//------------------------------// // Mare In The Mirror // Story: Magic Mirror On The Wall, Who Is Mightiest Of Them All? // by Snakeskin Ducttape //------------------------------// “Now, can anyone tell me what requires less magic but more control,” McGonagall said in one class. “Transforming wood into cast iron or into pure iron?” Even Hermione’s hand stayed down. “Miss Shimmer?” “Pass,” Sunset said, leaning back in her seat. “Anyone else?” Sunset leaned over and whispered, “cast iron,” into Neville’s ear, and then started raising his arm up for him enough that he nervously raised it himself the rest of the way. “Mister Longbottom?” “Uhm, c… cast iron?” “Very good,” McGonagall said. “Can anyone say why?” Sunset pretended to adjust in her seat to whisper some more. “The, uhm, c-carbon in the wood is e-easy to t-transform into the carbon in the… cast iron?” McGonagall looked suspiciously at Neville and Sunset, before nodding concedingly. “Very good. Ten points to Gryffindor.” The rest of the class was spent transforming more small wood articles into metal. Those who wanted could instead try their wands at the somewhat trickier paper to metal, but only Hermione and Sunset were on that level. Sunset kept her work secret though, keeping her book propped up on the table, blocking the view of the other students, and pretending to be reading from it whenever McGonagall glanced over her shoulder. She had put in some serious concentration to not conflate the two types of magic, her witch’s magic and her unicorn magic, and let her supreme grandmaster arcanist-level unicorn magic do all the work. It meant that she sometimes had to practice to get the spells right, sometimes up to three times! Class ended, and everyone started packing up and heading down to lunch. “That was very kind of you, Miss Shimmer,” McGonagall noted, sitting behind her desk and going through some notes. Sunset stopped packing, as the rest of the class filed out. “Excuse me?” “Helping Mister Longbottom like that. The house competition can be a stressful factor for many students. It can be very good for one’s confidence to contribute.” “Oh. I guess. How do people even keep track of them?” McGonagall looked up over her paper. “The large hourglasses outside the great hall, Miss Shimmer.” “Oh is that what they are? I wondered why everyone kept staring at them all the time.” McGonagall looked at Sunset for a moment, before she sighed and shook her head. “Run along now, Miss Shimmer.” “Professor.” — “... Hellooo? Sunset?” Lavender Brown asked during lunch, with her and Parvati Patil looking eagerly at Sunset. “Huh? What?” “I said, what happened last Thursday?” Parvati asked “Uuh, flying lesson?” Sunset asked, puzzled “No, after that. What were you and Hermione doing out past midnight?” “Oh, that. It was just this thing about meeting Draco Malfoy.” “Hermione is seeing Draco Malfoy?” Lavender immediately asked, with almost predatory excitement. “No no, it was Harry.” Lavender and Parvati’s eyes lit up. “She’s seeing Harry?” “No? At least I don’t think so,” Sunset admitted. Their eyes lit up more than Sunset thought possible. “Harry is seeing Malfoy?” “He was gonna, in the trophy room.” They leaned in closer, and Sunset felt like she was staring at hungry hyenas. “So what were you and Hermione doing?” “I was just getting back from the hospital wing. Hermione was gonna stop Harry from the thing with Malfoy. Something about a duel.” “Hermione was going to duel Harry for seeing Malfoy?” “Ugh, no!” “She was gonna duel Malfoy for seeing Harry?” “No, Harry and Ron were going to duel Malfoy, and Hermione was going to stop them,” Sunset said. You could see the gears turning inside Parvati and Lavender’s heads as they mentally analyzed this information in detail, comparing it to the images in their heads. They obviously found reality wanting, and went back to whatever they had talked about before bringing Sunset into the discussion. Sunset shook her head, and went back to her sandwich, at least until a package slammed down in front of Harry a little further along the table. “Oooh! What’s that?” Parvati asked. “Harry grew up with muggles, so they wouldn’t send owl posts.” That reminded Sunset that she needed to place some orders of her own. Not only some new clothes, but extra potion supplies to practice with on her own, as well as a lot of books, as she was halfway finished with most of the ones from her current year, and wanted alternate books, especially when it came to potions, to cross-reference with for the best results. She quickly pressed the rest of her sandwich into her mouth, and walked out