Chapter 23

"I can't believe you're going to do this," Fred said ashamedly, covering his hands with his face. "Showing her, of all people."

"Don't be like that, Freddie," James said, his expression distracted as he carried the Marauder's Map in one hand and then his infamous Invisibility Cloak in the other. "Rosalie just wants a peek. She's never seen a genuine Invisibility Cloak."

"Neither have the hundreds of other students at Hogwarts," Fred snorted. "Are we going to show it to them, too?"

James sighed. "Just come off it, alright? I'm going to meet her now for our rounds. See you later."

Leaving behind his distraught cousin, James jumped out of the Fat Lady's portrait and hurried down the halls, his mind somewhere else. He hoped that by showing Rosalie that he trusted her, she would ultimately decide to stay with him and his family during the summer.

When the subject had been brought up to his family, by himself and Albus, there had been no objections. Mr. Potter knew what it was like to have no family, and Mrs. Potter and Lily were excited at the thought of having another girl in the house. "And she saved our Lily," Ginny had added. "We owe her so much."

The only difficult part was getting Rosalie to agree. She was so stubborn and head-strong. Sometimes it was admirable. Other times, it was just a pain in James' arse.

He met the raven-haired girl in the dark corridors, right outside of the Slytherin common room. He tapped her shoulder, suddenly excited. "Hey, Rosie," he said, using her annoying pet name.

She didn't turn around at first, and James' smiled dropped. "Hey."

Rosalie's voice was thickened and slurred. Eyebrows creased, he immediately needed to know what had happened to the enemy he'd grown so attached to. "What's up with you?" he said lightly.

With a sigh, she turned around. She sported a bloody fat lip and a nasty black eye, and she watched him contemptuously with her battered but expressive face. She paused, as if she didn't know how to defend herself, before she said, "Hi Potter."

"What happened to your face?" he blurted out inconsiderately, dropping the cloak against the corridor wall.

"It doesn't matter," she said scornfully. "Let's just get our rounds over with."

"Come on, you can tell me," he badgered. "Did someone do this to you?"

"I said it doesn't bloody matter," she growled sternly. "I'm not really in a 'share and care' mood."

With a click of his tongue, he reached out and touched her fat lip with his thumb. "That's a nasty split lip."

Rosalie recoiled from his touch with a grimace. "Get your hands off of me, you git."

"Ooh, isn't it our Rosie? Getting cozy with Potter, I see!" came a chilly voice from the shadows. Matthias and Blake stepped out from the darkness, away from the concealing blanket. Blake had a bruised cheek bone, but Matthias had the worst. Not only were there several scratches on his face, but he was missing a front tooth.

If the severity of the situation hadn't been so deep, James would've laughed. He turned to get a good look at Matthias and Blake, watching them with venomous brown eyes.

"Do I need to punch out the rest of your teeth, or can you take the hint?" Rosalie yelled.

"Touchy, aren't we?" Matthias said almost playfully, as if we were just his pawns in his game. With a wicked, gaping smile, he continued, "Apparently, we didn't knock enough sense into you before, filthy blood traitor."

"Don't you know the way to a woman's heart?" Rosalie taunted grimly.

"Darling, I don't want your heart," he belittled.

"Out of bed past curfew, Matthias? 10 points from Slytherin. Go back to the common room before I take away more," she threatened, eyes gleaming with pure distaste and hatred. "Go on, you gits."

"Oh, you take the fun out of everything," Matthias droned. "Alright then, come on Blake. See you later, Rosie," he winked.

After they disappeared, James turned to face the dark-haired girl. "Let me guess? It was those two idiots that hurt you, am I right?"

"It was them and Georgiana and Veronique," Rosalie admitted.

"Rosalie, you promised. Back in December, you promised that you would report Matthias," James reminded her.

She took a shaky breath. "It's not that easy."

"Yes it is," James challenged. "He doesn't have to rule over you anymore. He doesn't own you."

Looking for a way to escape the conversation, I backed away from James. It was funny, actually, that I refused to step away from Matthias but I couldn't stand near James.

"I can't understand you," the tall boy explained, exasperated. "I wish I could, and I've tried. I really have. But you have to understand that I will never get you until you let me."

Swallowing, I said quietly, "It's hard."

"It doesn't have to be." And he took a step closer to me. Another one. Another one, until he was just inches away from me. "I want to help you," he breathed. "But I can't until you want it, too."

I caught the scent of something, and it distracted me. I shouldn't have been so focused on the smell, but as it wavered past me, it overwhelmed me. It was overbearing, not because of the actual scent but because of the impact it had on me.

"Spearmint. Not like the leaf, but like toothpaste," I whispered to myself.

James' eyes squinted in confusion. "Now you've gone mad."

Eyes wide, I leaned in closer, just to smell it again. It was definitely there. He smelled like spearmint.

"Are you sniffing me? Why are you sniffing me?"

I took a startled step back. "We have to start our rounds." I left no room for question.

With a disgruntled expression on his face, he let the moment slip out of his hands. He gave me a look that just cut through me, before an unsure smile took it's place. "Look what I've brought you."

