Everything belongs to Queen Rowling, I'm making no money off this.

This was meant to be much shorter, but I sort of got carried away and ended up with around 2,000 words. Hope you enjoy it :)

He glanced at the map again. The closest living person was Professor Longbottom, patrolling the corridor two floors down. Although he was a family friend, it wouldn't stop him from punishing Teddy if he caught him wandering around the corridors after curfew. But he was two floors away. Teddy was safe for the time being, although getting caught would mean a month of detentions and an unfathomable amount of points from Gryffindor. But he, Teddy Remus Lupin, never got caught.

Silently, he made his way along the corridor, checking the map every few seconds. There was something odd about this place, up on the seventh floor. He had never had much cause to come up here, but when he did, the locked and bolted door at the very northernmost point had always intrigued and enticed him. Now, in the dead of night in the month of February, he was finally going to investigate it.

Teddy reached the door and tapped the lock with his wand. 'Alohomora.' He made to push the door open, but it didn't budge. He glanced at the map again. Goyle, the ape-like caretaker who revelled in punishing students, was making his way up to the seventh floor, accompanied by Professor Longbottom. Cursing, he plunged a hand into the pocket of his robes and pulled out a penknife – a Christmas present given to him by his godfather, Harry. It'll open any lock, he had told him, even if an Unlocking Charm doesn't work. I used to have one, but I lost it in the Ministry of Magic when I was fifteen. He hadn't had much cause to test it yet, but now was the perfect time.

He jammed it into the lock and wiggled it slightly. There was a satisfying click, and this time, when he pushed the door it swung open with a resounding creak.

He hurried inside and closed the door as quietly as possible. 'Colloportus,' he muttered, waving his wand over the lock.

And here he was. Teddy turned around slowly, taking in his surroundings.

The room was illuminated by the silvery light of the waxing moon. It appeared to be a disused classroom. There were still words written on the blackboard, although they were difficult to make out by the moonlight. The desks and chairs were pushed up against the wall, leaving only one thing on the right-hand side of the room: an enormous, ornate mirror.

He approached it cautiously, taking in the words engraved into the silver frame, written in a strange, alien language he didn't understand: Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi.

He tore his eyes away from the frame and glanced at the glass itself.

With a gasp, he stumbled away from the mirror and whirled around to look behind him, searching the classroom wildly.

There was no one there.

He felt his heart pounding in his chest, and slowly turned around again to examine the reflection a second time.

There he was – tall and thin with bright blue hair, slightly too long, and honey-coloured eyes he was told matched perfectly those of his deceased father. And standing just behind him was a man and a woman. The man had those same eyes, was tall and thin as he was, with thinning grey hair and a smile lighting up his weary, lined face. He knew he had looked old for his age. He had seen photographs. And he had seen ones of the woman who stood by his side, too: resting her head on the man's shoulder, her short hair a bright pink colour. She was grinning ear-to-ear. As he watched, she raised a hand and waved to him.

'Mum,' he whispered.

She nodded, her grin broadening.

'Dad…'

There was sadness lurking behind the smile on his father's scarred face. Teddy watched as tears brimmed over those honey-coloured eyes. His mother, too, was crying, despite the grin that never faded. Teddy felt his own eyes well up, but he wiped the tears away viciously, unable to tear his eyes away from his parents.

He lowered himself slowly to the cold stone floor, never taking his eyes off Remus Lupin and Nymphadora Tonks.

Hours passed, and still he gazed wordlessly into the mirror. His parents never walked away, but they never spoke, either. It wasn't until the sun had begun to rise, illuminating the room with a faded pink light, that he stood up on shaky legs.

'I'll come back,' he promised quietly. 'I'll come back tomorrow night.'

His mother blew him a kiss. His father put an arm around her shoulders and pulled her tightly to him, a single tear slipping down his scarred cheek as he watched his son wrench open the classroom door.

But Teddy had forgotten to check the Marauders' Map.

Leaning against the opposite wall was Neville Longbottom, wearing a black cloak over his blue-and-white striped pyjamas. He looked sadly at Teddy as he stood, shell-shocked in the doorway of the classroom, his eyes red from crying.

'I think we should have a little chat,' said Professor Longbottom softly. He pushed open a random door – the seventh floor Transfiguration classroom. Professor Longbottom went and sat at the teacher's desk, conjuring a chair opposite it for Teddy. He sat down wordlessly, his eyes on the floor.

'You know if anyone else had caught you, you'd be in big trouble right now,' said Professor Longbottom.

Teddy didn't reply.

'Goyle told me he heard something on the seventh floor. I went up just in time to see the door of your classroom close. Knowing what was in there, I decided to wait and see who had gone in…although I already had an inkling.'

Still, Teddy said nothing. Images of his parents kept flashing into his mind.

