It was dusty. It wasn't only the thick grey layer that coated the once-gleaming gilded frame. The glass itself was foggy beneath a blanket of filth, making the images seemed distant and otherworldly.

Theseus could just make out the letters carved into the frame: erased stra ehru oy tube cafru oyt on wohsi.

He squinted through the dirty glass, seeing nothing at all. He attributed this to the sunlight probing through the open window, which sent a terrible glare across the mirror. Somewhat impatiently, Theseus waved his wand and conjured a haphazard curtain that blocked out most of the light.

Now, he could make out his own face in the glass, a little blurry, but still his face – his prominent jaw, bright blue eyes and tousled golden-brown hair. Yet there was something off about his reflection. His reflection was smiling.

And not yet a slight tilt of the corners of his lips, but a huge smile that reached the crinkles of his eyes and the curves of his cheeks. His reflection was absurdly happy.

That couldn't be. Happy was the complete opposite of how Theseus felt. Nothing would bring a smile to his face right now. Not a ride around the pitch on his broom, not a good hearty Hogwarts meal, not even an order of Merlin. All Theseus wanted now was a bath and a soft bed, where he could drift away into blissful nothingness.

He peered through the class some more, trying to fathom why his reflection was so cheerful. He noticed that his reflection wasn't dressed as a filthy battle-worn Auror, but sleek and smooth in a tuxedo with a pale pink rose in his breast pocket.

Just to be sure he wasn't going crazy, Theseus glanced down at his own outfit. Still the tattered navy jacket. He looked back up at the mirror.

Theseus' reflection beamed happily out the mirror for a moment longer, then turned around, as if gazing into the depths of the mirror itself. Mirror-Theseus took a half-step to the side, and real Theseus felt his breath flee from his lungs as he looked past his reflection.

He was looking down the aisle of a church, the pews on either side filled with guests, all dressed up in their Sunday best. He spotted his parents in the front row, his father beaming proudly, his mother weeping joyfully. There were a few other faces that he briefly recognised in the audience – Professor Dumbledore and a few other school teachers, Travers and some of his other colleagues, and Tina Goldstein, Newt's Auror friend with a keen ability to conjure ropes from thin air. On the far side of his reflection, Theseus could make out the distinct silhouette of his brother, awkward and a little nervous, looking highly out-of-place in a tuxedo.

But it was the woman walking down the aisle who stole Theseus' gaze and wouldn't let it go. As soon as she appeared, alone and confident, walking slowly and steadily towards him, Theseus had eyes for no one else but her. Dressed all in white, mirror-Leta seemed to emit an iridescent glow. The image through the mirror was distant and blurry, but Theseus knew her so well that his brain filled in the gaps, and he could see every detail of her beautiful smile, her deep brown eyes, her delicate hands clutching a bouquet of pale pink roses, the waves of her hair, the softness of her skin…

Mirror-Leta came right up to the mirror-Theseus. They held hands and turned towards real Theseus, as if turning to the minister at the church. They remained in this position for some time, smiling and exchanging occasional glances. Several times, Theseus plucked is eyes from mirror-Leta to look to his side, as if expecting his fiancée to appear then and there, laughing at this marvellous trick that she'd pulled on him. But there was no one there, and Theseus' heart seemed to tumble downwards in his chest every time.

Some time later, a sound behind him startled Theseus to once again pull his eyes from the compelling image.

'Professor Dumbledore!' he said with surprise. Dumbledore was barely three feet from him, having snuck up while he was enraptured by the mirror. Theseus silently chided himself – he was an Auror, for Merlin's sake. He could hear Leta's voice in his head – 'Be careful. Promise me you'll be careful.' He obviously hadn't been careful enough. If he had, then maybe Leta…

'Travers needs you outside,' said Dumbledore calmly, not at all acknowledging the tears rolling down Theseus' cheeks. 'We have been discussing war strategies for several hours now and your input is required.'

Hours? Was that how long Theseus had been staring at the mirror? He would have happily stayed for days just to admire Leta's smile. But Leta's voice rang in his head once more – 'You have to live your life, Theseus. For me. Please.'

Theseus swallowed resolutely. 'Yes, of course, I'll go now.' And he walked away without looking back at the mirror.