towards the owlery, chewing all the while. Hogwarts castle was a strange mix of the comfortable and luxurious, and the drab and even sometimes decaying, but the afternoon sun did a good job of putting some life and light into everything as Sunset moved through the halls. On the way, she saw Draco Malfoy walking with his two friends, Grab and Coil or something, looking grouchy. “I’m going to tell father about this! If Potter can play seeker then…” Draco went quiet when he saw Sunset, then turned and hissed to his friends. “Go back to the common room or something. Go on!” Sunset nodded absentmindedly at the trio as they split up, and it took a few moments before she realized that Draco was starting to walk alongside her. “Oh. Hey,” she said. “Hello. So, you ended up in Gryffindor?” he said, in a light conversational tone. Or perhaps a forced conversational tone, it was hard to tell. “Yep, and you ended up in Slytherin,” Sunset said, as she kept walking, being fairly certain of the colors by now. “You said you wanted that back in The Leaky Cauldron, right? Congratulations.” “But, you know, you would’ve fit in Slytherin too,” Draco pointed out. “So the hat told me.” “... Do you think students are allowed to change houses… if they fit in more than one?” “I don’t know actually,” Sunset said, mildly curious about that as well. “Don’t see why not.” “Where are you going?” “The owlery. I just need to send some letters. How about you?” “I, uh, need to send some letters as well.” “Oh.” Sunset glanced at the boy next to her, weighing whether she should turn around with an excuse about how she had forgotten her letter. “Who are you sending letters to?” Draco asked. “Madam Malkin,” Sunset said, happy to listen to anything other than uncomfortable silence. “I don’t have a nightgown, so I have to order one.” “Oh,” Draco said, turning pink after a moment. “Well, I’m sending a letter to my father, to ask him for a broomstick.” Sunset glanced sideways at Draco, as she ascended a flight of stairs. “A broomstick? Oh, right, a broomstick. Cool.” “Yeah, it is. My father has a lot of pull, you know? Could probably get me on the quidditch team.” “I’m… sure you’ll do great.” “Yeah, I will. I’m really good at flying, you know? Oh, wait, you haven’t seen. Yeah, that clumsy Longbottom saw to that,” Draco spat. “Yeah, I guess he did,” Sunset said, and opened the door to the Owlery, a dimly lit room, with high ceilings, always opened windows, and dozens of owls ready to take one’s mail to wherever. Like in Equestria, mail here was carried by wings, but you couldn’t have a conversation with the mailmare here. Sunset still wasn’t all that used to owl mail, but the horned owl patiently held out a leg and waited for Sunset to finish tying a package to it, filled with a letter specifying order and sizes, a return address, and payment. Meanwhile, Draco kept talking about his family, and quidditch. “We live in a manor, see, so I have a lot of space to practice flying. I’ve actually flown around muggles before. Never been caught though.” “Uhuh. Madam Malkin, and Flourish and Blotts, Diagon Alley, okay?” Sunset asked the owl, who hooted in response, and flew out the window. “I guess you gotta cheer for Gryffindor, but maybe you wanna see the matches from the Slytherin stands?” “Uhuh, I, uhm, wait…” Sunset said, some part deep inside her jumping up and down, yelling and waving its arms to stop her from talking more before she agrees to anything she’ll regret. “... Oh! Uh, yeah if I see you… sure. I’ll uh… just leave you to send your letter in peace.” “Okay,” Draco said, smiling absentmindedly, reaching inside his robe for a letter he had forgotten didn’t exist, as Sunset closed the door. Desperate times called for desperate measures, and with a small flash, she teleported away to behind the juniper bushes behind greenhouse four, and breathed out a sigh of relief. — Charms and Transfiguration lessons were actually becoming more interesting as they left the introductory parts, and started actually doing some more magic. Sunset had to rein herself in pretty seriously though, as it became clear that everyone but Hermione didn’t need three attempts before mastering each spell, but three lessons on average. During transfiguration, Sunset could prop up her book and keep others from seeing how she was mastering switching places of objects, vanishing spells, and some conjuration, and all the while, McGonagall’s attention and praise were aimed at Hermione. She had tried coaxing some more esoteric magical knowledge out of Sunset, but Sunset didn’t want to play. What was more frustrating was Charms