4 April 2012
Wednesday, 11:30 in the morning
The National Museum of Wizarding History

The Mirror of Erised exhibition was on its third day and the National Museum of Wizarding History was as busy as it had ever been, mobbed with visitors. Among the curious, the seeking, the families, and tourists was a school group doing their best. A great bear of a wizard with a dark beard and loud voice was easy enough to see for the half-sized wix meant to be following him. The Headmaster of Hogwarts himself, Knox Greyfriar, wouldn't have missed the opportunity to shepherd the trip even if he'd wanted to. It was exciting and rewarding, was it not, to herd children in the general direction of historical context with the hope something would stick?

There were two such opportunities for the holiday-bound Hogwarts students to earn extra credit at the strange exhibition. This was the first with the second to follow a week hence. The Headmaster and a dozen others from Hogwarts had been moving through a clumpy queue for about thirty minutes now. Progress was slow, but the Museum had made efforts towards making the journey have as much meaning as the destination with talking placards and several versions of an informative booklet in the form of a scroll.

In between acts of supervision, like snapping his fingers or barking a surname, which were required so that Knox didn't misplace anyone's child, he was carrying on a meandering conversation with an acquaintance who happened to be in the line ahead of them. The students were for a moment, mostly spared his supplementary lectures. Even then, there wasn't much threat. The origins of the Mirror of Erised were, well, not entirely transparent.

Frank Sellaphix didn't understand why Eirene Antonopoulos didn't seem quite herself. He hadn't said as much, but had instead been trying to coax out of her a better mood.

"And I said, it's not what you want to see, actually," he explained. "Becuase what you want to see might be different than your heart's desire. It's really common for people not to know what they truly want or to just think they know what they want but either be fooling themselves or totally clueless. And then he said, 'good luck with that' and vanished my toothbrush."

Frank rolled his eyes at his own story of his older brother Figaro's maturity. "And he said to say hi."

Remembering not to leave Greer Grant out of the inside joke, Frank explained. "My older brother - Figaro - he thinks he's hilarious."

For the special occasion, a special class trip to see a priceless historical artifact with his girlfriend, Frank had dressed as smart as he could manage with what he had available. Neat trousers, a shirt with buttons (not from his uniform), a light coat, and his favorite blue scarf. Figaro had interfered with getting his hair just right, but Frank had managed to fix it. Rafe had sent his son with plenty to snack on, and Frank had shared with Greer who Frank knew didn't have a dad to load them down with provisions. He felt bad for Greer which is why he'd convinced her to join him and Eirene!

For the sake of the queue, Eirene stood close to Frank, dressed smartly in varying shades of Ravenclaw blue, not a hair out of place, and her shoes polished to a shine. She looked like she was on a study date. Her favorite type of date. This incredibly important school trip was also meant to be... a date.

From one angle, Eirene and Frank looked like a coordinated couple.

From another angle appeared Greer Grant, her curls mussed, her trousers somehow muddy at the hem even though they were half an inch too short, and her shoes trailing the rain of London. Eirene had already glanced at the girl critically and then stuck her nose in the informational pamphlet, only glancing up when Frank rambled on and she couldn't resist stating her opinion.

Like now.

"I know exactly what I desire and exactly what I'm going to see. Unlike some people," she sniffed, her gaze lingering on her boyfriend. Sweet, oblivious Frank.

"My goals and dreams will barely fit on the mirror's surface. I wonder if-"

Was it expandable? No, now was not the time to happily discuss the mirror's abilities. It would have been, if it had just been the two of them!

"I've planned it all out for the next ten years. There will be no surprises."

Eirene couldn't help but frown at Greer. The surprise. The surprise with muggle grandparents who apparently didn't care what she looked like when she left the house, and the surprise who Frank was being so nice to, which was sweet of him but also infuriating and also - those snacks! From Frank's father! Eirene didn't like those snacks. Peanut brittle was too messy for the museum. Those snacks had been meant for her! 

Greer nearly choked on her snack when Eirene proclaimed her ten-year plan.

She coughed into her hand, looking at Frank, who seemed more talkative than usual, and then at Eirene, who had brought everything annoying about school into the museum with them. Did Ravenclaws ever take a break from being Ravenclaws? A scroll case and several quills peeked out of Eirene's purse, and Greer noticed that she'd glanced expectantly at the Headmaster more than once, as if hoping for a speech.

