Regulus stared at the words in front of him. What For? They seemed to torment him, crawl under the layers of his skin and deep into his psyche. He huffed quietly to himself, not quite a laugh. Where to start? He supposed his biggest crime was being a Death Eater, though he didn't want to scare the mirror off. What if it was a real person on the other end? He knew Sirius had pilfered his communication mirror out of the heirloom pair to talk to James Potter, he'd felt the wards in his room shift as he snuck around two days before his official disownment. Regulus had let him take it, not wanting any pathway to connect with his brother. It was better that way, safer. If this mirror worked anything like that one did, there's a good chance the person on the other end was real. Whether they were alive or dead was another matter, but Regulus thought it best not to take chances this early in their acquaintance. The breathy handwriting was fading back into nothingness, and by the time it had gone Regulus was half-convinced he'd hallucinated it. Only his pin-sharp memory insisted it was real. And whoever it was, real or not, was awaiting his answer. What For?

Hedging his bets that this was in fact a real person, Regulus decided he had better start with the most important sin. The one he'd died for. He didn't want to come out and say the word Horcrux, in case it was a supporter of the Dark Lord who saw the message. After all, magical mirrors were usually inherently dark objects. Portraits were too, if ministry classifications were to be believed. It was blood magic, after all.

He let out a shaky breath onto the mirror, dragging his mouth from left to right to cover as much of the surface as he could. He looked for the smeared outline of the mysterious words, but the fogged surface was blemish free, the only signs of human life his own.

I am sorry for many things, far too many to fit onto this mirror. If you would do me the honour of letting me know who you are and how you have reached me here, I would be happy to burden you with them. But first, I would like you to answer a few questions for me.

Regulus waited with baited breath for a reply. He certainly wasn't going to divulge his secrets before ascertaining that this... person.. was actually listening. He needed to know they were trustworthy. He'd trusted in the wrong people once before and it had landed him in this godforsaken mirror room. He stared at his disappearing letters with joyless mirth. All he had was the mirror, it wasn't as if he had a choice, was it?

Mirror?

Regulus blanched. What did they mean, mirror? Surely they were talking to him via mirror too, the letters were backwards for Merlin's sake! He fought the urge to punch the cool glass, knowing it did no good. They seemed to be ignoring his other comments too, which did not bode well for getting out of here.

Yes. I am writing to you on the surface of a mirror. A magical one, obviously, although I do not have an idea of what magic powers it. I have never seen anything like it before. My first question is what is your name?

There. He supposed it wouldn't hurt to admit he was writing on a mirror. Especially if the information gained him a name like he hoped. If anything, he'd be glad of the company, even if they found out where he was and turned up to kill him. When no reply came, Regulus tried again.

Why? What are you writing on? I assumed you must also have a mirror to write upon.

Well, you know what the muggles say about assuming.

Regulus did not.

Please don't take offense.

Offense? He assumed - slightly worriedly - that it must be something bad. Had he warranted rudeness? He supposed he had, if only for his former crimes.

I was only teasing. I'm writing on a mirror too if you must know. Not my own, although I shan't say whose as that would be telling.

Now where's the fun in that?

Hush, you. I've already checked you over with every spell I could find in the library, and quite a few more besides. I can't find the source of the magic that's powering you, but it's not dark magic. It doesn't quite feel like wizard magic at all. You're certainly different from any other mirror I've encountered, though you're certainly powerful. Whatever you are, mystery man, I'm going to figure you out. Now, tell me your name and tell me what you're sorry for.

Regulus had never in his life spoken to anyone who had told him to hush. Or who had imparted so much knowledge when they clearly still had the upper hand and therefore had no reason to. He doubted this was a Slytherin he was dealing with. Still, he wasn't one to look a gift abraxan in the mouth. Now he knew he had their attention, he relaxed slightly. They obviously didn't have plans to go anywhere. His sins could wait.

How do you know I'm a man? I could be a witch for all you know.

I just had a feeling, Sir. A girl can tell these things.

And now I know that you are a girl. You assume I've clarified for you, but perhaps that was my plan all along. I guess it does not really matter if you guess a few things about me, not that I'll ever tell you if you're right. Where did you say you were again?

Nice try. I have all your messages right in front of me, you know.

What? Why didn't he have his still up there on the mirror? This damn room was punishing him again. Regulus decided to be nice, let them think they have the upper hand, not wanting to admit to himself that perhaps they truly did have the upper hand. He was out of practice at gaining intel, and if he was going to get anything out of them he had better give a little first.

