School: Beauxbatons

Theme: Expecto Patronum

Prompts: (Main prompt) Mirror of Erised [Object]; Hot and sunny [Weather]; Swish and flick [Action]

Year: 6

Word count: 3147

A/N: Written for the International Wizarding School Championship. Thanks to Paceso and Havelocked for being betas!

"I don't think we've been in this room before," Peter said as they entered the disused classroom. It was a spacious and bright west-facing room, the ceiling supported by giant marble columns.

"No, Wormtail, we've not been to this part of the castle before. That's the whole point of us being inside on a glorious day like this," Sirius explained impatiently.

"I'm trying to get this map finished off before we leave for the summer hols," James added, standing beside Sirius and pulling out what appeared to be a piece of old parchment. He placed it upon the desk and leaned over to inspect it, his wand tucked jauntily behind his ear and his sleeves rolled up. "We're working on the map because no one else is around. Now, where are we?" he muttered to himself.

"It'll be easier to tell once we add the Homonculous Charm," said Remus, standing to James's other side and looking upon the map.

"I cannot wait," Sirius declared, leaning back against the desk. "Can you imagine - seeing where everyone is at all times!"

"Calm yourself, Padfoot," said James. "Knowing the physical location of Aurelia Winlow isn't going to make her any more inclined to snog you."

"Here." Remus pointed to a blank spot on the map. James tapped it with his wand and they watched the ink spread along the page.

Suddenly, from across the room they heard Peter say, "This mirror's a bit funny." They looked up and for the first time noticed a giant golden mirror which sat against the wall, its face catching the sunlight streaming in through the high windows.

"Any mirror that you look into would appear a bit funny, Wormtail," Sirius quipped.

James laughed as Peter said, "Well, I look different. I've - whoa!" He jumped back, looked behind him, and then peered back into the mirror. The others seemed more interested now. "Seriously - come have a look at this!"

James was standing at his side now. "I don't see anything different," he commented, peering into the glass.

"You don't? It's me, but... I've got a broomstick. I'm on the Quidditch team, and - Dumbledore's handing me a trophy!"

"Handing you a trophy?" Remus asked, confused.

They glanced behind him, knowing he wasn't simply seeing his own reflection.

"Of course he is - look!"

They stared at the mirror, seeing nothing special, before concernedly looking at each other.

"Man alive, Wormtail, what did you eat for lunch?" Sirius needled.

"I'm not just seeing things! I look all different - I'm... well," he said timidly, "I'm a bit taller."

"Taller!" Sirius now laughed. "Could you imagine that!" James chuckled as Remus grinned, the thought absurd to them all.

As Peter looked into the mirror, he noticed the friends who surrounded him now were also beside him in his reflection. However, instead of laughing at him they were celebrating. Sirius and James were patting his back, looking at him and smiling in the way they did to each other. Remus too was cheering behind him, his hands thrown up in joy.

Suddenly, Peter felt hollow. He had always known he didn't mean to his friends what they meant to each other, but he hadn't realized how desperately he wanted to be seen as an equal. And at no point before had it been so plain to him that they never would.

"Let's see then," James insisted, moving beside Peter who stepped out of the way, lost in his thoughts. "Oh wow - I look different too! I'm a professional Quidditch player, and I've caught a snitch, and-"

"Do you think it just shows us as Quidditch players?" Peter asked, but Sirius had seen James's face go pink.

"What is it, Prongs?" he asked quickly.

"Oh, nothing," he dismissed, but Sirius wouldn't be swayed.

"Tell me, James Potter, or-"

"No, no," he said, blushing further, waving him away.

"It's a girl," Remus suggested knowingly, a smile on his face.

"Look at him - look at Prongs!" Sirius exclaimed gleefully, watching James's blush reach the roots of his hair. He now turned away from his friends, embarrassed and with nowhere to hide. "Oh you've called it, Moony!"

"Maybe it shows us what we like most?" said Peter.

"Well mate, if Dumbledore is one of the things you like most then we need to talk," jibed Sirius.

Peter looked cross. "You know what I mean."

"I'll go next," said Sirius, patting James affectionately on the back before taking his place. He looked upon his reflection and immediately frowned. His eyes moved up and down several times. "This mirror can't possibly show us what we want," he said bitterly.

"Why not?" asked Remus, his joy quickly dissipating.

"Because I see standing behind me none other than the Wizarding World's most perfect Pureblood parents," he said mockingly, watching as his mum and dad appeared at either side. "Oh and look, my perfect brother has shown up too." His expression had turned dark at the sight of them. "Well, they all look pleased to see me, which I suppose is about as likely as Wormtail making the Gryffindor Quidditch team."

Sirius crossed his arms. There had been a time when he'd wanted his parents' approval. But he'd realized it was an impossible dream, one that he'd buried long ago and never allowed to resurface. He was resigned to being a black sheep; the firstborn son turned rotten. It only hurt from time to time, when he couldn't help it. Like when James's mum made his favorite dessert when he visited. His own mother wouldn't even know his favorite dessert. Or when he watched Remus's mother kiss her embarrassed son - a werewolf - upon the forehead, loving him no less despite what he was. No... he would never have that. If there existed a world in which his parents could love him... he knew it was not this one.

