Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, why must you rub that in!
To Sparkleshine: I would have just responded to your review by messaging you, but you weren't logged in when you reviewed and I didn't know if you that was your account name or whatever, so I didn't know how to respond, I'm so computer challenged I consider turning on the computer without blowing it up a personal triumph. Anyways I think Dobby would have either seen himself just as he is or seen the Malfoy's willingly giving him a sock. You know approving of him and willingly giving him his freedom. As for McGonagall, I think that after Dumbledore's death she'd see him standing next to her offering her a lemon drop and for once actually accepting it. As for Crookshanks, I know it's a stretch but I say go for the unexpected, I'd have him see Mrs. Figg. Mrs. Figg was a cat lady who had her fair share of Kneazles, maybe Crookshanks used to be owned by Mrs. Figg, and misses her. Though there's no known canonical connection, I think that would be the most interesting thing he could see.
Authors Notes: *Gasp* hell must have frozen over because I've actually written a conclusion chapter; I must say I didn't think I'd ever get around to doing it but here we are! Yay I actually completed my story, I now feel very accomplished! (Please note the sarcasm). Well I'd like to thank all those who've read this, put it on their favorites list or their Alerts that was awesome. I'd especially like to thank all those who've reviewed (or plan to review *Wink, wink, nudge, nudge*) it's a real confidence booster (which is kind of pathetic but hey I get my kicks where I can find them).
"What the Heart Truly Desires"
By Pink Bismuth
Conclusion
"It shows us nothing more or less than the deepest, most desperate desire of our hearts"
The question however, is, what do our heart's desire?
Severus Snape was pacing furiously about his bedroom, wringing his hands in an uncharacteristic show of emotion. His hair was disheveled and his pale face was contorted with rage. Many people would say the anger was unsurprising coming from him, however if they knew who his anger was aimed at and for what reason they would be quite surprised.
His ire was aimed solely at himself; not for the first, and most certainly not for the last, as those few who knew him very well could attest. No, the truly astounding aspect of it all was the reason for these feelings.
He was currently scolding himself for accidentally injuring someone he didn't even like very much. Though not fatal, it would be permanent and despite his attempts at brushing it aside, he could not seem to let it go.
It really was nonsensical to let something so minor have this much affect on him. He was a spy, he had killed Dumbledore, granted that was on the man's orders but he felt it amounted to the same thing. He'd seen people die; he'd committed atrocious acts, so why was this bothering him so much?
Right now one of the Weasley brats, the unholy demon twins from hell, were most likely adjusting to the loss of one ear and he was feeling horrible about it.
'This is ridiculous!' he scolded himself, 'It might not have even been the same one I helped that day!' he argued, 'Even if it was, why should it matter? He's a prankster,' Severus thought the word with as much hate as he could muster. The hate was short lived though, as he continued defending himself, 'It's not as though I even meant for that curse to hit him.'
'It might not have even been the same one' he repeated.
His attempts at reassuring himself, however, seemed only to get him more worked up. It was odd, sure, he regretted most of the things he did as a spy, ordinarily, he would just brush them aside to angst over later with a good bottle of Scotch. Yet, all he could currently think about was the young redhead's face as his ear was cursed off, and the way he nearly fell off his broom.
Perhaps it was because the boy had caught him at a weak moment and had not told anyone, had not questioned him about it, or spread it around like so much gossip. Maybe it was because he'd accidentally let Weasley see him with his guard down, see the better part of himself that he usually kept hidden. They had an odd bonding moment, somehow, Severus didn't know why but hurting the boy just didn't sit right with him.
He continued to reassure himself that it was more than likely that wasn't even the same twin, but it didn't seem to help. It also didn't help that said twin looked just like Lilly's son at the time; he probably wouldn't have even known it was a Weasley had someone not shouted "George!"
After half a bottle of Firewhiskey (he was out of Scotch) his guilt was slightly appeased. His thoughts about all of this inevitably lead to remembering that damn mirror. At the time he wasn't sure what that mirror's purpose was, why it showed him what it did; but upon further reflection, it became clear. It showed him what he truly desired at the core of everything. It showed him what his heart truly desired and that was...
...
Fred Weasley was pacing furiously about the sitting room, stopping every few moments to look over at his brother who was asleep on the couch.