"I've got a ten-minute plan," Greer offered, wishing the queue would move faster and make that come true. "I'm going to look at the mirror for long enough to make it seem like I'm really looking, and then I'm going to write about growing as a person or whatever soppy stuff the professors want to hear," Greer waved the napkin that Frank had given to her. This would do as a substitute scroll. "And then I'm going to hand it over to Greyfriar and not worry about it for the rest of our holiday."

She popped another piece of candy into her mouth and wiped her fingers on the napkin, just for Frank. Eirene was staring at her, but that wasn't Greer's problem.

"Your brother make this?" She asked Frank. He'd probably mentioned it earlier, but he talked a lot and she didn't always pay attention. "It's good."

He'd invited her after she'd complained in class about how her grandparents would never let her go on this trip, and though she'd kept it to a mumble-grumble, Frank had overheard and asked her to join him. With his girlfriend, she guessed.

Maybe it was out of pity? It must be out of pity. But who cared right now? She was out of the house and out of school and Frank was sharing snacks.

Eirene had a ten-year plan? It hadn't occurred to Frank that you could have one of those so he certainly hadn't put one together. For a moment his future flashed in his mind, all fog and flashes of indistinct light; he quickly shook away the feeling. He'd be like Eirene. He'd make a ten-year plan, maybe when he got home.

"Thanks. My dad," Frank said regarding the peanut brittle, proud to hear that Greer liked it, Greer who never liked anything. Maybe she was starting to have a little fun after everything she'd been through, which was good for her. Eirene, on the other hand, hadn't taken any of the peanut brittle. It was probably because she was so focused.

"My dad and I are the cooks in the family, actually." Figaro mostly ate cheese from what Frank could tell.

"But, I thought the essay was supposed to be about history of it or how it's enchanted, depending." Depending if you wanted credit for History of Magic or Charms class. "I'll do both probably, because why not? Did you know the inscription - you know, the backwards writing at the top - apparently that's not original? The whole frame is relatively recent, from when it came to England, actually." (He'd read this on the third plaque they'd passed.)

"My brother's seen the mirror by the way. He said he saw himself as having goat legs and a bathtub full of cottage cheese."

Frank realized he was talking too much again and laughed it off and casually shifted his weight to be a little closer to Eirene, not yet trying to take her hand as to not make things awkward for Greer.

"Eirene's mum is a healer," he offered. "I'm going to be an herbologist like my mum and a potion-maker like my dad."

"Yes, precisely," Eirene butted in to confirm the purpose of the assignment.

It was now Greer's turn to stare at Frank, though she looked a little more curious than aghast. Nice of him to tell her the point of it all, but he wanted to do both assignments? Was he mad?

Huh - which professor would go easier on her? She really couldn't tell sometimes. Both Eupraxia Wandsworth and Greyfriar were cut from the same cheerful cloth, pointing out her errors by writing mini-essays in the margins and sprinkling their advice with lots of happy exclamation points so as not to crush her, the student. Who was already crushed by the 'P - let's talk after class, I know you can do it, Miss Grant' left at the top of the scroll.

Greer was about to risk her ears by asking the two Ravenclaws what they thought of the mirror's history so she could use it in her own essay, when Frank kept talking.

"Actually-" Eirene tried as well, her nose in the pamphlet.

"Your brother's strange," Greer said quickly after, amused by Fig's strangeness. Who wanted goat legs? Probably her own little brother.

Eirene latched on to the opportunity to talk about herself.

"I'm going to be a Healer, just like my mother, though I'd also love to work at the Ministry, and I once considered becoming a lawyer like my father. Between you and me," Eirene looked first at Frank, and then spared the briefest of glances at Greer, "The courtroom tension I hear about is a bit scary."

Strangely, they had that goal in common, though for Greer, it was a much hazier and carefree dream. Greer had sometimes imagined following in her parent's footsteps and running the visitor's center for muggles. She'd already helped clueless tourists plan their hikes, just like her parents did.

Greer focused on the other thing they had in common, though.

"I don't want to be a lawyer. They have to be good at debating. I know a lawyer who's the nicest witch, though. People think lawyers are slimy, but they aren't all like that."

Far up ahead, the docent shuffled mirror-viewers away and waved the next group forward. They reset the hour glass and the queue shifted forward. The way the mirror was positioned, it had its back to the queue so that only those who stood before it could see. People close to the front could only crane their necks to see the reactions of the viewer, be it looks of delight, dismay, or confusing.

The Headmaster had to snap his fingers to get the attention of the students behind them who seemed to be distracted from their impatience by the opportunity to socialize. Behind the Headmaster, Frank literaly hopped into the vacated space between the velvet ropes. His stomach, too, jumped in anticipating.