Sirius turned away from the mirror without a backwards glance. "You're up, Moony," he muttered.

Remus tentatively stepped towards the ornate frame, unsure what it would show him. He peered into it, but after several moments said, "I don't see anything."

James stuck his head behind Remus. "What do you mean, you don't see anything?"

"What else could I mean?" he asked, annoyed and disappointed. He felt rejected by this pane of glass, as though there was something about him it didn't recognize. "It's just me, nothing else."

But Remus - usually the most perceptive of the group - didn't realize the small ball of light in the corner of the glass was not the mid-afternoon sun, but a bright and perfectly-full moon. He didn't realize he saw himself exactly as he wished to be - a normal boy. The scars upon his cheek were faded, his smile warm and eyes unclouded, unaffected by the phase of the moon. Instead, he felt cheated, the odd one out again.

"That's a bugger, isn't it?" James empathized.

"Well… what do you think this inscription means?" Remus asked, looking at the top of the frame. "Erised stra ehru-"

"Who knows," Sirius said impatiently, wiping the sweat from his brow. "But we should get going. It feels like Greenhouse Three in here."

"Yeah," said James, running his hand through his hair before picking up the parchment. "We'll never finish at this rate."

The Marauders quickly left the room, their steps growing faint as they moved down the corridor.

Severus Snape slunk out of the shadows. He'd hidden behind a column in the classroom when he'd heard their approach. He'd listened to them, terrified that they might sense his presence and relieved that they hadn't. He swished his wand, flicking it towards the door to softly close and lock it behind them. He could not risk them intruding again.

He stood in front of the mirror. It was the reason he was here. They wouldn't have been capable of understanding the true meaning of it - of course not. Black was so arrogant, Severus was surprised he could even see past his own reflection. Same with Potter. They were myopic, lacking any sort of finesse, incapable of understanding anything that wasn't spelled out plainly. All the better for him. He didn't wish to share the mirror with anyone.

Motes of dust floated in midair around him, illuminated by the waning sunshine. He pressed his hands against the glass, his nose nearly touching it, the heat of his breath fogging it as he stared at his reflection.

It was always the same. He was wearing a new set of robes, and his dark eyes glistened with a confidence he did not possess. A red-haired girl - the only one who had ever mattered - stood by his side, her green eyes lovely and soft and forgiving. She smiled at him as she used to, before he had ruined everything.

She wouldn't even look at him now, not after he'd said that word he hadn't even meant. Mudblood. It forever repeated shamefully in his head.

The mirror was agony to him but he could not keep away from it. He had been tantalized by it, then had succumbed to it, swallowed its torturous lie whole. How many hours had he stood in front of it? He didn't know. It didn't matter.

Severus ran his right hand along the gold frame, the intricately molded metal cold and hard under his long fingers. He peered into where the frame met the glass, the juncture where the magic lived.

Perhaps there was an entirely different world just beyond. One he could slide into, one more beautiful and kind than the one he currently occupied. One where his mistakes could be fixed. But he could not find a way through, though he had searched. There was no crack in the glass, no chip, nothing to squeeze through. It was firm, impenetrable. It was perfect - in every way - and perfectly cruel.

His heart felt hard and bitter, for he knew how he truly looked - his robes tatty, his face ugly and yellowed, his hair greasy and disheveled. He didn't care about these things anymore, not when he could sit here and watch her smile at him, touch him, as though she -

"Back again, Severus?" came a quiet voice from behind him. He turned around quickly, mortified.

Severus's eyes darted from Dumbledore to the mirror to the door. It was embarrassing to be caught in this way, but even worse was the insinuation that the Headmaster knew he'd been here before.

"I cannot see what you see, Severus - do not fear," Dumbledore reassured. He looked down upon the teenager, his hands clasped together. "And I believe it much too personal a question to ask. But I do not believe this is the first time you have stood in front of this mirror?"

The teenager was still too shocked to respond. Dumbledore looked at him with a faint twinkle in his eye, a twinkle that appeared on the edge of going out.

"You are a bright boy, Severus, but I cannot help but worry. You should know better than to spend your time in front of a mirror that cannot tell you - or give you - anything of substance."

His words angered Severus. Was he not even allowed the hope, the dream, that Lily would want to hold or kiss him? He knew the mirror was sheer fantasy, but why should that mean he couldn't indulge in it? Wasn't this better than nothing at all?

"Now, off you go," instructed Dumbledore kindly but firmly. "And I will ask that you don't return. If you do - I shall know," he said, tapping his crooked nose.

Severus looked up at him with hatred in his narrowed eyes. He turned on his heel and strode angrily out of the room, feeling indignant, resentful, and more alone than ever before.

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Fourteen Years Later

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Severus had rediscovered the mirror during one of his nightly patrols.

The sight of it had shocked him. He'd been certain it was no longer in the castle. He hadn't seen it in his ten years as a professor, but he had never looked for it, though he'd always wondered... He had immediately turned away from it, trying to subdue the temptation which nearly overwhelmed him as he strode out of the room.

