Chapter 1 : Mirrors
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He spent almost fourteen years, longing to look into a mirror and see his silky tresses, perfect teeth and dark, mysterious eyes.
Yeah, that obviously changed a lot. Quite a lot.
When he was brought back, he noticed his hair was missing without even looking at a mirror, which he dismissed as a temporary side effect. It’d grow back eventually. When he went to an undercover safehouse designed specifically for him, he saw himself in a mirror. Red eyes, no nose, bald, dead white skin... It was too horrible. He let out a shriek. Was immortality worth it? Especially considering he’d have to go eternity looking like... like that thing?! Gosh, he looked like a snake in human form!
“Master, are you alright?!” Wormtail asked, sprinting into the room.
“Remove... Remove that thing!” Voldemort exclaimed, pointing to the mirror. Why? Why did he do this to himself?
“My lord, you specifically requested -”
“I’ve changed my mind!” he snapped. Wormtail gulped and grabbed the mirror, scampering from the room like the rat he was.
Voldemort sat on his bed, oh Salazar, what had he done to deserve this? Sure, he murdered lots of people, hated mudbloods, tried to kill a baby and made several horcruxes, but did that really mean his stellar looks should be taken from him? Fourteen years without a body should’ve been more than enough punishment.
He looked at the barren wall that should’ve held a mirror. It would remain very barren.
Several months later, when they broke into Azkaban to free the imprisoned Death Eaters, Voldemort was slightly scared about how they’d react to his looks. He hadn’t looked into a mirror intentionally, although the one in the bathroom had terrified him the first night. Yes, Dark Wizards need showers, and he had been craving one for over a decade. He gotten out, and lo and behold! A mirror! It was shattered and thrown out with the other one. However, Voldemort did see an advantage to not looking fine, Bellatrix might lay off. She was a married woman for crying out loud! And he was in his seventies, she had hardly hit forty!
Moving to Malfoy Manor was tricky, now that he’d been living in the safehouse for months. The safehouse had no mirrors, nor did it need any. The Malfoys had mirrors everywhere. Now that they were housing Azkaban convicts and the Dark Lord, they seemed to have put even more mirrors everywhere.
Or that’s how it’d always been, Voldemort wasn’t sure.
Anyway, it was a task to get all the mirrors down. Everyday, when he was sure he’d gotten rid of the last of the mirrors, he’d find a whole new one waiting for him somewhere. Also, the one in his room was enchanted, no one could get it off the wall, and it kept insulting him! The only problem was that he either dealt with the mirror or dealt with roommates. And the only open room contained Bellatrix. That was clearly not an option. He could see it now, waking up every morning with her asking if she could do something for him. No, no, no! Not gonna happen. He was the Dark Lord! He had standards here!
He woke up in the middle of the night one night and sat up. He, out of habit from his youth, walked over to the mirror to fix his hair.
“Oi! Pale freak! Get a wig!” the mirror shouted, just as Voldemort looked into it. He let out a shriek.
“Master?” Bellatrix exclaimed, tearing into his room, “What’s the matter?”
“AVADA KEDAVRA!” Voldemort shrieked, pointing his wand at the mirror. It’s surface burst into a million pieces, throwing shattered glass everywhere.
“Master?” Bellatrix asked, walking towards him.
“OUT!” Voldemort shouted, in a rage, “OUT OR I’LL KILL YOU!”
Voldemort pointed his wand at her and she ran out of the room as fast as she could.
He went back to bed after putting a blanket over the shattered mirror.
Two years later, Harry and Voldemort were fighting, the last battle in the war. Voldemort, looked Harry in the eyes and sawhis reflection in Harry’s glasses, terrifying him. Many people thought it was because he didn’t have the Elder Wand’s allegiance, but what truly happened was that Voldemort got so scared, that his grip on his wand loosened, causing it to fly out of his hand.
This bloody phobia’s killed me! was Voldemort’s last thought, before his own curse rebounded and killed him.
Then the rest of the world lived happily ever after, and the mirrors in Malfoy Manor were glad to not be persecuted and were removed from the basement.
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