The Mirror To Your Soul

"Draco?" I called out again. I was frightened. But you're dead... how can I be hearing your voice?

"A voice is comforting, Maura..."

There was the voice again. I drew my knees closer into my chest and began to cry; between sobs I would ask the air; why? Why did all of this happen to us? My crying out did me no favors. The only replies I received were that of echoes of my own voice and sounds not made from me at all.

"Maura... please... listen..."

I cupped my hands over my ears and rocked back and forth. Leave me alone...I had never believed in the afterlife and I certainly wasn't about to have a conversation with a supposed dead person... Either that or someone was playing a retched prank.

"Maura... A voice is comforting... Mirrors, Maura... mirrors..."

Mirrors? What is this person... or thing, trying to tell me? I feel lost and confused, tired and lonely... when will all of this end? In protest of the voice I stood up and made my way out of the main room and down the dark hallway, a candle in hand, to see if I could find any of these riddlesin which my dear Draco wrote about. None of the electrics were working at all, no matter how many light switches I tried.

"Maura..."

I tried to block out the voices. I knew deep down in my blackened heart that the voice sounded so much like Draco's, but I just couldn't believe it... Me and my dammed beliefs.I carried on walking; through the winding halls with doors leading off every-now-and-again, until I came to my dressing room. Cautiously, I opened the door and peered my head around it, looking into what once was so warm. The room itself was now very cold and haunting; cobwebs were hanging from the ceiling and dust has formed a protective layer over everything.

On my dressing table; the bottles of perfume were still in their places, each covered in a thickened layer of dust; each joined by a web or two. The room smelt somewhat aged; you know that smell that accompanies an old building, like.. say... one from the Victorian age? That smell that is always there and you cannot get rid of? That smell. I used the candle I was already carrying to light a few more that were stored in a small cupboard in the corner of the room, and placed them onto the dressing table, being careful not to catch any webs alight.

Since the room was now much more illuminated; I could see, tucked away in another corner, my wedding dress.Still as the night it sat there on the mannequin, untouched for so long. The various spiders that had now laced it over with their webs had almost added to its beauty; putting a contrast of pale silver to the black of its own material. Walking over, I hovered my hand as if I was going to touch the material, then withdrew. There was a metallic sound coming from near the dressing table. Not one of someone knocking, but a sound that water might make if it was dripping onto ice which was as cold as the dark-side of the moon and as hard and steel.

Slowly, I turned. There was nothing there. Again whatever it was is hiding from me. Maybe you're hallucinating, Maura. You're going insane too... I told myself to stop. Stop myself from saying such things; it was as if I was bullying myself. There. The sound again. Only this time I span around to face the mirror. Draco's mother, Narcissa, had bought it long ago and put it into this dressing room because there was more space for it. Now it was covered over with a large, heavy curtain but I remember exactly what it used to look like. It was floor-length, with a gold-coloured frame; with mysterious looking gemstones and jewels following a pattern within it. It used to shine when the lights were on, and when it reflected the light the room seemed so much bigger, so much lighter. I missed its light.

A random impulse told me to whip the curtain off the mirror; so I did. Dust and cobwebs were swept into the air by the sudden movement of the curtain, creating a whirlwind of silver and grey which did not settle back to the ground. Instead it continued to whirl around me, sticking to my clothes and whatever else got into its way. My eyes then met the mirror itself. Within it, I couldn't see the cobweb's whirring around, nor could I see any of the furniture. All I could see was the vague outline of myself, and what appeared to be a void of darkness. If I was more into my fantasy novels, I would have called it a vortex or a portal into a darker, more sinister world. I stared into the blackness for a long while, before something started to appear.

"Maura..."

Two ice-cold eyes were the first thing I saw, followed by pale white hair. Then came the rest of the person's body; a very pale face and long figure, very skinny and pained-looking. The spectre was wearing a long black cloak, with a tight white shirt and black trousers; a cummerbund was also being worn, black in colour. He looked smart and somewhat familiar. A mask covered his face; again it was black. I could identify, by what he was wearing and his body shape, that he was male. His left arm outstretched, towards me; his eyes more intense.

"Maura..."

I was startled and staggered backwards, where I fell over onto my backside. I stared at the spectre in the mirror, and the candles blew out due to an icy breeze that suddenly whisked around.

"Maura..."

This is the spectre that had been calling me all along. I didn't know how to react to the situation. I was being called by a ghostin the mirror... in a mirror!