But he soon discovered he was no less in its grasp now than he had been as a boy. The mere thought of it teased him, taunted him, and he agonized whether he should allow himself the pleasure - and the pain - of gazing into it. He had managed to keep away for a week before it became too much. He had to know.

And here it was, ornate and beautiful as it sat alluringly in the moonlight before him. He very nearly lost his nerve at the thought of what he might see, his eyes struggling to find themselves in the glass. But he was a man now. He could not allow himself to fear the sight of his soul laid bare.

It was just the same. He stood tall and proud and she was beside him, now a woman. But what he saw was no more real - no more possible - than it had ever been. Especially not now.

He stared into Lily's eyes once more, for the first time in over a decade. It was the kindness in them that confirmed they were not truly hers, and that this was only an illusion. The real Lily would not have been able to look at him like this... not after everything he had done.

He was gripped with intense sadness, disgusted with himself, and, above all, ashamed. Lily had not been a passing childhood crush. She had been the only spark in a miserable life, the only one who had been kind to him while asking for nothing in return. She had not deserved this, not from anyone, and certainly not from him.

The blame for it all - for their initial estrangement and for her death - rested upon his shoulders alone. It didn't matter that he hadn't intended for it to happen, hadn't realized how the prophecy would be interpreted. It didn't matter that he had begged the Dark Lord to let her live. She had been murdered all the same because of his actions, and it had ruined him.

Everything about it had shaken him to his core. How could Sirius Black, James Potter's best friend, have willingly given them up? Perhaps Black had discovered something about his true nature the day he had looked into this very mirror, something that had caused his loyalties to shift. And how could Lily, such a talented witch, allow herself to be destroyed without fighting back? Even the very existence of the Killing Curse seemed staggeringly unfair. How could there be a spell which so easily took life, and no counterpart which restored it? It all seemed so hideously unbalanced. And then for Harry Potter to have survived the same curse cast by the same wand on the same night with nothing more than a scar... Severus did not know what could be believed any more.

In the ensuing decade, it had been easy enough to ignore the promise he had made to Albus. But now that whispers of the Dark Lord's return had become murmurs, it seemed more likely he would have to fulfill it. And fulfill it - for the love of Lily, for the hope that somehow, it would make something right - he would.

He could hear the memory of Albus's words in his mind. "If you loved Lily Evans, if you truly loved her, then your way forward is clear."

It was simple to understand; plain to see in the reflection before him. Even after all this time, she was still what he saw in this mirror. She was still the most desperate desire of his heart.

He extended his hand and placed it flat upon the cold glass. How cruel that she stood there and he stood here when surely their places should be switched, when he would rather be dead than to live with this guilt. She looked at him with a small smile upon her lips, reaching out and pressing her palm to meet his. Oh, what he would do differently if he were allowed the chance.

Severus heard light footsteps from outside the room and quickly cast a Disillusionment Charm upon himself. He stepped to the side, watching the doorway intently.

It was Lily's son, flickering into sight from beneath an invisibility cloak. He removed the garment and stared into the mirror with purpose, his gaze never shifting from it. Clearly, this was not the first time he had looked into it. Severus felt a strangling sensation at his throat as he watched Harry sit upon the floor, longing and despair plain upon his face. Severus knew, without a doubt, who he too was looking upon.

To Severus's further horror, he watched as Albus Dumbledore removed his own Disillusionment Charm to reveal himself sitting at a desk. Severus felt like a teenager again, like a fool who had never learned his lesson.

He could only watch in silence as the Headmaster explained the purpose of the mirror to Harry, warning of the lies it showed and of those who had lost themselves within it. After agreeing not to search for it again, Harry quickly put on his cloak and left the classroom.

"Severus," Albus whispered.

With the swish and flick of his wand Severus removed the charm, reappearing before the Headmaster.

Albus turned to look upon the mirror although, Severus noted, he did not gaze directly into it. "Interesting, how closely history can repeat itself," the Headmaster commented.

Severus's eyes narrowed, feeling as though this was a jibe at him. "How you've enjoyed spying on me?"

"How willingly a boy can lose himself in fantasy." Albus looked away, and Severus had the feeling that it was not only himself and Harry of whom Albus spoke. "I was not here to spy on you, Severus. I was merely here before you and did not wish to interrupt your reflections. Now," he continued, stepping slowly away from the mirror, "may I ask for your assistance in moving the mirror to its new home tomorrow? I have some further enchantments to place upon it tonight - if you have had your fill."

Severus nodded curtly after a pause, but Albus was not watching him.

The Headmaster withdrew his wand from his robes. "I trust you know your way from here." He looked to Severus, his bright blue eyes giving a knowing glance, before he added, "It is a cold night, and the dungeons are a fair walk." When his companion did not respond, the Headmaster turned away once more. "Goodnight, Severus."

Without a word, the Potions master turned and left the room, secretly harboring the hope he might still be able to see Lily Evans's green eyes one last time.