Frank was surprised that Greer had a positive opinion of lawyers. On some level, he and Greer had something in common about lawyers; that for awhile their life had been interrupted by too many meetings, and ultimately, their families pulled apart by Ministry lawyers' interference.

"Who was your lawyer?" he asked, perhaps too directly. There probably wasn't anyone at school who knew all the details of Greer's removal from her family, but pieces of the story got around.

"Was it Ms Crowe? She's our family's lawyer. She got my dad out of Azkaban. She's weird, but quite agreeable, actually."

It was common knowledge that Frank and Figaro's father had been to prison as it had been in the paper a few years ago.

Greer narrowed her eyes at Frank's question, but realized when he shared stuff about himself that he wasn't asking to be mean.

She glanced next at Eirene, who looked startled, as if the Ravenclaw had forgotten she was blabbing about lawyers and courtrooms to two people who had been directly affected by lawyers and courtrooms and the tense atmosphere she'd been lamenting.

Greer rolled her eyes a little and answered Frank.

"Harper," she paused. "Graves."

"American. So she doesn't really care when I call her Harper."

Greer shrugged, but she'd always felt pleased to feel like she were on a first name basis with the witch who had not only defended her but helped her figure out what to say in court and explained things that she didn't even know to ask.

"Mine is nice and wins with kindness, somehow."

Good for Frank's dad, though! His dad had gotten out of Azkaban and seemed okay enough to make tasty treats for his kid. Greer had been very lucky - told she was lucky, again and again - that her parents had not been sent to Azkaban.

It was hard to feel lucky when she missed them so much.

"I've heard all about the curious Ms. Crowe and gracious Ms. Graves," Eirene murmured, her nose in the pamphlet again.

Frank smiled at Greer encouragingly, feeling a well-up of pride for having successfully included her. There was also a warmth knowing that Greer might understand more than most what it was like, to have had your family messed up by the Ministry. He'd rarely talked about it before, just with Eirene who was of course very kind.

But Eirene - she was sullen again and being rather snippy. Frank couldn't consider that Eirene was one of those people who would ever be unkind to Greer Who'd Been Through So Much, so he couldn't understand why she was acting this way. Frank didn't know what to do about it.

"Eirene has great plans for the summer, actually," Frank prompted. "Right? You were telling me...?"

She'd been excited - maybe talking about that would snap her out of the funk.

Eirene looked up from the pamphlet, raising her eyebrows at Frank, who was smiling so sweetly at Greer.

How could he be so nice to everyone? That was one of the things she liked best about him, but right now, it felt like he didn't need her around.

Of course, she was the one who'd completely forgotten about Frank's father as she'd talked on and on about court cases, and she hadn't even meant to hurt Greer by bringing it up, but she just wanted to feel included. No, important.

"I applied for a summer internship at St. Mungo's," she finally said, side-eying Greer. She'd better not be one of those Gryffindors who would make fun of her for having ambition.

"I might not get it because I'm younger than the other applicants, but if I do get it, I'll be helping out just a little bit on all the floors, or I might be assigned one floor in particular. I doubt that they'll let me help my mother directly on Floor 3, but that Healer who saved Hogwarts from the flu at the beginning of the term should remember me," Eirene nodded. Elixa Mordent would remember her! No escape for the healers of St. Mungo's!

"Right, Frank? Healer Mordent? She must have appreciated our help."

Eirene hoped Mordent or another Healer would attend the Career Day at Hogwarts. It was coming up so soon!

"She'll remember you," Greer stated, letting out a small cough into her napkin.

Oh, thank Merlin, all was repaired! Frank felt a weight lift away as Eirene chatted through her impressive news. He loved seeing her smile - it was so tidy and symmetrical the way she did it. Frank didn't have the guile to catch Greer was making fun of her.

It was about then that a heavy hand fell gently upon each the heads of Greer and Frank. It was the Headmaster Greyfriar to shuffle them forward, like they were pumpkins, perhaps, needing kept orderly as they bobbed along a stream. There had been a jump in the queue to see the Mirror and the Hogwarts trip were being clustered into batches.

"Go on, get close so she doesn't have to shout," Greyfriar told them all. In addition to Greer, Eirene, and Frank, there were about a dozen more. Frank smoothed his hair and hopped to comply and close the gap to the museum curator at the head of the line, making sure to keep close to his group.