He winced every time he caught sight of his brother's ear or lack thereof.
They had of course joked about it, downplayed it, but it had seriously shaken Fred. His brother lost an ear.
'He could have died.' Fred's chest tightened painfully.
They weren't identical anymore.
'George could have DIED!' A lump formed in his throat.
Fred didn't know what he'd do if it had been worse, if George had died. Fred would have died too. They were two halves of a whole, a two-piece set, where one goes the other follows. To think that he could have lost him was overwhelming. It had shocked him, and it shocked him even more when he found out who did it.
Snape was evil, he'd killed Dumbledore, no matter that odd bonding moment, they seemed to have had before; he knew Snape was a murderer.
Yet it hadn't really registered until now; not until Snape had specifically attack his brother. Did Snape do it on purpose?
'Did he think it was me?' Fred questioned.
He didn't know why he was taking this so personally. Sure, it was his brother who was hurt, but this is a war and Snape was a Death Eater. Just what did he expect?
He had never liked Snape; one moment of mischief was hardly anything. So he'd seen him act a little human and Snape had let him off once that didn't mean anything. So why did the thought of Snape specifically hurting his twin brother bother him so much?
Fred paused in his pacing letting out a frustrated sound as he fisted his hand in his hair.
'Just stop thinking so hard!' he commanded, 'Think about something else...'
Of course, the mind is a rebellious thing and when it puts itself to something, it's not easy to change. So while Fred wished to think of something, anything non-Snape related the best he could manage was thinking back to that strange day in the Room of Requirement.
He sighed in frustration but allowed his thoughts to drift away from these confusing emotions and toward that mirror.
"I show not your face but your heart's desire."
Fleetingly he wondered what Snape had seen, but quickly pushed it away as Snape was a topic he was currently trying to avoid. Instead, he thought about what he, himself saw, remembered seeing his own regular reflection, he wondered if it was narcissistic to be your own heart's desire. But he also remembered the way the reflection had glimmered when he thought of George. Had the image changed because he wanted to see his brother? At first, he hadn't been sure, but after almost losing him, it only made sense that he saw George. If that mirror really shows what the heart truly desires, and he saw George than Fred was sure that what the heart truly desires must be exactly what he got from George, which was...
...
Nymphadora Tonks was overwhelmed. She was lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, reviewing all that had happened that night. It had been horrible. Mad-eye was dead. Her mentor; the grisly, old, paranoid, consummate survivor had not survived.
Tonks was a big girl, she could handle the grief. She'd blown up half their living room, let out a few tears, and drank half a bottle of Firewhiskey and now she'd push past it.
'C-Constant Vigilance!' she told herself, he'd be disappointed in her, if she were to dwell on this when there was war to be fought.
Listening to Remus's light snoring, for indeed the werewolf did snore despite his protests to the contrary, she had forced herself to focus on something other than Moody. In doing so, she was reminded of the really strange interaction she had with two of her estranged family members.
Bellatrix's behavior had made sense... at first. Yes, the intensity of the attack seemed peculiar and Tonks was sure she heard her mumble something like "Your fault" and "She's gone" but that woman's so mad she probably muttered random stuff all the time.
No, it was the look in her Aunt's eyes when she almost got Tonks with a well-aimed killing curse that didn't make any sense and really stood out to her. Her eyes looked sane for a moment, clouded over with so much regret mingled with shock and horror, and something else Tonks couldn't identify. If she didn't know any better she'd have thought they were filled with relief when she saw her spell miss.
But that couldn't be right... could it?
'No I probably just imagined it,' Tonks rolled her eyes, 'That or the crazy bitch was just relieved the game wasn't over yet.'
It was really lucky that hit had missed, or rather lucky little Draco actually had a conscious. Her eyes softened a bit at the thought of her cousin. 'I really owe him one.'
The boy wasn't going to last long as a Death Eater if he kept trying to save people; he really didn't belong on that side. Draco had swerved on his broom, conveniently bumping into his Aunt jostling her wand arm before the curse was completed. If it hadn't been for that, she knew Moody wouldn't have been the only casualty that night.