"Maura... please... speak to me..."He called out. His voice sounded as if it was coming through white noise and was painfully eerie.

"What do you want from me?" I asked, somewhat crawling backwards.

"You... I want you, Maura... I miss you..."

"How do you know my name? You miss me? I've never met you!" I cried out, pinning myself up against the wall behind me, still on the dusted floor. The cobwebs had finally settled and were creating a carpet of white.

"Did you not read my letter, dear Maura?..."

I then realised. Surely it couldn't be?

"Draco?..." My voice crumbled as I spoke, tears coming back and flooding my eyes.

"Maura, it's been so long... I love you... I love you, Maura..."

"Where are you? Why are you in there?... Draco, come back... please." I sobbed. Looking up at his masked face. "Why are you masked? Why are you dressed like that?"

"So many questions and so little time. I'm... dead, Maura... as I'm sure you know from the letter in which broke my heart to write... I am in the mirror, because it is where I have been trapped. I am not allowed to leave the Manor, therefore I have been encased in here, where I cannot get free, not for now anyway. Maura, solve the riddles it will allow me to get free... at least then I will be able to hold you again... Maura I still love you, even now in death. I am dressed like this because it is what reflects my soul; dark and mysterious, and somewhat dangerous." He placed his one hand onto the guard of a sword, which was strapped to his hip, "My mask? … Maura, would you still love me if I did not look as I once did? I was punished for my wrong decisions in life..." He stopped and looked longingly out of the mirror, at me and the room in which I was in. He then raised his hand up to his mask and held it against it. "I am a monster..."He slowly began to back off into the darkness behind him, his head bowed, eyes looking to his feet.

"Draco, no! Come back.. I need you..." I called out, but he did not stop. He was engulfed by the darkness within just a few seconds, leaving me alone. "Please..."

I walked out of the dressing room; you need to find the riddles, Maura... that way, you'll be able to see him again... he should show himself again... maybe help this time... I tripped over a wooden box in which was in the middle of the hallway and landed flat on my stomach. Instead of my eyes being drawn to the object in which I had tripped over, they were drawn to a small blue light coming through the floorboards. It was small and still at first, but as I became more interested in what it was, it began to move; leaving a trail of blue light. The trial of blue light began to form the shape of letters, swirling and twisting in a calligraphic manner. After a few minutes of watching it, the light itself faded leaving behind one word written in the unnatural blue light; Library.Before launching myself up off my stomach and dashing down the hallway towards the other end of the manor, towards the library, I picked up the wooden box.

Once in the library, I placed the small box onto the table in the centre of the room; I had found the box was locked on the way. The library was filled to the ceiling with bookcases; each crammed with books old and new. There was a particular section which had always interested me, but I was not heading that way. I merely sat at the table and looked around; I didn't know where to start. Then, from behind me, there was the sound of a book hitting the floor. I stood up and span around, focusing my eyes on the direction in which I heard the noise echo from. Slowly, I stalked my way towards the noises origin. I had learnt, during the war, that rushing into something could prove fatal. I laughed to myself; I had become somewhat of a ninja during the war. I would sneak over rooftops dressed in nothing but black clothing, running up walls and gliding off cliffs; although I didn't have a katana, my wand was enough.

There was nothing around where the book had fallen. No person, nothing which could have knocked it off... jut the book itself, lying on the floor, its pages spread. Carefully, I picked up the old book and read the pages in which were, until a mere moment ago, face down onto the cold tiles. They spoke of ghouls and goblins, ghosts and demons, angels and higher powers. Most of it would have been nonsense to me up until today... I would have brushed the existence of ghosts away without a second thought, but now...

I continued to read the pages. At the bottom of the second it stated the existence of black roses. Roses so dark in power that they can do dangerous but marvellous things. Unlike the familiar red rose, the black rose has powers unknown to many people, and that they can be used for deeds in which many a person would go insane thinking of.

I pondered for a moment before closing the book and placing it back onto the bookshelf, in the place in which I thought it had fallen from; but as I turned around, it fell back onto the floor again, showing the pages in which I had just read upwards. How could that be? I had securely placed it back onto the bookshelf. I picked the book up again and this time, a small key fell out of its pages; one which I presume was not there before. I once again put the book onto the bookshelf and then picked up the key. I wonder...

