She was a Black and Blacks were supposed to have black eyes not grey, no matter how close of a colour it was. Her hatred was small and puny then, she thought herself foolish to hate an inanimate object- it was only a mirror but, nevertheless, hatred and anger always showed when she saw her grey eyes in the mocking glass of the mirror the mirror that had not even a scratch...
She hated mirrors when Regulus had died. He was the other Black that had grey eyes- the exact colour and exact shape- that was a carbon copy of her own. She took no care at first- he was to die for his betrayal, no one would mourn a traitor and as she thought that, facing the mocking mirror, she saw his eyes flash at her, she saw his reflection make no pity for a Black was known to be loyal to its family members, no matter what they had done, and a Black was known to have the humanity to at least feel pity for those who had gone, because they were still alive and powerful. He joined the mirror in their mocking laugh, as he would sneer as she was slowly dripping from being the perfect Black. Her power drained...
She hated mirrors when she had killed Sirius. He was the other Black that had grey eyes- the exact colour and exact shaper- that it was identical to every lash of her own. She had killed him with happiness and loved his existence to be banished. She had killed him with no second thought, and the only thoughts that lingered from his eternal disappearance was that he deserved death and hoped that his rest may never be peaceful. When she looked at the mirror, not only did she see her imperfect grey eyes, not only did she see Regulus sneer for her powerless state but she saw Sirius. Sirius. Her hatred in a living flesh. However, unlike his brother who looked at her mockingly, he looked at her in pity as he juvenile face glowed with peace. She understood he was making her regret... making her disgusted...
He made her remember, through his identical eyes, the days where play and joy would run between them, then, he would remind her, with his aristocratic face, that imperfection was bounding on her. For Blacks were never killers. Sure, they had supported the killing of muggles and mudbloods and half-breed, but never would they kill their own blood, no matter how tampered it was with shame. The mirror laughed louder and their eyes grew sickeningly truthful, for she had their eyes and they had hers. Exact shape and colour then, she would be constantly reminded how imperfect she was how scratched she was and how guilt should pour from every fiber in her how disgusting she was...
She hated mirrors, for it had everything she wanted: perfection. She hated mirrors because it showed her that her heart was killed. She hated mirrors because it showed her what she truly was. With one glance, she saw them- they shared her eyes, in shape and in colour- them who she inflicted pain on, were now laughing at her. Irnonic. Blacks were never laughed at
Bellatrix Black hated mirrors. It laughed at her. They laughed at her.
AN: Review?