Greyson wandered the castle for what must have been an hour. He wasn't able to keep the tears gone for long as they eventually worked their way slowly down his face. He swallowed down his sobs and didn't even bother wiping his face as he let his feet take him away from what had been the best Christmas morning he had ever had.
He eventually came to a large empty room far from the tower and Percy and where Peeves was nowhere near. The stone was dusty and dank from little use and the large pillars had concerning cracks and scuffs, but the silence was too sweet a temptation. Here he could find peace for a little while at least. As he ventured further inside the room he saw an oval mirror of dull gold with two intimidating spires on top. Was such a large room just for this mirror? There was nothing else in it so it must be. He rubbed his tears away with the back of his hand as he took in its details with clearer eyes. The mirror itself formed a pointed archway, reminding him very much of a gothic cathedral or of Hogwarts itself. Otherwise it seemed to be just a regular mirror. Odd.
He sniffled as he tried to slow his tears. At the top of the mirror it had a strange inscription on it. Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi. He repeated it a few times to himself to look it up later and looked in the mirror to see if his face made his distress obvious. His eyes were red and his face blotchy. He'd have to spend a little bit in here regardless, it seemed, until his face was more presentable. The last thing he wanted was people asking questions or, even worse, pitying him.
He moved closer when he realized something about the way was not quite right and frowned when he saw himself older and handsome looking. He had light crow's feet at the corner of his eyes and a few grey hairs that became more obvious now that he was looking for oddities. A proud look showed in his counterpart's eyes and suddenly the scene twisted in on itself. Books now surrounded him in the mirror and the flashes of cameras were almost overwhelming. He was signing books. He was respected and revered. He was important.
He reached his hand forward to touch it gently, as if anything harder would shatter this illusion he wished so desperately to be true. When his hand touched the cool surface and nothing changed the scene from seemingly replaying itself over and over again he remembered this was just a mirror. He'd never be famous or respected or even remembered... not with Harry being in the limelight as the "Chosen One" and Greyson being in his shadow as… well, the "Forgotten One" he supposed.
He closed his eyes tight as a new wave of misery washed over him and brought more tears and anger with it. He wasn't mad at his brother, he could never blame Harry for something that wasn't his fault. Harry had started a few arguments and said a few hurtful things but Greyson had done the same and would never hold it against his brother. He was angry at Voldemort! For taking their parents, for throwing him with the rotten luck of being in his brother's shadow, for Greyson not being the "Chosen One".
Instead of what he had seen making him happy, all it did was make him feel even worse because he knew it would never come true. His rage boiled over and he slammed his fist against it, causing a loud clanging sound to echo in the chamber.
"Why?" He cried out loudly. "Why can't I ever be important? Or noticed? Or even cared about?" He knew people cared, but it didn't feel that way. It felt like they were all pretending to care about him to get closer to Harry. To be friends with his brother and that Greyson was just a tool to their plans. He knew that the moment Harry decided that he didn't care for Greyson everyone would leave him.
He gasped for breath as he fell to his knees, curling in on himself. He let out an ugly choking sob. He punched the mirror more, wanting to smash it to a million pieces, until it was just a bunch of pieces on the ground and couldn't show him what he so desperately wanted and wouldn't ever have. But with it being a magic mirror, his fists just bounced harmlessly off.
All he wanted to break and smash things, to get his frustrations out in the only way he could think of. But he didn't have the energy to run to the window and shatter it and even as upset as he was he wasn't that dramatic. All that was in this bloody chamber was the damned mirror that he couldn't dent, much less destroy.
After what seemed like forever his sobs subsided and became little hiccups as he tried to catch his breath. He rubbed at his red and itchy eyes again, hating how ugly he'd looked earlier and knowing he looked worse now. He would never look as handsome as the stupid mirror showed him. He moved away from it and sat in a corner, curled up in a ball. His face would stop feeling so raw soon enough and then he could trudge back to his room and pass out until he felt ready to face the world again.
