A/N - Write about what someone sees in the Mirror of Erised without using the word or genre 'family'.
Peace
Severus strode through the halls of the castle. So far he had not come across any students breaking curfew. Not that he expected to; most of the students were smart enough to realize they were far safer in their dorms after dark this year. Of course there were exceptions and he had dealt with them, walking the fine line between maintaining his cover and keeping the students from permanent harm.
It was exhausting, but still he couldn't really sleep. A few hours here and there were all he managed anymore. He didn't feel comfortable in the Headmaster's quarters, even after redecorating them. They still felt too much like Albus' no matter what he did or even Minerva's who should have rightfully sat in his place. And so he spent most of his nights roaming the castle.
He did still maintain the rooms he had used as a Professor and he often ended up there after his wanderings, managing two or three hours of sleep before he had to be up again and back to the Headmaster's chambers before anyone was the wiser. He was well aware that the last few years' events had aged him. He looked nearly twenty years older than he really was and glamours could only do so much. And he was so damn tired.
Tonight, he found himself in the third floor corridor without having conscious thought of going there. He walked past the room that had housed Fluffy, his lip curling in disdain at the ridiculous name Hagrid had given his 'pet'. Continuing on down the corridor, Severus saw a stout wooden door at the end that he didn't recognize. It wasn't overly shocking, he hadn't been in this corridor since the entire Philosopher's Stone incident that he could recall and Albus was constantly tinkering with things inside the castle's walls. Still it wouldn't do for there to be something behind the door that the students shouldn't know about.
He strode forward and reached for the handle to open the door, but there didn't appear to be one. Casting an unlocking spell also proved unsuccessful. Brow furrowing, Severus began to cast more intricate unlocking charms until one finally worked. Well, if he replaced that there wasn't a student in the castle that could open it and probably very few of the professors as well.
Stepping inside, he saw at once the reason for the complex warding of the door. The Mirror of Erised stood against the wall across the room. Severus took a few steps forward and then stopped. He knew what he would see. Lily and everything he could have had with her if things had been different. It's what he had seen after the debacle with Potter and Quirrell in Potter's first year. Severus hadn't been surprised.
He turned to go and made it to the door before he stopped again. He pulled in a breath and braced his hands on either side of the frame. He squeezed his eyes shut as if to banish her face from his memory, which of course, did not work. With a sigh of resignation, he turned and walked back toward the mirror once more.
He kept his head bowed, his hair falling forward to curtain his face, until he stood in front of it. He raised his head slowly, keeping his eyes closed. Then he took a breath and opened them. And saw…nothing.
Well, not nothing exactly, there was movement and whispery images that didn't quite solidify enough for him to discern what they were. The motion reminded him of gentle waves in the sea, tranquilly lapping at the shore so very quietly. It was mesmerizing and Severus found himself enraptured by the calmness of it all. He stared deeper into the mirror an image began to appear in front him.
It was Lily of course, her beauty unmarked by darkness, healthy, whole and smiling widely at him. She held out a hand and he reached for her but she faded from view only to be replaced by another. Albus, smiling genially, that damnable twinkle in his eye, his arm unmarked by blackened flesh, offering Severus a lemon drop. Severus snorted and Albus too faded away. And then Minerva, her gaze no longer full of disgust and disappointment, but the cheeky sarcasm that ruled their relationship. She winked at him and he rolled his eyes before she disappeared. The subtle movement of the water in the mirror returned for a time and Severus found that he could not turn away.
And then another figure, the Dark Lord, his body bleeding and broken, his red eyes unblinking, staring into nothingness. Severus knew he was dead, not dead only to return again, but truly dead. And then Severus himself, levitating the body of his most hated Master, the one that had taken everything from him, onto a large funeral pyre. And as the the Dark Lord burned, the Severus in the mirror laughed, staring at his forearm as his Dark Mark faded into nothingness.
That final image faded from view and was replaced once again by the gentle lapping of the waves, the tranquil darkness. And Severus knew, knew what he had known since he was nineteen years old. He was so damned tired of everything, he wanted peace. He just wanted peace.