lessons. A few transfiguration effects were clearly flashy and drew attention, such as conjuring fire, but they were in the minority unless you performed feats on greater objects. The majority of charms however, were bright and colorful, or had lasting effects. Sunset resigned herself to mostly reading while pretending to struggle with the lessons, hiding other books that she had received from Diagon Alley. Potions, too, were something she was practicing more in her spare time, although there were difficulties when it came to that as well. Turns out that there were many restrictions on where and when potions could be brewed, including the Gryffindor common room, which especially frustrated Sunset as it seemed the rules were meant to force people to brew potions in Snape’s presence. Sunset had set up her potion kit on a low table with a long couch beside it, drawing some looks from some of the others in the common room, notably Lavender and Parvati. “What are you doing?” Parvati asked, looking up from their Astronomy homework, as Sunset picked up her five potion books, and flipped them all up to cover the same potion. “Practicing,” Sunset said, and shrugged. “Don’t let Hermione see all of those,” Lavender noted. “She’ll eat herself to death.” Despite herself, Sunset couldn’t help but snigger a little. Unfortunately, Sunset didn’t have time to get more than halfway through the relatively simple potion before Percy came down from the boys’ dorm. “You can’t brew potions in the common room, Sunset,” he said, making Lavender and Parvati look up from their end of the couch. “You can only brew potions in the dungeon.” “Says who?” she asked. “Says the rules.” Sunset looked over at the board with the rules posted on it. There was nothing there about not being allowed to brew potions. “Which one?” Percy puffed himself up, and went over to fetch the list of rules. “Here,” he said, pointing at it. “Students are not allowed to practice magic that is disturbing or distracting to their fellow students.” “Too fuzzy,” Sunset said, and focused on the potion again. “Besides, I need time to practice away from Professor Snake.” “Professor Snape,” Percy insisted. “Whatever.” “Oh give it a rest, Perce,” Fred said, as the twins came up and leaned over the couch’s backrest. “What are you brewing anyway?” “Paste of skin mending,” Sunset said. “What’s with all the books?” George asked. “I’m reading up all the variations for how it’s made to get a feel for the best results.” George gave a low whistle at the five different tomes laying spread out across the table and couch. “What do you need skincare for anyway?” Parvati asked, with a hint of accusation in her voice. “That’s a good question,” Fred noted, and slowly poked Sunset in the cheek. “Doll face.” “I don’t. I’m just choosing one that’s safe to get wrong,” Sunset said, ignoring the prodding. Percy cleared his throat. “Regardless, you have to stop.” “You know, Perce, you might have better luck if you try asking politely,” George noted. “Yeah. Oh, what a nightmare, us having to teach you manners,” Fred said, grinning. "What's the world coming to?" Percy gave the twins a venomous look, before taking a deep breath. “Sunset, could you please not brew potions in the common room?” “I’ll stop after this one. How about that?” Percy, obviously taking victories where he could get them around the twins, nodded reluctantly. “Thank you,” he said, and walked away. “Thanks,” Sunset said to the twins, when Percy was out of earshot. “No problem,” they said, and jumped over the backrest to sit at either side of her. “What happens if I add this?” Fred said, and reached for some nettles. Sunset sighed, but noticed that a part of her didn’t mind all that much. — Sunset continued exploring the castle, now during lunch while many were busy eating, trying to get a feeling for who patrolled where and which floors were most empty at which times during the week. “What are you doing here!?” roared an angry voice behind Sunset. Sunset wasn’t surprised, as Filch’s scent announced his approach from a great distance, and lingered for many minutes after he was gone. “Looking around,” Sunset calmly said. “Oh yes? What for?” Filch said, leaning in and boring his nasty little eyes into Sunset, or did his best in any case. “I want to know the layout of the castle.” “Oh yeah!? Thought you’d sneak into the forbidden parts of the castle, didn’t you?” Filch growled, making another valiant attempt at intimidating the young girl in front of him. “No I’m planning on staying far away from your quarters, thank you,” Sunset said, raising one eyebrow at Filch, Filch