The dark room stretched before him, its many stone columns laced with dusty cobwebs. There wasn't much filling the large space other than a few boxes here and there. As he walked forward though, the fabled item materialized from the darkness in the light of his torch. It was covered by a sizeable drop cloth, but there was no mistaking its shape. Severus had warned him repeatedly not to seek it out, that it would only cause him pain. Curiosity won out though, and he had silently snuck off during the Quidditch match. Quidditch, he thought fleetingly. What an odd word. The game was exciting enough for him, but he never did care for sports of any kind. Asking for directions to the nearest bathroom, he had escaped the watchful eye of Severus for a few moments. He knew seeking out this room was going against everything his friend had told him, but the draw was too incredible. Severus had said what it could do, what it showed, and the possibility of what he would see was too tempting.

Despite his confidence, his hand shook as he reached for the edge of the drop cloth. With a deep breath, he steeled his nerves and pulled it away in one quick motion. The large mirror loomed large before him, its gilded edges etched with bizarre words. He stepped back to look at it and marveled at the ornate details. Not a single spot was overlooked in its design. Every curve, every flourish…it was perfect. He held the torch between the mirror and himself, but he only saw his own image staring back at him. In a bold move, he reached up and lifted his mask away. Part of him expected to see a perfect face reflected back, but his twisted deformity was still there.

That isn't what I truly desire, he thought. It was true enough that his face was the sole reason for his lifetime of pain, but he didn't want to change it. Only because she had loved him, even with a face of a corpse. The mask slipped from his fingers and landed with a clatter on the stone floor. He looked up at the mirror again and still saw nothing other than himself. A dark anger began to build in his chest.

"Show me," he growled. "I want to see."

The mirror didn't change.

"Show me, damn it! I want to see her!" Tears began to trail down his cheeks. Desperation gripped him and his hands shook. He needed to see her. "Please…"

He sank to his knees and pressed his forehead against the glass. It was surprisingly warm even though the room was chilled. Severus had told him that happiest of men would look into this mirror and see only themselves. Is that why he didn't see anything? He scoffed and wiped his tears away. I am not a happy man, he thought with a sharp bitterness.

"Christine…come back to me," he cried.

The mirror shifted, its image swirling with mist. His breath caught at the movement and he rose to his feet again. He no longer saw himself standing there. In his place stood his beloved angel. She was dressed in a white gown, her curls hanging loose around her shoulders. It was just as she looked the night he pulled her through the mirror. And she was singing. No sounds emanated from the glass, but he could hear her in his head nonetheless.

"My angel," he wept.

More people entered the image though. Raoul. He held Christine and kissed her. Rings on their fingers gleamed in the light of his torch. Two small children appeared next to them. They embraced one another…as a family might. The image was too much. He knew what it meant. He sank to his knees and dropped the torch, his face pressed against his hands as he wept.

"Erik?" The dark but gentle voice startled him. He turned to find Severus staring at him, his eyes filled with worry. "I warned you not to come here."

"I…I couldn't stop myself. I had to see her. Just one more time. But this," he gestured to the mirror.

Severus slowly approached him and touched his shoulder. "What do you see, my friend?"

Erik gave a dry laugh. "You said the happiest of men would see only themselves. That's all I saw. At first." He looked up at Severus and shook his head. "I even saw my face as it is. But then…this." He covered his face and cried again. Severus didn't say anything, he simply waited for him to calm down. "I see her. Married to the Vicomte. They have two children."

Severus nodded and said, "Isn't that how it was before you found her again? Before…"

Erik shook his head. "No. They had one child. And she was miserable. Here, she has two children. And she's happy." His words dissolved into a broken cry again.

"I don't understand."

Erik turned back to the mirror and saw them again. His entire body shook as he struggled to form the words. "This mirror…my deepest most desperate desire…I never realized it until now." He gripped Severus's hand. "It's that I had never been born."