He took a deep breath into his body through the slits that now comprised his nose. The acrid stench of fear was annoying, but they all carried it. Well, Bellatrix didn't, but spending any time with the witch was irritating. Insanity was not particularly appealing.
"We managed to obtain it, my lord." Lucius Malfoy had mastered being obsequious before he'd boarded the e press for the first time. "Should we bring it in here?"
The man was hovering inside the door waiting for an answer like an overeager crup. Charming. His followers were pantywaists.
"Bring it in and make yourself scarce."
It was far easier to give them what they wanted than to receive what he desired. He grimaced and disliked the play of his facial muscles under his skin.
Desire.
It was his downfall. He wanted more. He wanted it now. Patience was not a virtue he possessed.
They floated it into the room and departed. The lingering scent of their fear dragged him from his thoughts. A quick wave of his wand purified the air.
His magic worked, but it felt wrong. It burned under this new skin. It twisted in his gut. He loathed using it, but he had no choice. There was only power.
He pulled the sheet from the mirror and looked away from the surface. This was the moment. He hadn't looked since he was twelve. The fake he'd encountered at Hogwarts with Quirrel had not fooled him. The original had a very recognizable magical signature. Dumbledore had hidden the damn thing well. He straightened his fingers and rolled his shoulders before he turned and gazed at her.
The little girl smirked up at him with wide vibrant blue eyes. Her wild riot of black curls bounced as she turned and ran up a hill. He closed his eyes. Her hair had made him think of Cassiopeia Black and, later, of Bellatrix Black. He'd been wrong. The girl wasn't a Black.
She was a Riddle. He forced his eyes open and watched the girl run up the hill toward a bright blanket where a woman sat with a small baby swaddled in blue. Her chestnut colored curls whirled around her face. She was lovely. He dragged in a breath.
She smiled up at him. He saw her easy grin and things he'd exorcised from his being decades before bloomed inside him again. The witch extended her hand to him and he wanted to take it. He wanted to let her draw him down on to that blanket. He wanted a blissful afternoon in the sunlight with his family.
He forced his eyes from the mirror's surface. He draped a curtain over it. He knew that his deepest desires were lost to him. They'd been lost to him before Hermione Granger had ever been born, but he knew that the mirror would be an irresistible torment for the rest of eternity. He glanced at the deep green velvet draped over that window into a dream world where he was loved and able to love.
He would look in on his family again later.