hesitated, his gleefully malevolent sneer had changed to simply malevolent. Clearly, young students not being afraid of him was not according to script. “You just get back to your common room, and if I ever see you here again…” Sunset bobbed her head back and forth, as if she was weighing his words. “If you insist, but first we should go see Professor Sprout and tell her that you’re overriding her job as an educator, and then I shall have a written document, signed by you, where you explain your motivation to keep me from my education.” Filch looked like he was going to crack his remaining teeth, when a cheerful voice called out from behind them. “Oh, hello there, Argus, and Miss Shimmer,” said Professor Flitwick, as he walked down the corridor. “Hello, professor,” Sunset said, cheerfully. “What are you talking about if I may ask?” “This ‘ere first year was snoopin’ around,” Filch said, pointing a thumb over his shoulder towards Sunset. “True, but that’s an unflattering way to describe it,” Sunset noted. “And the old man here was assaulting me with his breath.” Filch’s face twisted even further as his sneer intensified. “You better shut yer mouth or I’ll lock you in the dungeons and throw away the key.” “A wasted gesture,” Sunset noted, before Flitwick jumped in. “Now now, Argus, we’re all friends here. Now, Miss Shimmer, you need to get to class soon, correct?” “I have a few minutes, but yes, herbology.” “I’m headed outdoors myself. Perhaps you’d like to keep me company?” “Since you so kindly offer,” Sunset said, and the two of them left Filch glaring at their necks. “You shouldn’t antagonize Mister Filch,” Flitwick noted, but without any real accusation in his voice. “Indeed, and I haven’t,” Sunset pointed out, walking slowly enough so that Flitwick didn’t have to jog to keep up. “He was the one doing the antagonizing, I was nothing but respectful.” Flitwick sighed. “Yes, he was, wasn’t he? I could argue that you were handing him rope to hoist himself with, but that still doesn’t take blame away from him. Frankly, you are a clever young girl, Sunset, so let us skip the semantic exchange and the details of who did and should be blamed for what, and say that I would appreciate it if you held yourself to a higher standard than Mister Filch holds himself to.” Sunset looked at Flitwick, surprised by the straightforwardness of his request. In a sense it was not a reasonable request, but it was phrased very politely. “That might be difficult, but if I avoid him, that problem will be bypassed.” Flitwick chuckled, as they moved outside with a trickle of students who were also moving towards the greenhouses. “That will be keeping with a school tradition of sorts. Very well. Run along now, Miss Shimmer.” “Professor,” Sunset said, and walked towards class. — Herbology went as usual- Ron Weasley was an oaf, Harry Potter only slightly better, Hermione Granger was flustered that book reading only helped so much, the other girls screeched and squirmed every time something interesting happened, and Neville Longbottom was without a question the best in class. The flesh-eating plants they were handling were very young, and very few of them could bite through their protective gloves. In fact, they looked pretty harmless, cooing and looking happy when petted right, but Ron still managed to get one stuck to his thumb. Professor Sprout gave Neville five points to Gryffindor for removing the plant from Ron without damaging it as she bandaged Ron’s thumb. As Sunset looked at the scene unfurling, one of them chomped down on the side of her wrist, but she managed to keep from yelping in surprise. Later, during lunch, Sunset was dabbing the small wound with a napkin, curious and a little disturbed about the sight. Not that a tiny wound like that worried her, but it didn’t look like she was used to. The little plant had drawn blood. It was red. She dabbed her finger against the wound, and tasted it. It didn’t taste different than she expected. “Sunset? Are you okay?” Harry asked. Her behavior obviously seemed weird to them. “Huh? Oh, yeah, sure. I’m fine,” Sunset said, and finished her toast. “Well we’d better get going,” Ron said. “Don’t want to be late for history of magic.” “Actually, I kinda do,” Harry noted “Yeah I guess so. Doubt Binns would even notice,” Ron scoffed. Ronald had a point. As Sunset walked down the hallways towards Professor Binns’ classroom, she improved a little spell to create an invisible shield which muffled the sounds coming from one general direction. It did wonders to keep her from having to listen to the ghost’s droning voice. Unfortunately, the