He took out a piece of parchment from his robes, and then bent over and picked up something he had left by the wall. I couldn't see it, so immediately I knew what it was. "No," I said, the smallest of grins appearing on my face.

"Yes," he said gently, stepping closer to me and bringing his arms around me. I felt the cloak rest on my shoulders and I gripped the invisible fabric tightly as he pulled away. His arm grazed mine and my face turned red involuntarily. But I didn't have time to feel embarrassed. I stared down at my body, that was no longer there.

"Incredible. A genuine invisibility cloak. And the secret to the Marauders' success."

"That's not all." He cleared his throat and tapped his wand onto the parchment. "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."

Red ink broke onto the once blank parchment, spreading all over the paper fluidly, like blood spreading through clear water. James pointed to a spot on the map, where two pairs of foot prints stood side by side. Above one of the two was a note that stated, "James Potter". The other one sprawled out my name. "Rosalie Flint."

"How brilliant," I whispered. "But why are you showing me this?"

He grinned mischievously. "I have my reasons."

I couldn't bring myself to be upset with him. Because, in that moment of time, I forgot everything. I forgot that I didn't have a family, that I didn't have a home, that I had many enemies clinging onto my back, and that I was drowning in my own life. It was as if I had been allowed one breath of fresh air. I had burst through the surface of the consuming water, and was breathing an air clean of toils and tribulations.

It felt amazing.

Leaping up the stone steps, I came to a halt as my staircase started to move. Rolling my eyes, I waited for it to cease motion and then I walked onto the sturdy 5th floor. It wasn't my original destination, but it would have to do. I couldn't believe that Georgiana and Veronique had hid my broom; the nerve! It was simply juvenile.

I had a lot to think about, I suppose. That didn't mean I wanted to think about it, though; in all honesty, I wanted to shove it under a carpet and never touch it again. Unfortunately, that wasn't an option. I needed to sort out my head and all of these unruly thoughts, and just start putting everything in stone.

For starters, I couldn't continue living in the state I was currently living in. Classes and homework, Quidditch, work, and the issues presented by Matthias and his gang of horrid followers. The smallest things were now deemed impossible, like eating a simple meal or reading in a library. Trouble always popped up, no matter where I went.

Then, there was the matter of where I was going to live this summer. With the Potters? That seemed irrational. Did i really want to spend an entire summer with the famous, traitorous family? The muggle lovers? I had been raised to hate them, hadn't I?

This search was a waste of time. I could be doing so much more with my precious moments. I only had so long before the school year ended and I was stranded, left homeless.

I reached an unfamiliar door and I threw it open. It revealed a deserted corridor, that was littered with a disgusting amount of dust, garbage, and many cobwebs. Warily, I ventured in and shut the door behind me. Immediately, I was cast into the darkness. I took out my wand and muttered, "Lumos."

Instantly, the tip of my wand illuminated. I was met with an old portrait, who winced grumpily at the sudden light. "What are you doing here?"

"Did you see a pair of girls come this way?" I asked quietly.

"Maybe I have," he snorted.

I scowled. "They've taken my broom, and I need it for the match this evening! So, just tell me!"

"With an attitude like that, you'll never go anywhere in life," he told me, before retreating from his frame and leaving my sight.

"Well, you were helpful," I sniffed, continuing my way down the empty hall. Finally, I reached another door. It was locked, but it didn't bother me. With a tap of my wand, it unlocked loudly and the door swung open.

I walked into the stone room, looking up at the high ceiling and the windowless walls. In the corner of the room stood a tall, round-cornered object, covered in an old and torn blanket. Hesitantly, I pulled the cover away, finding a large, elegant mirror with exquisite designs wrapping around the reflective glass.

On the top of the mirror, in ancient letters, it read: "Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi." Realization hit me as I breathed, "The Mirror of Erised."

I had read about the infamous mirror many times, but the location of it had always remained a mystery to the students of Hogwarts. Occasionally, someone would claim to have found it, but them when he went back to it, it was always gone. I imagined that McGonagall kept an eye on it, and whenever it's location was discovered, she would move it once again. It was too much of a treasure to be destroyed, though many good men had wasted away in front of it, unsure of the vision they were seeing was the future or just the shadow of a wish.

Approaching it delicately, I knew that this was the last time I would see the beautiful looking glass. I touched the cold metal, watching as my identical self stared at me with warm, hazel eyes.

More people walked into the frame, but I barely recognized them. The first one I saw was my own mother, but she wasn't wearing the usual, cold and stiff glare. A happy, delighted smile had take it's place, and she was playing with my hair. Her icy eyes had melted, and in their place was a pair of smoldering, loving grey eyes.

Beside her stood my father, his face covered with a trimmed beard. Wrinkles had collected around his eyes, laugh lines from many smiles. His left arm was around my mother's waist, and he bent over to kiss her cheek. His right hand was on my shoulder, gripping it so gently, unlike the many times he had hit me out of spite and anger. These emotions didn't exist on his face as he looked at me, cherishing me.

Marcus stood beside my father, towering over him. He was wearing Quidditch robes and holding out a broom to me, beckoning me to play with him. We hadn't played together since I was just a child. Mariette was hugging me from the side, laughing as her beautiful golden curls cased her pale face. She whispered something in my ear, and I laughed at her joke.

