Author's Notes: This story is told in four 100-word drabbles, and was written for McKay's birthday. smoke gets credit for inspiring the Bill-and-mirror scenario, from the final chapter of our collaborative story, Alpha Wolf.

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~Mirror Mirror~

Mirror mirror on the wall,
who's the fairest of them all?

A child's nursery rhyme, that's all it was. It should have been harmless, not real.

Not about him.

His face, his scars, his demons were the stuff of urban legend now, scary stories that parents told their children at night since the Battle of Hogwarts, to keep them afraid of the big, bad wolf.

But the only tale of horror that haunted his dreams lately was the one about the mirror.

It knew too much, that mirror, all about the fair one – mocking him every day since Fleur left.

~~~~~

Mirror mirror on the wall,
gone, with no sound, none at all

He sits in front of the traitorous glass and stares. He should have broken all the mirrors in the Burrow by now – everyone expected him to.

Everyone expected him to crack.

She expected it most of all – needed someone to take care of, and when he pushed her away, insisting he didn't need her cold compresses and her dried pity, she had left, never looking back.

The only one who had no expectations for him was the man who visited not with manufactured sympathy, but with sincere understanding.

~~~~~

Mirror mirror on the wall,
comfort, chaos, through the fall

They all think he is most upset about the scars to his face. Fleur always thought faces mattered – hers beautiful, his fallen. She thought hers would be enough to carry both of them.

It's not his face that matters.

The mirror reflects his chest now, jaw tightening as he gazes at the ripped and mended flesh along his shoulder, across his heart. That's the scar that matters – the one that split him in two.

Remus traced it once with his fingertips, as though sealing it himself with that single touch.

~~~~~

Mirror mirror on the wall,
lost, then found – he heard my call

"Both werewolves," the others whisper knowingly behind his back, as if that's reason enough.

Maybe it is.

Remus often finds him here, at this mirror, watching the purpled lines of flesh and wondering what they feel like to another's hands. Slinging an arm around his shoulders and pulling fingers gently through his long, red hair, Remus shares his gaze.

"You are young, and strong," Remus will whisper in his ear, and the mirror dissolves before them.

Allies, Bill will muse, don't need self-reflection. They only need each other.


-fin-

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If you enjoyed Mirror Mirror, check out my other stories at at Lumos, Wolfsbane, Eros & Sappho, and The Burrow.