subject was still extraordinarily boring. Actually, that wasn’t true. History could be very interesting, it’s just that her textbook was an incredibly boring one. It certainly didn’t measure up to having one of the central figures behind so much history close to hoof, willing to answer questions. What was going through the mind of the highest political figure in the land as they signed important, long-lasting treaties? Well, for Sunset, Celestia had always been there, ready to answer, often with a playful little wink. — Decades of being a teacher had honed Minerva McGonagall’s senses to spot things amiss to a razor sharpness. As she walked down the great hall, on her way to teach the third years, she turned her head to look at the vacant seats of her house’s table, and spotted a discarded napkin. She had very nearly missed it. She picked it up and inspected it, and a shiver ran down her spine. Her gaze swept across the great hall, a quarter filled with casually chatting students, eating, some of them studying. Everything looked normal. Minerva McGonagall hoped that her magical knowledge had failed her. That she had misjudged what she saw. She hoped what was on the napkin was fake, or a prank, though it would have been in supremely poor taste. The napkin was stained with a silver substance. Unicorn blood. — “Today, you will be brewing the paste of skin mending,” Snape said, bored, as the chalks, by themselves, listed up the reagents and some insipidly short instructions in a minutely small and very sloppy font on the blackboard in the distance. “If done correctly it will turn into a weakly green foam which will float up to the surface of the liquid in your cauldron, where it can be collected and pressed into a paste. “It is a simple potion, and one quick to make so I shall assume that even the simplest of you will be able to succeed.” “This also means that you will work by yourselves,” he said, smirking at Parvati and Lavender who had started shuffling towards Sunset, knowing that she had already perfected it. “Begin.” Sunset shrugged, and read through the instructions again, when inspiration struck her. She arranged the reagents carefully, the nettles, the salt, and ground up leeches, but she changed one small detail. Instead of using a silver knife to shave flakes of beeswax with, she used a copper knife. She kept everything else the same, and paid extra close attention to how it differed from how it had turned out when practicing on her own. As she stirred, she looked around to see how others were faring. Only Neville seemed to lack confidence in his potion, while Hermione’s was already shaping up to perfectly fit the description in the book. Sunset’s own turned out to look weak, with only small amounts floating to the top, like most others in the class, with Snape floating among the students and berating them. Sunset studied her potion closely in fascination, brought up her notebook, and started meticulously logging the results. She didn’t know exactly what to make of it, but it was an interesting result nonetheless, which she felt would deepen her understanding of potion-making in the end. “Miss Shimmer, you used a copper knife to shave the beeswax, didn’t you?” “Uhuh,” she said, only paying the most bare of attention to Snape, as she looked at foam that struggled to stay afloat, fascinated. “Shimmer, I will have your attention!” Snape barked. “Mmmm… uh, yeah, sure, you got it.” Snape glared at Sunset for a moment longer, before he drew his wand, and Sunset brought up an invisible shield around herself, still focusing on her potion. If he threw the first punch, he’d be in for a surprise. “Then the results will be less voluminous and of reduced effect, and you have failed,” Snape said, and waved his wand. Very unceremoniously, the concoction vanished, leaving Sunset with an empty cauldron. She looked up at Snape, radiating disapproval at his colossal stupidity. “I. Was. Studying. That.” “The potion failed, Miss Shimmer, and I removed it, you will have to start over.” Sunset had had enough. She had shown Snape far more respect than she should have, but this was too much. She could contain her disdain for Snape in that his physical form would leave the classroom in one piece, but his ego should be… no, needed to be destroyed. “Wow, yeah, start over. That’s so smart. You’re really earning your salary, professor. Can I leave early today? I need to go up to talk to the headmaster and recommend he gives you a raise.” To Sunset’s immense satisfaction, Snape’s smirk vanished, and he leaned down towards Sunset’s face, but retreated again when