While what he truly wanted more than anything was to be up in Gryffindor tower with Harry, Ron, Fred and George, he couldn't bring himself to go back. Even just thinking about them made his heart feel as though it was constricting and the feeling didn't lighten up until he decided not to go.
He rubbed at his nose to get the horrid runny clear snot off his face that never seemed to stop once he started crying. It mixed horribly with his tears. He rubbed his arm on the front of his shirt since there were no tissues in sight. He was already disgusting and felt like he needed a shower anyway.
"Greyson?" he heard a familiar voice call. He shrunk further into his corner, not saying a word, half relieved and half hoping he would just go away and leave him to his sadness.
The twins appeared before him, moving slowly as if approaching a spooked horse. "Hey," George cooed kindly as the twins looked Greyson over and took in his appearance. They each sat on either side of him.
"Percy was wrong, ya know," Fred said as he and George wrapped an arm around him protectively.
"'Bout which part?" Greyson asked, rubbing at his eyes and nose.
"Everything," George told him.
Greyson didn't answer, but focused on that pit in his stomach that made him so nauseous. While he didn't like that feeling, he didn't want it to leave him quite yet. He wasn't ready to be comforted.
"Yeah, we care about Harry," Fred took over. "But Harry isn't our friend."
"Not like you at least," George added. "Besides, you're bound to be remembered. You're the only Slytherin to go into Gryffindor tower, like ever."
"And the way you were able to tame Fluffy," Fred piped up with a grin. "I doubt Dumbledore could even do that!"
"And he's supposed to be the greatest wizard ever!" George shuffled closer with his own grin.
"Not to mention how you tell anyone off that deserves it. The whole school was talking about how a Slytherin stood up to Snape for a Gryffindor."
"You're quite impressive, whether you know it or not."
"Thanks," Greyson said quietly, feeling his lips twitch up despite himself. The fact they sounded as if they wholeheartedly believed what they were saying made the pressure in his chest ease up some and it felt like he could take a full breath again. "But he's probably right to a degree... everyone else only cares about Harry... No one will care about me when Harry stops caring about me... It already happened when I first got here..."
"You're mad!" Fred cried out. "We'd care about you even if you had a second head!"
"Or slug eyes," George nodded sagely and then shuddered for effect.
"Or turned into a troll boogie," Fred added in a comically disgusted voice and laughed, causing Greyson to laugh as well. It felt a little off, but the fact that he didn't feel bad anymore made him eternally grateful to the twins. Fred's grin got wider at the sound of Greyson's laugh joining in. "That's better. You looked so miserable with that frown on your face."
"And don't listen to Percy," George reminded him. "He has his head so full of hot air it's a wonder it hasn't caused him to float off the ground."
"Not to mention he's not used to anyone not respecting his all mighty prefect authority. You scare him."
"Scare him?" Greyson asked, raising a brow. "I highly doubt that."
"You should see him in the common rooms," George shook his head and rolled his eyes so hard Greyson was concerned he might hurt himself. "If he was a teacher he'd be handing out detentions left and right for rule breaking."
"I told you, he's a bloody menace," Greyson grumbled. "He has the largest stick I've ever seen, I think it might even be spiked." Fred and George burst out laughing and Greyson managed another small smile as he started to get up. "Come on. We should get back. Harry's probably worried." The twins nodded and got up as well, flanking him on either side protectively.
"So what's with that mirror?" George asked and Greyson wondered if he had been holding back asking about it for a while.
"I don't truly know," Greyson admitted, feeling better with Fred and George there. "We don't want to miss the feast. I'll tell you both all about it later."
"We have a few hours till the feast," Fred drawled. "We could do something way more fun."
"Like?" Greyson encouraged, raising a brow.
George just grinned devilishly and wagged his finger. "Now, now, can't ruin the surprise." They both started pushing Greyson forward. He let out a laugh as they started running, the sound of their bare feet slapping on the stone floor echoing in the hall.
As soon as they got back to the tower Fred and George ushered Greyson to their room so he could change out of his pajamas. They kept their arms linked with his the whole time and Greyson found his smiles coming easier as they chatted on the way outside.