Mirror, Mirror

by Geri ([email protected])

Rating: PG-13, Minor slash: SS/RL in flashback

Author's note: {} Indicates character's unspoken thoughts

Disclaimer: Characters belong to J.K. Rowling; no money is being made off this story; consider it a little wish fulfillment on my part.

Summary: Snape encounters the Mirror of Erised. Stand-alone fic, not part of the Always series.
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Harry Potter ran through the halls of Hogwarts, hidden beneath his invisibility cloak, as he heard Professor Snape shouting behind him, "Potter, come back here! I know it's you! That cloak of yours won't save you this time, boy--!"

Harry had been trying to sneak out of the castle after hours; he had overheard Malfoy and his gang whispering about some planned escapade during Potions class. He didn't know exactly what the Slytherins were up to, but he intended to find out. However, before he could find Malfoy and his cronies, Harry's cloak had slipped just a bit--unfortunately, just as Snape happened to be passing by. He quickly covered up again, and he was pretty sure Snape hadn't seen his face, but there was only one student in the school who was known to have an invisibility cloak...

"Thirty points off Gryffindor if you turn yourself in now, Potter!" Snape roared. "But I'll take off another thirty for each minute it takes me to find you if you don't!"

Gryffindor couldn't afford to lose any more points, or they'd risk losing the House Cup. Harry hastily turned and ran down a dusty, unfamiliar corridor--which turned out to be a dead end. He could hear Snape's footsteps heading towards the corridor; there was no time to lose. He tried door after door; they were all locked. As he jiggled the final doorknob, he thought desperately, {Please, PLEASE open!} Suddenly he heard a click and the door gave way. He quickly entered the room and closed the door; the room was full of old furniture, crates, and odd-sized objects hidden beneath tarps and sheets. Apparently it was a storage room of some sort. Harry quickly ducked behind a large crate just before Snape walked in.

"I know you're in here, Potter!" Snape said with malicious glee. "You might as well turn yourself in now! No? Well, it's your funeral. Are you here?" He suddenly turned and snatched up a sheet, revealing a crystal ball sitting on a small table. "Or perhaps in here?" He opened a large chest that was filled with old wizard's robes. Snape frowned, then a small movement at the back of the room caught his eye. The corner of a large tarp fluttered and then settled to the ground again. Snape smiled nastily. Possibly it just a stray breeze blown in from the corridor, but more likely it was--

"I've got you now, Potter!" he shouted, snatching away the tarp. But Snape found himself face-to-face not with an errant schoolboy, but with the Mirror of Erised. He knew well the dangers of the Mirror, and tried to look away, but it was too late. He stood transfixed by the image he saw reflected in the glass: himself, at age sixteen, still corpse-pale and beaky-nosed, but laughing happily because staring up at him adoringly was...Remus Lupin. Lupin, his brown hair not yet streaked with gray, his face as yet unlined with time and hardship, his blue eyes full of mischief and laughter. Lupin's beautiful smile was just for him...not for Potter, Black, or Pettigrew...but--for the moment at least--solely for him, Severus Snape...

Harry instantly recognized the Mirror when Snape pulled away the tarp--he knew it all too well. He had no desire to look into it again, but found himself wondering morbidly what Snape's innermost desire was. {Probably to see me expelled,} Harry thought darkly. {Or more likely, to feed me some horrid potion that would turn me into a toad!} But Snape's face did not hold the nasty smile it usually did when he had some particularly hideous torture in store for Harry; in fact Snape was not smiling at all. Instead his face was filled with despair mingled with a kind of desperate longing. It looked familiar, though it was an expression he had never seen before on Snape's face...suddenly Harry realized where he had seen it: on his own face, when he realized the image of his parents reflected in the Mirror of Erised was nothing but a lie. {But what on earth could Snape be seeing?} Harry wondered. If you had asked him five minutes ago, he would have said the Potions Master didn't have a heart at all, yet there Snape was, staring at the Mirror yearningly as though his heart would break. Snape slowly reached out and laid a trembling hand against the glass, as if trying to touch whatever it was he saw in the Mirror, and whispered a single word--

"Remus..."

Harry just barely bit back the cry of shock that would have given away his hiding place. Snape saw PROFESSOR LUPIN in the Mirror?! But Snape hated Lupin...didn't he? How could Professor Lupin be Snape's heart's desire? Harry watched in horror and fascination as Snape slowly sank to his knees, palm sliding down the glass, eyes still gazing at the Mirror as if he could not tear them away.

Snape slowly sank to his knees, as he watched himself stroke Lupin's hair and kiss him in the Mirror. He watched Lupin pull away half-heartedly as he laughed and whispered something in Mirror-Snape's ear. The Mirror could not transmit sound, but he knew exactly what Lupin was saying: "Not here, Severus--what if someone catches us?" He watched his younger self pull Lupin close and whisper reassuringly, "No one will find us." He tried to wrench his gaze away from the Mirror, but could not. A choked sob escaped his lips as he continued to watch the boys in the Mirror kiss and grope in a hidden corner of the school library--hiding not just from their teachers, but from their own friends and housemates; Slytherin and Gryffindor alike would be equally horrified to find two boys from rival houses together. A same-sex relationship might be forgiven by their peers, but a Slytherin/Gryffindor alliance--never.