Sunset did the same. His expression instead became sickly sweet. “Detention, Shimmer, you will be in this classroom Tuesday evening at eight.” Sunset simply shook her head at the thought that he could force her to do anything, and went back to studying potions. She felt the gazes of her classmates, and looked up to see them staring at her with wide eyes and shocked smiles. All the boys except Neville quietly mouthed the word, “brilliant,” along with some expletives mixed in. A surprised Sunset couldn’t help but scoff in amusement. — Sunset walked behind Filch, as he stalked through the corridors. A trio of second year Ravenclaw girls looking through a magazine were some of the victims of his foul mood, as he yelled at them for loitering. Sunset raised her arms and yawned loudly. Neither Filch, nor the other girls, had seen her. To wizards, illusion magics were a subset of charms, rather than a discipline of itself. It had the same advantages and disadvantages that all wand magic had, with the further setback of being… not quite underdeveloped, but close to it, in Sunset’s mind. Satisfied that her spells that made people ignore her were just as effective here as back home, Sunset set to wandering the castle some more, looking for a really good spot for practicing some more flashy magic. It was either that or try and teleport far away to some lonely mountain top or something, as she had scanned through her intermediately advanced spellbooks for some fire magic. Can’t be a proper wizard, or witch, as this world called her, without knowing how to shoot fireballs. The castle had so many rooms, and it was strange how many of them were actually in use, which is why it was a doubly good thing that her illusion magics were fully functional. Some were used in classes of course, but some were meeting-rooms for the ghosts, some were storage for dark creatures that Quirrell hadn’t deigned to show them, one was not a classroom, but the office of some teacher Sunset hadn’t met yet. In one, however, there were tables and chairs stacked on top of each other in the corner, and a large mirror, its surface surrounded by ornate silver, in a corner. It was old and weathered, but with some proper care and polish it looked as if it could be restored to pristine condition. What was really intriguing about it for Sunset though, was that it was magic. Very magic. Sunset slowly approached it, reading the inscription above the glass. ‘Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi’ The strange phrase gave Sunset pause for a few moments, before she figured out the puzzle. “Heh… my heart’s desire, eh?” she said, and looked into the mirror. Her mirror image stood in front of her, a small, confident smirk on her face. Sunset looked on in fascination as fiery red and yellow wings sprouted from her back, and spread wide, her smile widening and her eyes becoming hungry for more. A radiant light surrounded her, and Sunset knew that the power was coursing through her mirror image, absolute tempests of magic, oceans of power, and control to match. Then her smile fell away, as a tall, and stunningly beautiful woman stood behind her. She was dressed in a white silk toga, with a golden tiara, and a lustrous, radiant and rainbow-colored mane of hair, reaching down to her knees. Through the mirror, she locked eyes with the real Sunset, and gave a proud smile, completely unabashed by the tears gathering in her eyes. Sunset tried glowering at her mentor through the image, but couldn’t manage anything other than a wounded frown. “You don’t care,” she said, in a low voice. Celestia put a hand on Sunset’s shoulder, gently shook her head, and while the mirror image couldn’t make a sound, it was still clear what it wanted to say. ‘Always.’ “... No,” Sunset insisted. “You tried to keep me from it!” But Celestia’s smile only grew more serene, as she slowly shook her head and leaned forward with a gently insistent look. ‘Always.’ Sunset stood there for another moment. She tried focusing on the wings, and the power, but Celestia’s serene, comforting… infuriating presence soured it all. Her breathing grew more and more shallow, as her eyes blurred with tears, and she tore her gaze away and stormed towards the door. She stopped just before walking out, her heart beating in her chest, and threw one more wounded look at the mirror. “You said you’d teach me everything!” she accused the mirror image of Celestia. But Celestia just stood there, as calm as before, still smiling encouragingly. ‘... Always.’ Tears flowing freely down her face, Sunset stormed out of the room, a deep ache in her chest.