Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter franchise or any of the original characters in this brilliant series of books. They are the property of the incomparable JK Rowling and her subsidiaries and are used here without permission.

This story is for entertainment purposes only and will not be used for profit or personal gain in any way. I simply enjoy exploring the many depths of these marvelous characters, and finding new ways to both torture and adore sweet Draco Malfoy.

I do own Cassiopia and Andromache and any of my original characters and ideas, but I sincerely hope that none of them appear as Mary Sues, because that is not my intent.

Summary/Warning: This story was written mainly in response to the marvelous BellaPur's story "Princess," which brilliantly imagines what Andromeda Tonks might see if she looked into the Mirror of Erised. I recommend that you read that story first, because this story references that one frequently and I have even tried to mimic the form on occasion with the structuring of my sentences and with my words.

This story is a one-shot, which takes place some time during my impending story "Reaching For You," which is an AU (Alternate Universe) take on the 19 years between the victory at Hogwarts and the epilogue, when Harry and his friends are on Platform 9 and 3/4 seeing their own children off to Hogwarts. The big difference is in one of the main pairings, which is Draco Malfoy and Luna Lovegood (Druna), but there are other differences too, and the epilogue, which will be the last scene of my story will be quite different.

Warning: There is some reference to torture and other cruel violations here, but nothing graphic. Just in case, I rated this one T. "Reaching For You" will probably be rated M, for it's complex themes, deep exploration of Good and Evil and their impact on people, as well as some disturbing scenes of darkness and cruelty and some sensuality too. None of it will be graphic, so if that's what you're looking for, you'll be disappointed. Anyway, enough talk, please enjoy: "Erised," below

Erised

I remember my vision in that seductive mirror as I look around the grand room, and marvel at how close this is. There are differences, some painful still, but softened by the new joys that have appeared.

Instead of my husband, there is my good friend Xenophilius Lovegood. We are only friends, but he is good company and understands well the loss of one's second half. Instead of my daughter, there is my three year old grandson, who bears much of her looks, as well as those of her gentle husband. The final tribute, of course; is in his natural gift; her gift. I watch as his hair turns her signature bubblegum pink as he giggles at one year old Victoire. It darkens to a burgundy rose as he turns to hug his dark-haired cousin Antigone, who is practically dancing on air at this first wondrous time of being a little princess in her own right. Here are all the glitter and pink bows of my dreams, as the two year old squeals exuberantly and flits from friend to friend, too excited to settle down.

And instead of my sister there is her; my beautiful niece, Cassiopia. She is the very picture of Bellatrix, is my beautiful girl; except for her eyes, which are the deep violet-blue of her father's. They are gone now, both of them; Rudolphus and Bellatrix, but this beauty before me is a worthy tribute to them both. Even more so, as like a true Black disgrace, she will never give in to darkness and madness.

Some say she gets that from me; her pure heart. Perhaps it is true, but I say, it is Sirius' courage that shines the most brightly in her.

I watch her now, in a gorgeous red gown that her mother wore in her younger days, and her heirloom jewelry from her grandmother Rosier, which even though it was stolen from her, never served its thieves. She is the gracious hostess to a fault, though a slight nervousness is evident in the tight grip she maintains on the arm of the handsome, blushing redhead who escorts her. It took him surprisingly little time to begin courting her. He met her at a summer birthday celebration and is already escorting her to a Yuletide ball, within that same year. He was born the same year as my daughter and was her schoolmate and friend at Hogwarts. There is no one I would rather see my precious niece with.

His parents are ecstatic, having almost despaired of their second son ever finding a young woman to interest him, while all of his brothers are pairing up with alarming speed: Bill and Fleur, Percy and Audrey, George and Angelina, Ron and Hermione. Yes, the beautiful people that fill the room are different too; a far cry from those who would have been invited to one of my parents' affairs. There are Pure-Bloods here, even some aristocrats, but there are also those who would have been named Blood Traitors, Mud-Bloods and Half-Bloods.

It makes no difference to me; no, it is even better, because I know that all these people are friends; friends to me and those I have lost, but most especially to those who are still here and who need their love and support even more. I smile as I watch Bill Weasley lift Antigone high above his head and swing her around until she shrieks with laughter. Bella's granddaughter; in kind, loving and strong hands that will never let her fall.

I look tenderly at my beautiful niece. She will be my daughter now, as dear to me as my own fiery Nymphadora, and my sister. I gently brush some of her tumbling curls back from her face where they have slipped out of her elegant chignon, and tuck the one over her forehead securely back into her pretty hairdo. Then I caress her cheek and kiss her on her soft brow. "It's perfect." I assure her, referring to this ball, which she has organized and set up. "And you look beautiful."

She smiles at me, her eyes tear-filled and joyful and embraces me lovingly. "Thank you, Aunt Andromeda."

