Hogwarts was deathly quiet. Not even the portraits whispered as Severus walked up another empty staircase, silently making his way to his goal. It was the first day of the holidays and all of the students had gone home for another year, leaving the castle blissfully quiet. His footsteps echoed eerily off the walls as he made his way to the job Dumbledore had assigned him. It seemed that Dumbledore always had some sort of new assignment for him.

This one was relatively small. Now that Potter had destroyed the stone, all Severus had to do was remove his part of the enchantment that was meant to keep the stone safe. He snorted bitterly, everyone had gone home thinking that Potter was a hero and had saved the world. Potter was gifted, Potter was perfect. They couldn’t be farther from the truth, Potter relied on sheer luck and help from his friends.

A small voice at the back of his mind told him that this was untrue. It told him Potter was not as arrogant as his father, that he was kind and brave. He pushed the voice aside, anger swelling up inside of him. The apple never falls far from the tree. Potter was just as attention seeking as his father, just as arrogant, just as big-headed. They even looked the same, the messy hair, the glasses except…

Except for his eyes. Those seemed to be the worst mockery of all.

He continued his walk down the corridor, his black cloak billowing behind him. He constantly wore black. He supposed it was because it was the only colour that suited how he felt, what had become of him inside. Nothing but black. Stretching through his past, his future, reaching to the farthest corners of his soul.

He pushed his mind back to the task at hand, he hating dwelling on what was inside of him. Dumbledore had asked him to remove his piece of the enchantment, which was exactly what he was going to do. No thought necessary. All the other teachers had done their piece, leaving him till last. At least he could get it over and done with alone, the way he liked best.

Without Hagrid’s three headed beast, it was easy to slip down through the trapdoor. Severus took his time walking through the dark chambers. They seemed empty, void and without purpose. The same way he had felt for so many years. It seemed that this was what he was destined to become. Nothing more then an empty chamber, filled with a hollow darkness of bitterness, loneliness, and despair.

The chamber that held his enchantments was no different to the rest, save the seven little bottles lined up in a row. He quickly vanished the bottles and the potions, tucking the scroll with the message into his pocket. He then moved onto the enchanted fire, removing it with a small spell of his own creation. He had always been good at that, making up little spells. Not that anyone much noticed, or cared. He didn’t even think he cared himself anymore.

His hand reached for the door handle to leave, but something in the back of his mind held him back. Something was calling him, telling him to turn and enter the last chamber, to see what lay beyond. Dumbledore had left no particular instructions regarding what was ahead, and Severus had never before entered the chamber himself. He didn’t know what to expect. A curiosity he hadn’t felt in years nagged at him. He wanted to see how Dumbledore had protected the stone. He wanted to see where Potter had encountered the Dark Lord.

His hand hovered on the door handle. With his enchanted fire removed, it would be easy, too easy to just open the door. Dumbledore probably had a reason for not mentioning the final chamber, not wanting Severus to enter. After a brief internal battle, curiosity won and he pushed open the door, stepping into the last chamber.

Torches on the wall cast shadows over the darkened room. Immediately a golden archway grabbed his attention. It was huge, about the height of an average ceiling, standing on two clawed feet. It was inscribed with a message, “Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi”. He had no idea what that meant. He moved closer, fascinated, until he realised it wasn’t an archway at all, but a mirror.

Severus looked around the chamber in shock. What would a mirror be doing in here? How had it protected the stone? Cursing himself for even entering the chamber, he turned away, having no desire to see his reflection. However, something at the last second caught his eye. Something red. He turned back around, believing it to be a trick of the light, expecting to see nothing but his own shallow face. He found himself staring into a pair of startling green eyes on a face framed by red hair. His was staring into the face of Lily Evens. The only girl he had ever loved.

Severus felt himself inhale. She was stunning, perfect. She looked young, untouched. Exactly the way he remembered her from her school days. A surge of hope, happiness and love, emotions he hadn’t felt in over a decade, washed over him, driving the emptiness away. For a second no rational thoughts crossed his mind. Was it possible she was alive, hiding for all these years? Had she come back to talk to him? To forgive him?

Reality crashed over him like ice cold water, bringing back the emptiness like a dark tide. Lily was dead. He had gone to her funeral, seen her pale lifeless body, her fiery red hair splayed in her coffin. She had looked peaceful, no mark on her beautiful face. He had watched her burial, felt his soul tear in two as the first clump of dirt hit her coffin. He no longer felt alive, it was as though without her he had no future, no purpose.

He had considered dying as well. He had returned to Hogwarts and climbed the tallest tower, standing on the edge for what seemed like hours. Memories of her had filled his head. He could see her on the swing, laughing by the lake, biting her lip with concentration as she brewed a difficult potion. He had stared out, alone, into the night. He had to keep his promise to Dumbledore. For Lily. He would remain alive to protect her son.

He returned back to the present. What was she doing here, appearing in this mirror? She seemed happy, twirling around in a form of dance, laughing, smiling, and waving. Severus was unaware that he was moving forward, coming to stand barely inches away, enthralled by the way she danced.

