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Fragments by Joanne K
Chapter 4 : Erised Sbi Uqsa
Rating: 15+Chapter Reviews: 2

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Challenge (issued by reallyginny):

Choose any character and write a drabble about what they would see in the Mirror of Erised (but it cannot be any character who looked into the mirror in the series).

The door creaked open slowly. A man with an unkept appearance and a gnarled face entered the room, his back hunched over as he pushed a bucket and mop in front of him. He sloshed the mop about in the soapy water and proceeded to wet the floor in an even sweeping motion.

The room was empty, except for one solitary object that stood at the far end of the room, covered in a white sheet to protect it from the dust. Argus Filch knew from its tall arch-like shape that the object must be a mirror.

Filch mopped the bare wooden floorboards, cleansing them of the dust that had settled there. Finally he reached the covered mirror, standing like a ghostly apparition in the half light from the high round window.

Filch had never been inclined to look at the mirror before, in fact he was not one to look into mirrors at all, but for some reason today his curiosity was piqued and he found himself wondering what this mirror looked like, hidden beneath its protective sheet.

Leaning his mop against the stone wall, Filch lightly fingered the heavy white material. Slowly and carefully he pulled on the sheet and let it fall to the floor in a crumpled heap. Filch studied the tall mirror that stood before him. It was framed in ornate gold and stood upon two clawed feet. Filch noticed an inscription on the frame, but it was written in a strange language he could not understand.

Filch faced the reflective surface of the mirror, prepared to see his own hunch-backed figure and unshaven face. His mouth opened in silent shock at what he saw reflected back at him. It was certainly himself whom he was seeing: the lanky brown hair that hung by his thin drawn face; the deeply etched lines of age on his hollowed cheeks; and the rough work-worn hands. But where Filch's hands were empty in reality, his reflection showed him clutching a long, smooth, wooden object: a wand.

Filch frowned at the reflection and wondered if this was some sort of trick mirror. Why would he be holding a wand when he was nothing more than squib? He had been told his entire life that he would never be able to perform magic or use a wand. He had always been a misfit, stuck in a world of magic in which he could never belong. It had always been his greatest desire to be able to do magic, just like his brothers and sisters, but it had always been a fool's dream. He worked inside these castle walls, surrounded by mere children who could perform more magic than he could ever dream of performing, and yet he was forced to mop the floors like a Muggle, unable to perform the simplest cleaning charm.

Filch cocked his head to one side and studied the Filch in the mirror, who was performing a hovering charm with the greatest ease. Perhaps this mirror showed the future, he pondered. Filch grinned to himself, making a decision. It wasn't a fool's dream after all. He would send away for that Qwik-spell course. He was going to be a wizard, and the mirror proved it!

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