AN: All recognisable characters belong to J.K. Rowling.
Lucy Weasley had had enough. This was the ninth time in the last two weeks she'd found him drunk. It wasn't that he was violent; it was the how pathetic his situation was—he was more depressed drunk than sober—and she'd had it up to there.
Yes, she knew his pain. Her uncle George had lost a twin, too, and it took him three years to get out of his depression.
But she wanted it over. His pain. Could she be selfish for his pain? What would that be called, white selfishness?
She'd been with him for a whole two and a half years; the first six months were bliss, but the last two years were horror. Her grandmother told her the first year was always the worst; only silence, blank looks.
She'd thought he snapped out of it after thirteen months, but everything had changed.
For the worse.
It was the little signs at first: owling her goodnight in the middle of the day, skipping classes at university, getting into arguments. It gradually escalated until he was dropped by the university, and he was arrested by Ministry of Magic officials for disturbing the peace.
Then came the Muggle drugs.
She'd found a packet of white powder in a pocket of a jacket he'd lent her. She had thrown them away and confronted him. He'd shouted at her to mind her own business, and she'd shouted back. But he never lay a finger on her. It was the one last string that kept them together, that kept her loving him, kept her hoping.
He never told her to leave.
Even when he was drunk, he was more depressed than anything. He would always ramble on about his fault, about how everything he touched fouled. Sometimes, he'd be so drunk he'd asked her why she still stayed with him.
Her answer was always the same: "I love you."
Her friends had often wondered why she didn't leave him. But she couldn't. If he let her go, she'd fight to stay. But if he forced her... well, she wouldn't be able to do much about it. Fortunately for her, he somehow still enjoyed what little time they had.
And she'd put up with it for years. She'd had enough of seeing his pain, of waiting for him to snap out on his own, of hoping for a miracle.
"Where we goin'?" he slurred as she yanked his arm and pulled him down the street. She'd read somewhere that Apparating drunks tended to have a negative effect on them.
"Home," she replied briskly.
"Home? Bu' I don' wanna go home yet," he whined, but made no move to stop the redhead.
"I've got a gift for you," she explained.
"A presen'? Fo' me?" he asked, cocking his head. "I though' it was my beer day yesterday."
He doubled over on the front step, shaking with silent laughter as Lucy fumbled with the house key.
"Beer day, geddit?" he wheezed in between laughs. "'cause the barman said I was in 'ere yesterday, celebra'in' my beer day."
He was still laughing when Lucy dragged him into his house. She'd found it, his 'gift', when she was on a dust-bunny hunt. She'd forgotten all about it, but when she'd lifted the cloth that had covered it, she'd known instantly there was hope.
When they were younger, he'd told her his mother had been a dabbler in strange and unexplainable magic. His mother had been reported missing by their father, and one year later, his father was diagnosed as clinically insane, and sent to St Mungo's.
He'd said that his father had repeated, "She's in the mirror, she's in the mirror."
To Lucy, it'd made sense now.
Her boyfriend had finally stopped laughing when she'd brought him into the attic.
"Luce?" he asked warily, sounding a little sober.
"I want you to do me a favour," she answered. "Look into this mirror, and tell me what you see. Just... humour me."
He shrugged and complied. The mirror he faced was old; it was familiar, but long-forgotten. It was taller than him by three feet or so, golden-framed and dusty. Engravings covered with cobwebs bordered the glass.
His eyes landed on his own reflection, blue eyes staring back. To his surprise, another him stood beside his reflection. Both had the same soft blonde locks, the same dreamy eyes, the same smile.
He turned to Lucy, grinning. "Brill gift, Luce! A joke mirror!." He started singing the chorus to a Muggle song: "I'm seein' double vision..."
He faced the mirror again, still smiling. It slowly dripped off as he noticed something: one of his reflections was blinking independently of his own blink.
Realisation dawned on him as the independent reflection clapped his reflection on the back.
"Lysander?" he breathed.
Seeing him slowly wilt to the ground, his eyes tear-filled and staring at the mirror, was the most heart-breaking thing Lucy Weasley ever saw in her life.
She caught him before he reached the ground, and became his pillar as he tightly held her waist and cried onto her stomach. Her own tears poured as she held on to him, too.
"Why?" he asked, his voice muffled yet full of pain. "Why did you do this to me?"
"Look in the mirror again." She helped him stand again, before moving out of the reflection. She watched as his eyes stared hungrily at the mirror, his face shocked.
"Mom?"
Lucy nodded, a tear dripping at the heart-wrenched look on his face. "She lives in the mirror. Remember, that's what your father said? She lives in the mirror."
She moved to him again and wrapped her arms around his waist, not looking at the mirror because she knew it would reflect just the two of them now. "She called to me. She was getting worried about you."
She felt his tears drop on her cheeks and mingling with hers. "Lysander, too," she continued, her voice breaking. "He said you knew he was going to say you were an idiot, the way you're acting now."
He chuckled a little at that; his twin would tell him that. He held the girl in his arms tighter as more tears spilled from his eyes.
"Mom," he said softly, "I want you to meet my girlfriend, Lucy."
His body shook, but this time from the sobs that escaped.
"Her parents, uncles, and aunts went to your school, Mom," he continued. "Some of them were in your year. D'you remember them, Mom?"
He softly stroke the fire-red hair of his girlfriend as he said, "Lucy saved me, Mom. She makes me feel the happiest I've ever been in my life. She's stuck with me through all this time."
He broke their embrace to look into Lucy's eyes. "I think I love her, Mom. Ly, you were totally right I'd end up with Lucy Weasley. I owe you my happiness, Ly."
He wiped away her tears and ignored his as he breathed, "Lucy Weasley, I, Lorcan Scamander, love you with all my heart."
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AN:
Written for PrimroseAmelia's Those Voices The Mirror of Erised Challenge.
Double Vision by 3OH!3 - This song has no relation whatsoever to the story. I credited them because of their chorus (which Lorcan sings): "I'm seeing double vision."
Inspired by freakyhazeleyes's Bella/Edward story Healing.
Oh, and if you're wondering what Lucy meant when Luna 'called' to her from the mirror: Obviously, Lucy had looked into the mirror, too. Her desire was to make Lorcan complete again. What she saw was Luna, her twins, and her reflection, all of them smiling. She knew instantly that it would be this mirror that would save Lorcan because his mother and twin 'lived' in it.
Review your thoughts and opinions.
