Things That Can Never Be

What a mess. It would take weeks to clear all of this out. Professor Sprout was making a fuss over the Devil's Snare monstrosity that had served as the second obstacle to the stone. She was insisting that the plant needed to be transplanted into a nice cave that she had found for it not too far from the castle, and that of course they would have to move it at night, so as not to damage the man-eating plant's 'delicate nature'. If it were up to Severus Snape, he'd have had a jolly great bonfire and had it done with. It was easier to clean up and nice pile of smoldering ash than to move a sunlight-hating plant several miles away.

He by-passed the Herbology professor with a sneer and left her crooning to the godforsaken plant lovingly. He moved to the next chamber to find that it was littered with hundreds of winged keys, the charm that had infused them with life having been removed. He nodded in polite acknowledgement as he passed Professor Flitwick, who was now gathering the lifeless keys with short waves of his wand.

The smell of the troll that had inhabited the next chamber only a week ago still lingered, making him wrinkle his nose in distaste. Thus far the sickening odor had defied all air freshening charms, and seemed to have permeated that very stones. Still, he had his own job to do here, and did not intend to linger to ponder the problem.

He approached the small room where the potions bottles stood on a waist-high table. Two of the bottles out of place, and Snape knew that Hermione Granger had solved his riddle in a matter of minutes of reading it, much to his disgust. He wasn't particularly surprised, though, at her brilliance, and it had been invaluable to getting Potter to the stone that had been hidden in the next chamber. He pocketed the bottles carefully and moved into the room that had harbored the stone so recently.

It was odd. There were no markings; not signifying scars of any kind on the floor or walls to indicate that a deadly struggle had taken place here only days ago. Quirrel's used-up, lifeless body had long ago been removed, the only souvenir of his perilous adventure as a servant of the Dark Lord. The fool.

The room was completely unremarkable now, but for the huge mirror sitting imposingly in the center of the room. "erased stra hru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi" I show not your face, but your heart's desire. Brilliant in it's simplicity. The mirror stood like some alien spider's web, waiting to ensnare the unwitting. Severus knew of the mirror and of its morbid reputation. Men had gone utterly, irretrievably mad in front of this looking glass; completely insane just from peering inside and not having the strength of will to look away.

I show not your face...

What would he see, if he were to look now? He had no doubt that he had the fortitude to withstand any charms the mirror might weave around him. He reflected back upon his life and tried to puzzle out what vision he might find within the glass. Twenty years he knew with certainty that he would have seen himself, in Death Eater's robes, proudly donning the mask. Fifteen years ago, he might have seen his arm, unblemished by the Dark Mark, which by that time was the blight of his existence. Five years ago, he might have seen the same, or else at least a classroom free of Harry Potter, staring at him with loathing out of Lily's eyes, but with James's face mocking him.

But what would he see today?

It was no small feat to gather the strength to find out. Was he as prepared to face the image of the thing his heart most longed for as he supposed? He could not fathom what that image could possibly be at this point. He had given up on hope of being truly happy, of being redeemed, long ago... did he even have a heart after all of the things he had seen and done in his past?

Well.

There was only one way to find out, wasn't there? He took a beep bracing breath, only to let it out in a hiss as Professor McGonagall called out to him for help in vanishing the huge chess pieces from the large chamber that had been made to resemble a chessboard.

He stopped briefly before exiting the room, and looked back. Perhaps it was best this way. There was no point in seeing images of things that could never be. He made his choices in life, and nothing some mirror showed him would change that. This time as he walked away, he didn't look back.