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The Reflection in the Mirror (Severus)


Lucius Malfoy's eyes never wavered from Remus until he'd disappeared from the corridors of the dungeons. He waited for the footfalls to fade completely out of range before he turned back to look at Tutman down the length of his long nose through cold, calculating eyes. “Did you get it done?” Malfoy asked.

Tutman nodded shakily, then said, defensively, “I didn't know he was following me.”

“Well. It's very lucky indeed that Severus and I were here to stop him causing too much trouble, isn't it?” he mused quietly. He rubbed his chin and looked down at Severus. “He didn't find out any more than he let on, did he?”

Severus shook his head, though he honestly didn't know because he didn't even know what was going on yet himself, not to mention be able to align his thoughts with Remus's… He still hadn't entirely mastered the ability to read minds, after all, and it was still hard unless he could figure out what the person was thinking before hand. And there had been a curious sort of texture to Remus's thoughts, too, like they were from a different breed or something. Maybe it was just because of how new at it he was, but Severus hadn't been able to hear Remus's mind when he'd tried.

No way was he going to tell Lucius that, though.

Tutman glanced between Severus and Lucius, unsure what was happening, looking nervous, as though he wasn't sure whether to be relieved or not. “We'll see if the Dark Lord finds you as lucky,” Lucius murmured. The color drained from Tutman's face. Lucius stepped around the Defense teacher and up to the door, mumbling the password - Salazar - and pushed it open.

Severus followed him into the bathroom, and so did Professor Tutman.

Inside was quite dark, lit only by an eerie light cast from low-burning torches in the four corners of the room. Severus's eyes roved about, taking in the deeply excessive grandeur of the bathroom. The sink was shaped like a giant snake holding up a great big silver wash basin, the snake's shape echoed around the room by curling marble statues that lined the walls. An in-ground bath, tinted green by underwater lighting, filled the better part of the room, bubbling with airjets and warm water. The most striking thing about the Prefect's Toilet, however, was the mirror that covered an entire wall. It was an old mirror, one could tell by the way it had a vignette effect due to the fading around the edges.

The room smelled of soap and power.

Lucius stood before the mirror, his eyes drinking in the sight of it. He reached out a palm and touched the glass, a look of hunger filling his expression. “Is there an incantation?” he asked.

Severus looked back at Tutman, who was standing near to the door, which he'd closed behind him, a terrified expression on his face. Tutman replied, “No.”

Turning back to the mirror, Severus was keen to see what exactly they'd gathered there for, to learn what Lucius needed him to come for, what Tutman's part was in all of it. He hadn't a clue. He had been calmly eating when Lucius approached him and brought him down, promising to explain it on the way. So far, nothing had been explained, and Severus didn't dare to ask what was going on, afraid Lucius would realize that he didn't truly have as much control over the occlumency as he'd pretended.

“How does it work?” Lucius asked, staring into the murky mirror.

It was then that Severus realized, as he stared at the mirror trying to figure out what was special about it, he wasn't at all looking at a reflection. Lucius stood before it, touching it, even, but there was no Lucius in the glass. Severus shivered, it was eerie – looking at a reflectionless mirror. He looked at Tutman. The closest to this he'd ever seen was the foeglass that Tutman had shown during class once. In the Slytherin DADA class on the instruments, the foeglass had instantly clouded with so many figures it'd been hard for him to describe exactly what the glass did, Severus remembered. This mirror wasn't crowded with people, though, it was the lack of people within it that made it so unnerving, for there were none where there ought to have been three.

“You look in this one and see what ought to be reflected by his and he looks in his and sees what ought to be reflected in yours,” Tutman explained.

“When who looks in his?” Severus asked, looking from Tutman to Lucius with questioning eyes.

“The Dark Lord,” said Lucius.

Tutman shuddered at the words.

Severus's eyes widened.

Lucius reached for his sleeve and rolled it up, revealing his forearm and the tattoo that was burned onto his skin there. He reached into his robes for his wand. “Let's see how well it works then,” he drawled, and he pressed the wand against the forehead of the black snake, which was weaving out of an evil looking skull in the design of the tattoo. A pained expression took over his face as the dark mark on his arm slowly glowed from black to poison green and seemed to move, like there was something living just beneath the skin at his wrist, writhing and undulating like a true snake. Severus felt his stomach churn at the thought of what it must feel like, and he looked nervously between Lucius Malfoy's arm and the span of dingy mirror before them, waiting for something to happen, the anticipation leaving him breathless and scared.

Tutman looked utterly horrified from where he stood, weak-kneed.

Then the mirror began to change.

Severus realized that the other mirror, the one whose reflection they were seeing, must have been a hand-held mirror for they'd been looking at a ceiling, and now the reflection moved and he could see an old stone fireplace with bright flames roaring within it and dark, snow-covered windows. Then there was a face – a face that Severus recognized from the floo in the Slytherin common room. This time, though, there were details Severus had been unable to discern from the fireplace. The man was older, though not by too much – maybe around Tutman's age – and he had dark, almost black eyes, and a bored sort of expression on his face. He was the sort of person who might have been handsome, but his disposition made it less obvious. He didn't smile at them, did not wave, but kept a very cold, hard stare as he looked 'round at them.

“My Lord,” gasped Lucius, falling to his knees before the mirror, bowing his head low so that his long blonde hair nearly touched the floor before him. Severus followed suit numbly, scared beyond belief, but too scared not to mimic the motion Lucius had done, eager to please the appraising eyes that faced him.

“I am very pleased to see you found it within yourself to help me, Mr. Tutman,” said the Dark Lord, and Severus felt a shiver run through his spine at the sound of his voice. Higher than one might expect, yet the voice was still deep in a strange way. Despite the fact that it was very raspy, it was the sort of voice that held power and commanded authority.

Tutman looked as though he would do anything not to be there. He looked as though every part of him was being tested. He hugged his arms tight 'round himself and closed his eyes and his lower lip trembled. Severus wondered what had caused Tutman to help the Dark Lord, for it did not look as though Tutman was there by his own choice, as Lucius was, he looked as though he were there because he had no choice. And there was Severus, somewhere between the two opposing emotions of the adoration of Lucius and the repulsion of Tutman.

“My Lord,” gasped Lucius, “I brought the boy.”

Severus looked over to see Malfoy waving his hand at him and the Dark Lord's eyes travelled to Severus. A dark smile crossing the man's face as he studied Snape for several long moments. “Severus Snape,” he breathed, “Your abilities proceed you. Lucius Malfoy has told me more of the capabilities which you possess and I am very interested in them.”

Severus had no choice. He couldn't say now that he'd lied to Lucius. He couldn't back down. All he could do was hope against hope that things would work in his favor. “Interested in what about them, exactly?” he asked in a tone he hoped was more off-hand than his nervous system was truly allowing him to feel.

“I was hoping,” the Dark Lord replied, “That you might teach them to me.”

Lucius was looking at Severus with an expression of longing, jealous of the abilities Severus had, and even more so of the Dark Lord's interest in him. For Severus, it was one of those moments during which he was fully aware that something life changing was happening. He could feel it in his bones, like the pieces of a puzzle fitting together.

He could not refuse, even if he wanted to.

“Yes, sir,” he said as calmly as he could.

The wickedest smile yet crossed the mouth of the Dark Lord and Severus wondered exactly what he had gotten himself into.