Harry was mortified. Seeing such raw pain on Snape's face was like seeing him naked--no, worse! He did not want to see Professor Snape cry; he most certainly did not want to feel sorry for Professor Snape, the bane of his existence, who seemed to live only to torment Harry. He screwed his eyes shut and clamped his hands over his ears, yet somehow he could still hear Snape's muffled sobs, still see the tears sliding down his sallow cheeks. Through the mixed resentment and pity he felt came the slowly dawning realization that Snape would kill him if he realized Harry was watching this. Literally kill him. As in blast him into a pile of ash. Snape, of all people, would never be able to live down the humiliation, and in a way, Harry couldn't blame him.

But he still didn't want to be blasted into a pile of ash.

Just then, a voice called out, "Severus? Severus, is that you? I heard shouting--" It was Dumbledore. Snape tried to stand up and tear himself away from the Mirror--the last thing he wanted was for the Headmaster to find him kneeling on the floor bawling like a baby. But he could not seem to move, sat there as if paralyzed, bound by the spell of the Mirror.

"Severus? Are you in here? Sev--" Dumbledore broke off mid-sentence as he caught sight of Snape. "Oh, my dear boy," he said as he gently but firmly placed his hands on Snape's shoulders and forcibily turned him away from the Mirror.

Like a puppet whose strings had suddenly been cut, Snape fell to the floor, covering his face with his hands as he tried to choke back the sobs that were still tearing loose from his throat. It was a harsh, hoarse sound, as if he were unaccustomed to weeping. Harry supposed it was possible that Snape had indeed not wept in years--he certainly could have never pictured it before now. He watched as the Headmaster patted Snape on the shoulder sympathetically, but Snape shoved him away and lurched to his feet.

"What did you see in the Mirror, Severus?" asked Dumbledore softly.

"None of your damned business," snarled Snape. When the Headmaster neither reprimanded him nor left him alone, he wiped his eyes on his sleeve and said sulkily, "What everyone sees in the damned Mirror, I suppose--something I want but can't have."

"Harry encountered the Mirror in his first year," said Dumbledore.

"Potter?" Snape looked around the room frantically, a wild and not entirely sane look in his eyes, as Harry tried very hard not to breathe. "I thought I saw him sneaking around with his cloak, thought he came down this hall--"

Dumbledore looked around the room, his eyes resting momentarily on Harry's hiding place before moving on. "There's no one here now, Severus," he said. "Perhaps he doubled back while you were checking this room."

"I suppose..." Snape said, still glancing around the room suspiciously.

"I don't know why you hate Harry so much," said Dumbledore, though of course he knew perfectly well why. "The two of you have more in common than you know."

"With Potter? Hah!" Snape scowled, looking much more like his usual self. Harry actually felt relieved to see the old hateful Professor Snape back. Snape paused. "What did Potter see in the Mirror, anyway?"

"Use your head, Severus," said Dumbledore impatiently. "His parents, of course."

"Of course," said Snape, with a bitter, twisted smile. "Something you long for that is forever out of reach. That is the curse of the Mirror, after all."

"You and Harry have both suffered pain and loss," said Dumbledore. Snape snorted but looked thoughtful. "However, Harry's loss is irrevocable, while yours is not." Snape gave Dumbledore a sharp look. "I'm not stupid, Severus," said Dumbledore. "I have a pretty good idea what you saw in the Mirror."

"You're lying!" snapped Snape, glaring at the Headmaster. Dumbledore merely stared back at him, compassion in his eyes, and Snape turned even paler than usual, then blushed beet-red and looked away. "It doesn't matter," Snape said in a hollow voice. "It's too late."

"It's never too late, Severus."

"He hates me," said Snape in an almost plaintive wail. Hidden behind the crate, Harry cringed.

"He does not hate you, Severus. He never has."

"He'll never forgive me!" Snape continued, as if he hadn't heard.

"It is you who cannot forgive yourself," said Dumbledore kindly, but with a hint of impatience, as if talking to a particularly thick-headed child. "Go and talk to him at least, Severus. You have let this fester for too many years."

"I can't!" Snape protested stubbornly.

"What's the worst he can do?" retorted Dumbledore. "Reject you? Even if that happened, you'd be no worse off than you are now." Snape was silent. "I am surprised, Severus. You have risked torture and death at the hands of Voldemort and the Death Eaters without flinching. Are you not ashamed to be so afraid of a little rejection?"

Snape's face was slowly turning from red to purple, although Harry wasn't sure whether it was from embarrassment or rage. "You don't understand!" he shouted.

"The eternal plaint of the teenager!" snapped Dumbledore. "But you aren't a child anymore, Severus! Grow up, man!" In a more gentle tone, he said, "No one can find love without risking being hurt, Severus."

"I don't love him!" Snape screamed hysterically. "I don't love him, I don't want him, and I don't need him!" He turned and fled from the room.

Dumbledore sighed and stared after him sadly. He looked around the room once more, then left without a word, shutting--but not locking--the door behind him.

Harry huddled beneath his cloak, trembling, feeling as if his world had been turned upside down. It was a long time before he could muster up the strength to leave his hiding place and return to the Gryffindor dormitory.

THE END.

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