Disclaimer: JKR, our esteemed author, owns everything and I'm a college student with a zero in each of my bank accounts.

Spoilers: Er, set in the future.

Rating: PG-13, probably

Pairing: Draco Malfoy/?

Summary: Draco Malfoy talks to himself in front of a mirror.

Warnings: Psychological weirdness, ahoy! PWP alert! Second person POV and present tense strangeness, too.

Notes: A million thanks to Random; she knows why. This is more or less my atonement for running hpslash for at least half a year without writing any HP slash.

**********

"But I, that am not shap'd for sportive tricks,
Nor made to court an amorous looking glass...."
-- "Richard III," Act I, scene I,
by none other than the Great Bard, of course.

*****

Amorous Looking-Glass
by little Alex
June 10, 2001

*****

You stare at the beautiful young man in the full-length mirror. Dressed only in opened robes, the youth has clear bite marks and lightly red hickeys littered all over his body. The normally pale face is now flushed, the usually tidy hair now tousled. Small flakes of almost transparent white cling to his body. In other words, he looks freshly and thoroughly fucked.

'You're Draco Malfoy,' you tell him, disapprovingly but silently.

The blond head nods and a satiated grin appears on the thin lips. "I'm Draco," he agrees, barely above a whisper.

'No,' you tell him again, 'Draco *Malfoy*. Malfoy is the important part.'

Surprised, he blinks and frowns, lightly, gently. He glances back behind him toward the bed. Then he looks back at you. "No, it isn't," he insists. "But Draco is."

You yank up your left sleeve, as he yanks up his right, and show him the Mark. He has an identical Mark, of course, and you stare at his instead of your own, knowing that he's doing the same.

The Mark calls to every drop of your blood, every fiber of your body, commanding you to come, come join the Dark Lord. You long to go, except that the young man inside the mirror refuses to go. You have come to hate this false twin of yours, for he keeps you here, keeps your blood burning, keeps your body in agony.

Keeps your heart and soul alive.

You look back up into his face accusingly, but he only raises his hand as you raise yours. You two press your palms together, but his is cold and smooth while yours is warm and curved. He shakes his head and you are almost startled, for you haven't felt any movement from your own head. You swallow, watching his Adam's apple bob.

"I'm Draco," you finally relent and see his smile stretching your lips. You turn resolutely toward the bed and stride to it, feeling him taking you over again. You allow him to return you to the back of his mind and you both watch the sleeping figure on your bed, peacefully sprawling.

Minutes later, the red-haired youth in the bed twists around a little and eventually blinks his blue eyes open. He looks around, focuses on you, and smiles. "Come back to bed."

The smile breaks the barrier between you and the stubborn youth in the mirror. You shed your robe and gladly climb under the blankets, snaking your arms around the lithe body.

The freckled young man touches the pad of his thumb to your lower lip. "What's wrong?"

You suck the thumb into your mouth and lick it a little. Finally you release it. "Sleep," you cajole. "We'll talk about it tomorrow."

Wrapping his arms around your waist, Ron nods and pushes his head onto your shoulder. You close your eyes, feeling the other boy's heartbeat against your own, and fall asleep.

~~finis~~