Behind them, Greyfriar had words for one of the sixth years who was fussing with an expensive camera. "Yes, alright fine. Maybe your camera will be the first camera to have captured a reflection from the mirror in two-hundred years. No, go right on ahead, Miss Hollowred. Maybe then you'll have some ambition to lend to your readings."

 The headmaster continued on in this way for a few more minutes, gathering up the rabble into more orderly attendance for the curator's instructions.

All was forgotten if not forgiven for several minutes when the Headmaster shepherded the three of them forward and the museum curator began her lecture about the mirror.

Eirene stood closest to the curator, taking notes and raising her hand to ask clarifying questions. Her friend, Cosima Early, esteemed school reporter and fellow Ravenclaw, took position across from Eirene to also ask a multitude of questions.

Greer stood somewhere behind Frank, wondering how she got grouped with so many Ravenclaws.

The crowd, including Miss Hollowred, murmured impatiently behind their small group. The students in front of Greer shifted slightly, and Greer caught a glimpse of the older student currently facing the mirror. His face was reddening, and he shoved his hands in his pockets and stormed off.

"I guess his father didn't pack him any peanut brittle," she mumbled at Frank, jerking her thumb at the retreating student.

Eirene stopped paying attention to the curator long enough to look at Frank and Greer, straining to hear what Greer had just said.

And in that moment, the curator lifted her hands in the air to quiet the students. She smiled at one of the students and gestured to the empty space before the mirror.[1]

1.	Could be meant for Frank or anyone!

Frank was the first of the three. His eyes went wide and his stomach did a flip. For some reason, it had not occurred to him until just now that they must all view the Mirror one at a time. Alone. The sudden flush of anxiety and adrenaline felt like a combination of having got his Hogwarts letter and waiting to hear what would happen to his father, like ... sweet doom or bittersweet fate.

He wiped his palms on his shirt and adjusted his bag's strap on his shoulder. He gave a little wave to the other students who were no doubt growing impatient for their turn. Someone coughed, "smellaphix!" but Frank paid the immature nickname no mind. He approached the Mirror which was far bigger up close. It loomed in its ornate dark-wood frame. Frank had to skirt around the velvet rope. There were little brass footprints settled into the marble to show you where to stand. The whole time he approached, he managed to avoid looking into the glass, it wasn't until his feet were positioned that he looked up.

Frank saw ... himself. His outfit, his blonde hair that had been mussed by the professor just now, the brown school bag slung across his chest. Behind his reflection wasn't the grand hall of the museum, but a warm wooden space with the wrought iron balcony winding above - it was his family's shop filled to the brim with all the finest ingredients and potions. His reflection waved at him and Frank couldn't help but smile. It was like a photo, but it was real eye contact. He lifted his hand to wave back, then realized that everyone would see him waving stupidly at a mirror.

He let his hand drop to his bag and only then did he look fully at who was standing next to his happiest reflection. It was another boy that Frank didn't recognize and truth be told Frank would not be able to recognize him if he saw him again, as if he were completely anonymous, as if he only imagined he was seeing him. But he was handsome and Frank felt a fluttering in his stomach. Looking down, he saw they were holding hands.

Frank felt a new pang this time, not of doom, but of unexpected comfort. He didn't know how long he stood there, but presently he was guided gently away to wait on the other side.

Yeah. He needed to come up with something else to tell Eirene.

When Frank finally left, Eirene walked onto the scene as soon as the guide happened to look at her. Frank had followed his own internal guidance, keeping his eyes off the mirror until he'd found the right place to stand.

But Eirene only had eyes for her own reflection.

She walked quickly to stand upon the brass footprints on the marble floor, and as she walked her reflection changed, growing a little taller, a little older, her hair a little glossier, her shoulders just the same as they were now - rolled back with perfect posture, and her smile the same - wide and eager.

Confident in her place in the world.

As she settled and turned to face the mirror fully, her clothing changed too. She wore her school uniform of blue and bronze, perfectly pressed, and on her blazer she sported a prefect badge. Those closest to her - Noriko and Frank - formed a trio of prefects with Eirene in the center. A cluster of supportive Ravenclaws stood behind her, Tim and Cosima and even a Gryffindor or two - Lucinda! And oh this was embarrassing - Mairead, looking awed.

Eirene ignored that detail and saw that her blazer kept sporting more and more club leader pins, pins for Herbology and Potions and History, and though her mirror self knew better than to get near the Dueling club, there was Professor Storm among her adoring professors, looking at least like he didn't want to murder her.