'Don't think about Moody!' she commanded her wandering mind, tears beginning to form in her two different colored eyes, one brown, one blue. She felt movement by her side, and then Remus's arms wrapping around her. She smiled, pulling his arms more tightly to her, reveling in the comfort if brought. 'And he thinks he's a monster', she thought derisively letting out a snort, 'A cuddle monster maybe.'
Snuggling in further she thanked Merlin she had Remus, in fact it was something else she owed Draco Malfoy. If she hadn't been chasing him that night she'd have never found that mirror, might not have ever worked up the determination to achieve this.
"I show not your face but your heart's desire," she whispered quietly looking at Remus's peacefully sleeping face. It had taken her more time than she'd like to admit to figure out just what that mirror had said but eventually she did. Immediately she had thought of Remus, which was of course what she had seen. After thinking it over though, she came to the conclusion that it went deeper than that. That at the base of it all what her heart truly desired, what everyone really wants is...
...
Draco Malfoy was throwing up and when he wasn't, his body was still attempting to. He was shaking violently, he ached all over, and yet he could not be more relieved.
You may be thinking him crazy, and in the past, he'd have agreed with you.
Now, however, Draco knew that a few seconds under his master's Crucio for the general failure of a mission was nothing compared to what he would have gotten; had his Aunt reported his 'accidentally' bumping into her for what it really was. A foolish act of mercy worthy of a Gryffindor.
'I am so screwed!'; 'Why did I do that!'; 'I can't do this, I'm not cut out for this!' he thought tremulously.
He felt himself getting sick again. That night had been a big mission, catching Potter before he got to a safe house. Draco still wasn't sure why he'd been assigned to go, he was still an amateur, and that had been an important mission. Had the Dark Lord really thought he would be of much use? Was he hoping the Order members would go easy on him just because he was so young?
Either way that was wrong on both counts, for the 'light' side they were surprisingly ruthless. Draco felt comfortable on a broom but not with several hexes trying knock him off. It had been terrifying and he didn't like to admit it but he really didn't want to kill anyone. He hadn't yet become a murderer and he had no desire to become so while airborne.
He saw Potter but knew it wasn't really him, he didn't hold himself anything like the real Potter and they'd be idiots to put him on anything but a broom. Then again, when they were all summoned to a single spot it had been a Potter on a motor bike and everyone seemed rather certain it was the real one.
Well if that was the case, light side really was quite stupid, sure, they had all expected Potter on a broom, but it would have been better to play to his strengths.
Loath as he was to admit it, Draco, after playing against him couldn't deny the 'Gryffindor Golden Boy' could definitely have out-flown them all on a broom... Of course he could, it was the only way to explain why Draco himself could not win against him. It was Potter's only talent really, quite a useless talent, but then everyone had at least one thing they were good at.
The Potter his group had been attacking had been on a threstle, being escorted by the pink haired women he now knew was named Tonks. Apparently, she was his cousin as he had learned recently and she was married to a werewolf, 'Remus J. Lupin' if he was remembering correctly.
'No, no stop right there, you do not know a light sided werewolf by name! He's just the werewolf and she's not your cousin she's just a traitor!' Draco berated himself; he was only thinking these things, but with a master like his even his mind wasn't safe.
Hadn't he put himself in enough danger that night?
'Why don't I just get traitor tattooed to my forehead while I'm at it?' He was starting to wonder when he had become so self-destructive. He blamed the pink traitor, who else did he have to blame? Certainly not himself, Malfoy's never take the blame only the credit.
Of course, she just had to be there, in all her pink haired glory. It seemed like her very presence had personally insulted their Aunt for she attacked her with a vengeance. Draco thought he heard his Aunt mutter "Andy" and "gone" but that doesn't mean much, his Aunt Bellatrix is crazy, mutters random stuff to herself all the time.
It really was all that Tonks' fault that he was in such trouble now, had it been anyone else, anyone, he'd have probably just minded his own business. He most definitely would not have 'bumped' into his Aunt thus throwing off her aim. He would certainly not have done anything that... that...
"Heroic" he muttered disgustedly, his head resting on the toilet seat exhausted.
No he really had no choice but to prevent her death, because... well, because she gave him hope. Crazy as it sounds, in an odd way she was proof that he could get what he wanted.
It was pretty obvious now, just what that mirror had shown her, and on that day, she had vowed much like Draco had to make it possible. Unlike Draco, she actually succeeded and the mere fact that she did gave him hope that he could do it too. She got her werewolf, so that must mean Draco could get his family happy and whole again.