Ahh, a man can but try.

Ha, I knew it. You are a man.

You've got me there.

I'm usually right about these things.

I can feel your smugness from here.

What are you doing next to this mirror then? You don't exactly sound thrilled to be there if you're apologising to a mysterious magical object.

Touché, Mrs "I am writing on my friend's magical mirror without permission".

I never said I didn't have permission.

Do you?

Well I don't not have permission.

Ah! A double negative. So you do not have permission. And here I thought I was having a conversation with someone of distinguished intelligence. Somehow, between the grammatical errors and your blatant foolishness talking to a person in a mysterious magical object I am beginning to change my mind on that.

For all I know, Mister "I'm so high and mighty writing on my little mirror whilst making fun of you doing the same", it could be you that's been foolish. Did you do something stupid to get you trapped in there? You didn't try and steal the philosopher's stone did you? If you did, then I'm glad it's a fake. Though I'm sure if you were at Hogwarts my friend would have seen you as he told me all about the Mirror of Erised and he didn't mention you being in there. Is there another one?

Regulus' breathing hitched. Were they trapped too? And the Mirror of Erised? What in Merlin's name was that? He wished he could have a normal conversation with them, all this cloak-and-dagger and backwards translating was getting tedious.

What on earth are you talking about? The Mirror of Erised sounds like a powerful magical artifact, although I cannot say I know what it is. And what does that have to do with the Philosopher's Stone? I thought Nicholas Flamel was the owner of that? My mother was rather jealous of him. Surely, there has not been another created? Also, I hardly think you would answer me if you weren't trapped too. How did you end up in your mirror room?

Regulus had long since realised this was no Slytherin he was dealing with. Far too prickly, and far too curious. His guess was a Ravenclaw. Nobody else except perhaps a Gryffindor would be stupid enough to talk to a man in a mirror.

I would have been grateful of your knowledge in my first year. I'm not actually trapped in a mirror room. I'm not really trapped at all.

Your first year? And not really? That doesn't exactly sound like the phrasing of a free woman.

I can technically leave whenever I want, which makes me free. I just don't think it would be a good idea to leave, is all. I don't know what world you're from, but it isn't exactly sunshine and roses out here. Not just yet, anyway.

She had ignored his first question. And things were still bad? Now she had his attention. Perhaps he hadn't spent decades in here after all. Perhaps it had just felt like that. If the Dark Lord was still at large decades later, he doubted there would be anywhere at all to hide, let alone a place with a powerful magical mirror.

What exactly are you afraid of?

It took an exceptionally long time for her to answer, and Regulus wasn't sure he liked it.

A lot of things. If you were here you would understand. I wish I could tell you, but if one of Them ever found me then They would definitely kill me.

Who are They?

Like I said, I wish I could tell you. I promised H- my friend that I would stay here until it's safer. They're horrible people who are after me, and They hate everyone who isn't just like them, especially those who are like

The next ten minutes were the most tense Regulus had been in his whole time in the room. He was finally getting a bit of information on the outside world, which by the sounds of things was much the same and filled with what seemed like Death Eaters. He needed this connection more than ever. If she could somehow break him out, maybe he could help her? Grimmauld Place was warded up to the teeth and should be safe for her. He could easily deal with his demented mother, and then she could help him destroy the locket, if Kreacher hadn't already.

People who are like what?

I've said too much.

Wait.

She didn't respond. Salazar, he hated having to beg.

Please don't go. I will not ask you to say anything more about it, miss. Please keep talking to me.

He waited several minutes, but she did not return.

You're right in your guesses. I am a man, I was prying, and I am trapped in a stupid mirror room and I do not know how to get out. I think I have been in here for a very long time, although I have not grown old so perhaps it has only been a month or two. Please do not leave me alone again.

The mirror fogged up slightly, but no message appeared. At least she's listening to me.

We can talk about something else if you like. Anything. I have been alone so long now that even talk about what type of dung to use on mimbulus mimbletonias would feel like the sweetest soliloquy.

Regulus then spent the next hour wondering if he'd laid it on a bit thick. He was about to start begging again when he saw her reply start to dance across the mirror.

I won't ask you for your sins if you don't ask about mine. I'm alone too, you know. What would you like to talk about?

If he could, he would have leapt through the mirror and kissed her.