I turn to see Antigone busy tying pink bows into her "Uncle" Bill's hair, and laugh outright. Cassiopia sees it too, and her eyes widen with alarm. Her escort is laughing harder than I am, even as she moves to intervene. I stop her. "You continue to enjoy yourself, Sweetheart." I tell her. "I will take care of this." But just before I can rescue the beleaguered redhead, they enter; this affair's most highly anticipated guests. They enter arm-in-arm; two golden-haired angels loved by everyone in the room, loved by each other.

But here there are also differences. Lucius is not with them, and Draco, far from my past vision, is no longer a sweet cherubic infant, but a tall angelic young man of twenty-one. He leads his mother in as if she were a queen, but it is him that we truly honor tonight, and the reason why is as far away from the mirror's image of perfect happiness, as the cold winter is from the warm golden summer.

He was captive for over a month in the spring; victim of a horrific blood cult led by the Dark Wizard Thorfinn Rowle, who is still at large. He was tortured and violated beyond imagining! I felt my blood burn with agony, every moment that he suffered; Sympathetic Magic is very much a part of the dark forbidden rites of Blood Magic. Not even Voldemort himself, indulged in that horror! Considering all that he has suffered, it is a wonder that Draco is still able to smile and laugh, and face the crowd with grace and dignity.

He is immediately surrounded and swept away by that crowd. They are hugging him, asking if he is well, showering him with love and kindness in hopes that they can somehow replace the pain he suffered, with their care. Just like in my vision, he is the star tonight, and he bows to the honor with humility and courage, and a gentle smile that simultaneously breaks my heart and makes it sing.

I rush to greet Narcissa, who watches her son with both sadness and pride in her brown eyes. Without Lucius standing protectively at her back, she seems so vulnerable, even though I know how strong she is, and how both her men leaned on her for that strength, even as they gave her strength in return. And love. The Malfoys always had love, which is why they will survive; even with Lucius doing three more year's time in Azkaban, they will survive. They are stronger now as a family than they have ever been; and they will only get stronger.

I move to embrace my little sister, but am stopped by a sweet little girl with her mother's brown eyes and golden curls. She wraps her tiny arms around my neck and hugs me tightly, kissing both my cheeks. "Auntie Andromeda!" She smells of strawberries and orange blossom, and has her mother's impeccable fashion sense, even at the young age of two. My name is one of the first ones that she learned to say clearly, because it is so close to her own.

I laugh and hug her back joyfully. "Andromache! Hello, my sweet Angel!"

Narcissa hugs us both, her face joyful again as well. "How are you, Dromeda? The old place looks spectacular! Like a fairy palace straight out of Camelot."

I laugh again as pride and joy flood in to replace my grimmer thoughts. "You must congratulate your niece for that. She has organized all of this."

"She has obviously inherited the Rosier's famous social graces." Narcissa laughs. "Remember the spectacular affairs that Mother used to organize?" She spins around like a young girl, her face shining. "It feels so good to be here again: Where our family held their spectacular balls; where Lucius first noticed me." She takes my hand. "Where we were girls together. Do you remember?"

I smile, torn between sorrow and joy. I hug her fully now, since Andromache has already given me a final kiss and rushed over with a squeal of excitement and joy to hug Antigone. The two cousins adore each other already. "Yes, Little Sister." I tell her softly. "I remember." She kisses my cheek, tears in her eyes once more.

The ball is well underway, when Draco approaches me. He is so handsome; so like his father, and yet gentle too; like his mother. He bows to me. "May I have this dance, Aunt Andromeda?"

I look around briefly to see Xenos dancing with his ethereal daughter; Draco's perfect fiancée; sweet Luna, who we all already adore. Handsome Blaise Zabini has just bowed to Narcissa, and is leading her onto the floor as well. My old school friend Serafina looks on with a smile, from the arms of her latest companion; a handsome French lord. She will not marry again, and dates only confirmed bachelors. Her son already knows well how to be a man; he no longer needs a male role-model, other than the memory of his father. Blaise's wife is not here with him tonight, which is all very well for all of us, and he too seems undisturbed by her absence. We have no need for her kind at this joyful affair. Unpleasantness and prejudice have no place at a Yuletide gathering of friends and loved ones, who are celebrating light, hope and the beauty of the season.

My nephew stands before me, hale and whole, waiting for my answer. I defer to him with all the grace that I can muster. "It would be my honor, My Prince." He laughs, his cheeks coloring modestly at the title, he does not realize how much he deserves. I reach for his hand, half expecting to touch only glass, but instead I meet warm skin and a strong, confident and gentle grasp. Draco smiles at me, his silver eyes warm and kind. Then he draws me into a graceful swirling dance that banishes the sadness of past losses, and opens my heart to the joys of the bright beautiful future ahead.

Were I to look into the mirror today, this is exactly what I would see.