'Teddy, am I right in saying that you saw your parents in that mirror?'

He spoke gently, but Teddy felt as though he had been punched in the stomach. His head jerked up and he stared into the Herbology teacher's round face. 'How—?'

'It's called the Mirror of Erised. It shows what one desires most in the world.'

Something clicked into place in Teddy's brain. What one desires most in the world. There had always been a gaping hole inside him, a hole where his parents should be. He didn't remember them, but he knew plenty about them. They had died in the Battle of Hogwarts during the Second Wizarding War. They had died in the fight against evil, the fight to create a better world. A werewolf and a Metamorphmagus, both had been regarded differently in the eyes of others – him, a monster, her, an oddity. But they were more than that, so much more. They were good people, great people. They were his parents.

He didn't realise that his eyes had welled up with tears again until Professor Longbottom came out from behind the desk to put an arm around him. Furious with himself, Teddy stood up and marched over to the window, whirling around to face the teacher. He wasn't going to cry. He wasn't going to be weak anymore.

'What's my punishment?' he asked, trying to keep his voice steady and failing.

Professor Longbottom frowned. 'I'm not going to punish you, Teddy. But you have to promise not to go near that mirror again. It's dangerous. Just tonight you spent hours there. You could waste away in front of that mirror. I'm going to ask the Headmistress to move it today. Please don't go looking for it again.'

Teddy stared at the ground, furiously trying not to cry, again. He never cried. What was wrong with him?

Professor Longbottom approached him, and he looked up to stare into his blue eyes. 'When I was a child,' he began, weighing each word carefully, 'my parents were tortured into insanity by the same Death Eaters your parents helped to defeat. They're dead, now, too. They ended their lives in St. Mungo's, incurable, trapped inside their own minds. They were tortured for information, but they went insane before they gave it up. That's how strong they were. That's how brave they were. When I look into the Mirror of Erised, I see them, whole again, able to be my parents and watch me grow up instead of rotting in a ward for the mentally damaged. But that can't happen. They couldn't be cured, and they can't be brought back to life, either. Your parents were just as strong as mine, just as brave. They died for you, so that you could grow up in a better world.' As Teddy's shoulders began to shake, Professor Longbottom put an arm around him again. This time, Teddy didn't pull away. He didn't even bother to disguise his tears.

'It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live. That's what your godfather told me once, after he found me looking into the Mirror of Erised. And he was right. You can't give up your life to mourn them. You have to live for them. That's what they would have wanted.'

Teddy wiped his eyes. 'I'd better go back to my dormitory.'

Professor Longbottom nodded. 'And stay there in future. No more wandering the corridors or I'll be obliged to give you detention.'

Teddy went to the classroom door and opened it. He stopped in the doorway, hesitated, and then looked back. 'Thank you.'

Professor Longbottom nodded, a half-hearted smile tugging at his lips.

He stood for a moment, waiting until the sound of Teddy's footsteps had faded away. He then crossed the corridor and entered the classroom the younger boy had vacated mere minutes ago.

He closed his eyes as he stood in front of the mirror, heart thumping in anticipation. This was it – this was the last time. He would ask Professor McGonagall to move it, and he would make sure he didn't know where it went. He would never come back again. He would take the advice Harry Potter had given him, that he himself had just passed on to Remus Lupin's son. This was the last time.

He opened his eyes.

There he was, dressed not in pyjamas but in smart, black dress robes, standing under an arch decorated with white lilies. A little vicar stood beside him, and rows of people before him. He spotted Harry and Ginny, Ron and Hermione. The whole Weasley family, various members of the Order, some old school friends, his grandmother…his heart leapt. There, in the front row…Frank and Alice Longbottom smiled up at them. Their eyes were not staring vacantly into space, wondering who he was, who they were, what was happening…no. They were smiling, bursting with pride as they looked up at their son, their son, Neville, who they recognised, who they knew and loved…

And, making her way up the aisle, was a thin girl with waist-length, straggly dirty blonde hair that she hadn't bothered to tame even for the occasion, enormous blue eyes and a perfect smile, dressed in a white gown which trailed behind her, looking like some sort of ethereal goddess, somehow even more beautiful than usual…she was being led towards him by her father, dressed entirely in yellow, beaming fit to burst.

He was at his wedding, watched by his sane, live and proud parents as he married the woman he hadn't been brave enough to tell he loved…

Luna Lovegood took his reflection's hand. The real Neville watched, painfully alone, as she kissed him gently on the lips.

Thanks for reading. Sorry if you don't ship Nuna, but it hugely upset me that they married different people and I've always imagined that they both secretly loved each other, but were too shy to admit it. Anyway, I hope you liked this. Please review and let me know if you liked it, or where I went wrong. Thanks! ~K x