And then Headmaster Greyfriar was awarding her the Head Girl badge, and the reflection flickered, showing Frank as Head Boy beside her, then Noriko as Head Girl, then Frank, then Noriko. Mirror-Eirene and real-Eirene both glanced around for the answer, but the mirror couldn't show what it didn't know.

It was no surprise when the scene changed to show Eirene in front of the doors of grand St. Mungo's with her smiling, proud parents, and she was wearing the lime green robes of a Healer, and then she was Healer in Charge, and then she was Deputy Head, and then she was on the Board of Warlocks and in charge of St. Mungo's itself and also on the Wizengamot, and also given an Order of Merlin, all the while she had her own family, though the spouse beside her was quite hazy, and her children numbered one, two, three, then back to one, and itfelt like her dreams were flying by so fast, the people in her reflection crowding each other to find a spot to stand, that for a moment Eirene couldn't find her parents, but then there they were, wedged between two Wizengamot elders but looking proud as ever.

There Eirene was in the center of it, wiser and smarter, the world at her feet.

It was everything she'd ever wanted.

"Antonopoulos! Hurry up!"

The reflection wavered as Eirene glanced to the side, startled by the student on the sidelines (who even were they), and startling again to find the guide right beside her, not looking proud at all but impatient, gently touching her elbow.

Eirene plastered on a smile and strode away from the mirror, not glancing back once.

But if she had, she would have seen the reflection shifting again, growing a little smaller, a little clearer, and a little more of her heart's true desire.

Greer scrunched her nose as she watched the guide pull Eirene away. Ravenclaws! That wouldn't be Greer. She'd glance at the mirror for ten seconds, tops, and then she'd be done, and she could tell the Headmaster that she'd done it, just in case it affected her stupid extra credit.

Greer walked on with short, small steps, keeping her gaze on the floor where so many smudges and shoeprints shone on the marble. She was nothing special in the sea of students who had gone before her and would go next.

Just the way she liked it.

Much like Frank had, Greer found the brass footprints, and unlike Frank, positioned her feet behind the prints, giving herself a bit more distance. She looked up.

Her breath caught in her throat.

She was home.

Not home-home, not the home she'd lived in with her parents and brother, but home in the woods in Aberfoyle, where the large fairy tree guarded the hill. The sun was bright in the sky and gave no indication of what the night might bring.

Oh no. Why here? Wait, how many seconds had passed? She'd promised herself not to look too long. Had it been a few seconds? Three? Five?

Five, Greer started in her head.

And yet, her reflection looked almost the same as she did now. Her reflection wore summer clothes, not spring. Her mass of curly hair was a mess. Her jaw lifted and she didn't smile. She just peered at Greer with a little squint of her eyes.

Behind the tree stood her parents, sure. On a tree branch above her sat her little brother, his legs swinging among the cloth wishes tied to the branches. Sure. Greer didn't look at them, at what she already knew. She looked at her mirror image's leg. A pink and puffy scar shone, stretching from her knee to her calf, healed but ever present, always there.

Greer took a small step away from the mirror. How many seconds had it been? Ten? She didn't want to be here, looking like herself. Why here?

The tree began to grow.

The tips of the branches crept up into the sky, and the white ribbons tied to them burst into colorful flowers, and the tree grew into a flowered canopy that circled the sun.

On the hill, the roots of the tree curved out, cradling the hill itself, and the grass peeled away to show the dirt and the secret door leading to the den where Greer had spent so many full moons. The door of the den creaked open. Real-Greer stared, hunching her shoulders and crossing her arms. Stupid mirror.

Her reflection remained beside the door, brave Greer simply looking down into the tunnel, and then extending her hand.

An old, gnarled hand took her hand.

An older muggle man stepped out.

He stood in front of the fairy tree, in its shadow, his feet rooted to the ground. He let go of her hand and smiled down at mirror-Greer, who smiled back. She'd rarely spoken to him in town when he'd been alive, but she'd always remember his face. He wore a yellow raincoat and carried fishing gear. He looked out to where real-Greer was staring, saw tears pricking her eyes, and his smile faded.

He bent his head and outstretched his hands, and it didn't matter that he couldn't do magic. A wind blew around the tree, and it picked up the flowers that had once been wishes, and it carried them on the wind to gently touch the edge of the woods where real-Greer imagined she stood.

How many seconds had it been? Twenty? Thirty? So many more.

Setting her face into a scowl, Greer turned on her heel and stomped away from the mirror, her hands trembling. She imagined the wind at her back, the wishes in the air. They were meant for her. His forgiveness, too.

Wishing was a cruel thing, and she wouldn't spend another second on it.