If she had died that night, his hope would have died with her. It just would have been universally unfair. However, that wasn't his only reason for helping her; he didn't know how to explain it, but he felt as if he somehow owed her better than that. It was as if they had somehow bonded over the shared experience of the mirror.
"That damn mirror." Draco muttered tiredly as he climbed into bed. Draco figured it must show you what you most want, whatever your heart most desires, well it would seem both he and his cous- the traitor, Draco corrected himself, desired the same thing. Though that was not saying much as he thought 'We all desire the same thing, that being...
...
Bellatrix Lestrange was blowing up the contents of her living room. Her husband had long since given up trying to calm her down and went to bed, not that she cared overly much what he did. She was very... upset, yes, upset covered it.
She was angry because the mission had failed and her master was displeased with her. She was angry at nephew's obvious interference during the mission. She was angry that the traitor's daughter lived, and she was angry at herself for being relieved about it.
It was all very confusing, and contradicting and made Bellatrix want to kill something. Sadly they were ordered to lay low so muggle-hunting was not an option. She let out an enraged scream of frustration as she set fire to the curtains, minutely remembering to put them out.
'What is wrong with me!' she mentally wailed.
All she could think about was that pink abomination, this was all her fault!
They had been on such an important mission; they were to catch the Potter brat. Right off, she knew they were following the wrong one, she didn't bother wearing a mask, and judging from the lack of reaction it couldn't have been the real one. The real Potter would have tried to 'seek revenge' or at the very least react more strongly to the taunting.
She was about to switch groups when she noticed her, and all thoughts, and admittedly sanity flew from her mind. All she could think about was how this girl was related to him, the mudblood who stole her sister. How she was just another reason Andy would never again, be on the family portrait. She had only been aware of half the curses she sent the girl's way in a hate-induced haze.
She was viciously pulled back to reality, though, when she fired off the killing curse. Seconds before she finished pronouncing it, she met the girl's eyes. What she saw clenched painfully at Bella's chest, it jolted such a feeling of horror through her, she had Andy's eyes. Bella was looking into Andy's eyes. This, was Andy's child she was about to kill, she suddenly felt very ill.
But then relief that was even more sickening filled her when the curse went shooting past the girl, thanks to Draco's 'accidentally' bumping into her. It was a stupid, stupid thing to do, he's lucky she didn't report him, but she couldn't deny that nauseating relief she felt at not being the murderer of Andy's daughter.
It was wrong. It was all so WRONG!
"WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH ME!" she shrieked loudly as she blew up the expensive vase Cissy had given her for Christmas.
It didn't make sense, why did she care?
'Andy's a traitor!' she reminded herself, 'Not only is that spawn of hers a half-blood, but she's married to a werewolf!' she continued, 'The world would be a better place if cleansed of such filth.' It was as her master said before, the family tree has become diseased, she needed to cut away the parts that threatened the rest, she needed to kill that girl.
Bellatrix raised her wand readying to break something else when she caught sight of herself in a mirror and paused.
Her hair was disheveled, her clothes torn and looking around the room it was in no better condition. Rodolphus had already sent away the house elves after she'd killed two of them earlier, so it would be a while before it was restored.
Sighing she fixed her hair a bit, staring at her reflection in the mirror. Suddenly her eyes widened, she gasped and quickly blasted it to pieces in panic.
She thought she saw the family portrait! It wasn't there though, it wasn't, she was just imagining things, she just needed to calm down. Shakily she sat down on what was left of their couch and tried to calm her breathing.
Her eyes burned; did she get dust in them? 'That must be it, soot from the curtains' she told herself.
This wasn't the first time she had thought she'd seen the portrait in a mirror, ever since she'd been ensnared by that mirror at Hogwarts it had haunted her.
"I hate that damn mirror," she whispered tiredly, as she thought about it, or more exactly what it had shown her. It had showed her what she truly desired above all else, she supposed it was what most people desired from the people they loved...
...
Whether they are a spy on a guilt trip, a prankster with a twin, a grieving Metamorphmagus, a Death Eater with second thoughts, or a regretful sister all their hearts desire the same thing...
...
Acceptance
~The End~