I touched my lips, but no smile existed on my lips as I stared at the scene in front of me.

Georgiana and Veronique, along with Blake were sitting on the ground in front of us, smiling up at me. I had never seen Blake smile before; it wasn't chilling as I had expected to be. It was gentle and exuberant.

But my eyes widened when James Potter stepped into the mirror, his famous crooked grin on his face as he walked in between Marcus and Father, coming to my side and wrapping an arm around my shoulders. He leaned in and his lips barely grazed my forehead as he calmly kissed me, like he had done it so many times before. My reflection turned to look up at him, and I giggled as I left Mariette's embrace and wrapped my arms around his waist.

My eyes felt wet and tears leaked down my flustered cheeks as I dropped to a sitting position in front of the hypnotizing mirror. I could now see why so many before me had never wanted to separate from it's welcoming feeling. I wanted to take the place of my reflection, to walk into the mirror and never come back to the cruel world I existed in. I lusted for the scene in front of me to become reality, and not just a dream.

I sunk into a sitting position, and the scene shifted, working around my movement. A sob wracked my chest and I finally realized that I was crying. Tears flowed freely as I sobbed unashamedly in front of the glass. I couldn't help but reach and touch the back of my hair, to see if my mother was really playing with it so gingerly. Of course she wasn't. And she never would.

I wasn't going to waste my time, wishing upon an impossible fantasy. It would be silly and foolish of me if I were to throw away reality and lust for such a dream.

But, I thought. I suppose it wouldn't hurt if I just spent another five minutes here.

They continued to smile at me, encouraging me. Before I realized how stupid my actions before, I found myself stretching my arm out and touching where James' hand would have been. Just like my mother's, it wasn't there. But, my reflection's hand found his and they intertwined. Grinning at each other, they both leaned in for another kiss.

I smiled. I couldn't help it.

Was this really one of the deepest desires of my heart? And did it really take a mirror for me to figure it out?

An hour passed. I didn't want to leave. I didn't want to prepare for my match, which was a first for me. I just wanted to watch the intriguing ghost of the lost, glimmering hope in front of me.

"Miss Flint," came a sharp, Scottish-accented voice from behind me. "I see you've found the Mirror of Erised."

I jumped up and stared at the elderly face of professor McGonagall. I fixed my ruffled clothes, my cheeks turning pink as she looked at me coolly. "Professor. I'm sorry for intruding. I was looking for my broom when-."

"When you found the Mirror," she finished. "Pray tell, what would your broom be doing in here?"

"Someone people hid it," I muttered. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry. Many people have found the mirror before you; it is not uncommon for two or three students every year to come across it, if they are looking hard enough. But I must warn you, spending too much time in front of it will destroy you. As a wise professor once told me, "It does not do to dwell on dreams, and forget how to live.""

"I know," I said, turning to look back at the mirror. My family and friends were smiling at me kindly. I was tempted to go back and sit down with them. "I know."

"I trust you already know what the looking glass does, Miss Flint. What you are seeing in the mirror," McGonagall said gently. "It is not the truth. You must understand that."

"Yes, I know," I repeated.

She took a step closer to me, and put a feminine hand on my shoulder. "I know that the image is overbearing. You just want to stand in front of it, and never leave. But wasting away will never earn you your way to the reality of the image. You yourself must do that."

"Are you saying that what I'm seeing in the mirror can be accomplished?" I questioned.

"Not necessarily," she answered honestly. "But the feeling, the emotion and gain you see in the reflection, that can be earned."

Staring up at the tall lady, I asked mindlessly, "What do you see in the mirror, Professor?"

She sighed, and turned to face the mirror. "I see my young self, with the lover I lost long ago."

"I'm so sorry," I said, suddenly ashamed of my question.

Smiling at me, she said, "It's okay. What I see, I know I can never have. So, I put away my childish thoughts and continue to work my way through life. I have enough love to last a full lifetime. But now, I must ask you. What do you see?"

I explained the image I had seen, excluding James Potter. I didn't think that I should include him; it was too private, and I couldn't believe it myself. I had the feeling that she knew I was leaving something out, but she didn't pester me for it. Whether she already knew what it was, or didn't really care all too much, I didn't know.

"Go on your way, Miss Flint," McGonagall said sternly. "Just say you are aware, the mirror will be moved, and you will not find it again. This is the last time you will see it. And, for your information, you will find your broom in the broom closet, on the 2nd floor. It's stuck to the ceiling, if you must know, but I have a feeling you will out-smart Miss Ruthford and Miss Goyle."

A/N: There you have it! Thanks for reading; please review! This is the last chapter before I leave for France. I won't be back until the end of May, so don't expect an update until perhaps the first week of June. I may update A Stupid Thing Called Love, but other than that, none of the other stories will be updated until then, too.

Just so you guys know, I was only planning on going up to 30 chapters with this story, but I might write 35 or around that. Just so you know where I'm going! There might be a sequel, but I'm not entirely sure. I'm going to finish ASTCL before I decide on anything. Thanks again!