I moved back towards the wooden box in which I had placed upon the table in the middle of the library. Using the key in which had just found me, I unlocked its rusty lock and gently removed it. I took in a breath and looked away before opening it. Once I felt that the lid was open, I turned my head and looked at the contents; a single black rose, lay within the box which was lined in black silk. I picked it up, and I was immediately filled with the overwhelming feeling of sorrow.

A blue light; much like the one that appeared in the hallway before, was now in the lid of the box; writing again. This time, it was a much longer passage than just the one word.

What makes you feel this feeling when you walk across its grounds?
What makes you feel this feeling when your lover is six feet down?

I thought to myself before closing the lid of the box and walking off; out of the library. I knew where I had to go, the passage had told me so. I was feeling sorrow; you feel sorrow in the grounds of a cemetery which is where bodies of loved ones lie in their graves six feet down. I was heading for the graveyard and the crypt; the more haunting and devilish side of the manor.

It was still raining outside. The rain reflected my sorrow and I could feel the rain being accompanied by my own tears. I walked through the overgrown grass and past the lake, through the small woods and down a path made of the skulls of victims and past owners who betrayed their family; The Malfoy's. It was now that the tall iron gates made themselves seen; covered in webs and overgrown ivy. One of the gates was always left ajar, so I silently slipped through the small gap and carried on my journey. In the centre of the overgrown graveyard; covered by trees and grass up to you knees; was an overpowering statue of the Grim Reaper. Appropriate.I reached the centre and stood silently next to the statue, wondering which was to go next. The worn cobbled paths, now covered in moss and ivy, stretched out in each direction of the compass and the spaces between them were filled with graves and memorials. Each path lead to a different crypt; each one for a different era; the earliest being that on the left, and the latest being that on the right, and all between. I knew for a fact that the two right-most crypts were not yet used, they were for the future generations of the Malfoy family; if there were ever going to be any.

I counted two back from the right and made my down the path towards the blackest looking crypt; its exterior walls were a darkened grey with gargoyles of snakes and demons perched outside. It was the largest crypt there and could easily be compared to the west-wing of the Manor itself, in size. There would be enough space in there for the entire Malfoy family alive now, twice over. I knew that each person would have their own vault within the crypt, I would just have to try and enter Draco's. Carefully, I turned the dulled silver handle on the entrance door to the crypt, and slid inside.

The interior was as dull and as cold as the exterior. Dark stone walls were cold and unwelcoming and the sound of me stepping onto the concrete below my feet echoed eerily. At least it wasn't damp in there.As I walked further down the corridor, candles which were mounted to the wall began to light themselves, so I could see where I was going much easier, even if it did add even more of a spooky tone to the place.

The various Vaults branched off left and right, but they weren't the ones I wanted. Each door into them was insane in size and far too big to be considered a mere door. Each looked more like a grand entrance into a castle with finely decorated hinges and doorknobs, door-frames and gargoyles. They were staggered along each wall, so no door was opposite another. Each door seemed to have some sort of puzzle to solve in order to get inside; those that were in use anyway. The ones that we're not in use did not have such puzzles or riddles upon them. A pattern?I walked to the end of the corridor, where the last vault presented itself to me; large black doors with silver engraves accents. Snakes and serpents were the engraved decoration into both the silver and the black; could this be the place?

I approached the door and attempted to turn the handle. It wouldn't budge. Instead, the same blue light from earlier appeared and wrote yet another passage, this time upon the doors;

One for sorrow,
One for love,
One like a screen,
One like a dove,
One to house light,
One to feel pain,
One to be together again.

It was staggered across the doors. Each part of the poem or riddle was glowing in blue above a small ledge. I couldn't work it out. It seemed that each line of the poem was a riddle in its own rights. I clutched the rose, re-reading the poem over and over, both aloud and in my head.

"One line at a time..."

"Draco?" I called out, as if to greet his voice, but there was nothing more. One line at a time? One for sorrow... Sorrow... I was feeling sorrow, and I felt it the moment I picked up the rose. Perhaps...? I took a step to the left and placed the black rose onto the small ledge below the first line of the poem. Almost immediately after I did so, a case slowly materialised over the rose, as if to keep it safe. That's what I have to do! I thought to myself. There must surely be a rose for each of the ledges... for each of the lines in the poem! Momentarily I felt overjoyed with myself but it soon faded, as I did not know where to start. I need to find Draco... I need a mirror...