Severus reached out to touch her, pressing his hands up against the glass. It was cold and unforgiving. Lily was so close, yet she was a million miles away. He found himself wishing he could just fall in next to her, simply slip through the glass and join her in the world of the mirror. Anything to be by her side, to touch her, even hear her breathe one last time. Her name passed his lips as he gazed longingly at her, waiting for a response. She just smiled down at him in a way she hadn’t done in years, in a way she would never do again.

He sunk to his knees, not even noticing the tears cascading down his face. “I’m so sorry, Lily,” he whispered. It had been his fault. If he had been a better person, if he never had turned to Voldemort, or relayed the prophecy… His thoughts trailed off. Maybe, just maybe, she would still be alive. Severus sank to his knees. He pressed himself further into the glass as though sheer will would push him through.

He hadn’t even spoken to her since that fateful day in fifth-year. He had tried to rekindle the friendship, sending her notes and letters, apologising over and over again. She had just ignored them and, eventually, he had stopped. He began spending more time with his Slytherin friends; she began to spend more time with Potter and his cronies. It didn’t stop him thinking about her, though. Even after Hogwarts he couldn’t stop thinking about her. He remembered seeing her wedding picture in the newspaper, twirling around with Potter, love in her eyes. He knew that it could have been for him, if not for one word. One word had sent it all down. She had chosen her path and he had chosen his.

He had burnt the paper that day, feeling as though his heart had been ripped from his chest. He had thrown himself into servicing Voldemort, telling himself that this was what he wanted, that this was who he wanted to be. He tried his hardest to forget Lily, trying to ignore her voice that now served as his conscience.

He became a member of the inner circle, a loyal servant. When he heard the prophecy, he relayed it straight to Voldemort. He didn’t think for one second that it could concern Lily. He didn’t even know that Lily was pregnant. But then Voldemort had made his plans known. He was going to kill Lily’s child. He was going to kill Lily.

Severus hadn’t eaten for days. He knew he still loved her and he would do anything, anything at all to keep her safe. He had asked, no, he had begged Voldemort to spare her, but Voldemort had laughed, telling him she may be attractive, but he deserved better than a filthy Mudblood. Severus had flinched at the word. He knew he only had one choice. He had turned to Dumbledore.

He became a spy, passing secrets to the Order, telling Voldemort false tales. He worked tirelessly. Lily had gone into hiding. Dumbledore had promised him to keep her safe, keep the whole lot of them safe. He gulped. He never had the chance to tell her he was sorry for what he had become. Lily had been betrayed. Lily was murdered. Dumbledore said she that was brave, that she died to save her son. But that didn’t help Severus at all.

Severus had thought seeing her marry someone else was torture, but nothing, nothing at all came even close to the pain of her death. Severus had realised he didn’t care if she loved someone else. He would have done anything to ensure that she could remain alive.

He looked back up at Lily. She continued to smile, and dance in a way that reminded him of when they used to be friends. He would give anything to have one last moment with her, to tell her that he was sorry and she was right; right about his friends. He wanted to tell her he had taken the wrong path, he had changed, he had joined the Order.

He didn’t know how long he sat there, just watching her, in a trance, before he heard a voice. He didn’t look up, he didn’t feel that a world existed beyond the mirror, beyond Lily. It wasn’t until he felt a hand on his shoulder that he turned to find himself staring into the understanding blue eyes of Albus Dumbledore.

“It seems that she has been making quite an appearance in this mirror of late.” Severus opened his mouth to ask a question, but then closed it, allowing Dumbledore to continue. “The Mirror shows your hearts truest desire, the deepest wish from the corner of your heart. I assume you can see Lily.”

Severus nodded, looking back at the Mirror. She had stopped dancing and was looking down at him with a wistful look in her eyes. A single tear rolled down her cheek. Severus reached out to brush it away, but once again found nothing but cold, empty glass. Another tear rolled down Severus face this time. She wasn’t real, she was nothing more than an image from the deepest part of his darkened heart. He got up, slowly turning his back on the Mirror.

“Very wise,” Dumbledore murmured. “Many have wasted away, unable to reach out and touch what isn’t there.” Dumbledore reached out and touched the glass. “Or what was there but has now moved on,” he finished, his voice lower then a whisper.

Severus didn’t reply, it seemed there was nothing he could say. He just continued to stare silently away from the mirror, lost in his thoughts.

“REDUCTO!”

Severus turned around swiftly to see Lily as she shattered into a thousand pieces. He glanced at Dumbledore, horrified, to see his eyes blazing with emotion, his wand held out straight as glass fell like rain through the chamber. He dropped his wand to his side as he looked into Severus’ empty face.

“For too long has the Mirror caused people to dwell on desire, or on what is no longer there. It brings nothing but despair and loneliness, filling those who gaze upon it with nothing but emptiness. Without it, the world is a better place. Come now, Severus, let us leave this Mirror behind us.”

As he turned to leave, Severus stole one last glance at the golden archway. Stepping away, he that knew destroying it had made no difference to him. He was already empty. He had been for ten years.