At night, Harry and his twin sister surreptitiously ventured beneath the invisibility cloak into the forbidden confines of the library's restricted section. Holding a flickering lantern, Harry hesitated, his voice laced with uncertainty. "Are you really sure, this is a good idea, Ellie?"
Elizabeth responded, her words filled with determination. "Harry, I'm not totally sure. But we need to find out who Nicolas Flamel is. The restricted section is our last hope."
Carefully unfurling the cloak, the siblings embarked on their clandestine exploration, meticulously sifting through the shelves with bated breath. "Famous fire eaters. 15th-Century Fiends," Harry read aloud, his voice barely above a whisper.
Elizabeth, almost as if channeling a mystical force, softly murmured, "Flamel. Nicholas Flamel. Where are you?" In an extraordinary twist, her query received an unexpected response, as a weighty tome gracefully soared into her hands. The twins exchanged startled glances, their eyes shimmering with astonishment.
Suddenly, the resonant voice of the caretaker resonated through the hallowed space. "Who is there?" Startled, Harry abruptly swung around, hastily snatching the cloak and pulling his sister beneath its protective shroud. In their haste, the lamp plummeted, shattering into innumerable shards. Filch, closely approaching their concealed position, coldly declared, "I know you're there! You can't hide!"
Silently, with measured steps, the siblings maneuvered around the caretaker, Elizabeth clutching the prized book against her bosom. "Who is it? Show yourself!" Filch demanded, his voice resolute.
Harry and Elizabeth, their hearts racing, sprinted from the chamber, gasping for air as they emerged into the dimly lit hallway. Mrs. Norris, Filch's cat, began trailing them with an unnerving persistence.
Swiftly, Harry led his sister around a sharp corner, narrowly evading the imminent figures of Snape and Quirrell. Just as they disappeared from sight, they heard a menacing voice erupt from Snape, mercilessly asserting his dominance over Quirrell, "You don't want me as your enemy, Quirrell," his tone sending shivers down the girl's spine.
The quavering response of their other professor trembled in the air, "I-I don't k-know what you m-mean." "You know perfectly well, what I mean," Snape sneeringly replied, his gaze veering towards the twins with a prescient awareness.
Breathless, Harry and Elizabeth became still, Elizabeth steadfastly clutching the book. Abruptly, Snape pivoted, leveling a warning finger before Quirrell's face, his words etching an unyielding impression, "We'll have another chat soon. When you've had time to decide, where your loyalties lie."
As if on cue, Filch emerged, holding the remnants of the shattered lamp, obliviously handing it to the passing professors. "Oh, Professors. I found this in the restricted section. It's still hot. That means there's a student out of bed." Alerted by this revelation, the professors promptly hastened away, leaving the siblings to exhale a collective sigh of relief.
Gingerly traversing a vast, deserted chamber, the twins beheld a resplendent mirror positioned at the heart of the room. Intrigued, Harry slowly approached the mirror, his reflection revealing the visage of their long-lost parents. In bewildered confusion, he voiced his query, "Mum? Dad?" Elizabeth hastened to join her brother's side. "Do you also see our parents?" Harry whispered inquisitively.
With gentle hands, she reached out and touched the cold frame, her trembling fingers grazing against the silver carvings. As her eyes met her reflection, a shock reverberated through her being.
In the depths of the mirror, Elizabeth saw herself consumed by darkness. Her once-vibrant Gryffindor robes had turned into a sinister black, billowing around her like the wings of a monstrous crow. Her eyes, once bright with determination, were now orbs of empty void, devoid of any trace of life or hope.
A cold shiver ran down her spine, freezing her to the bone.
"Yes... Yes, I do," she answered, her voice quivering, struggling to comprehend the unfolding nightmare.
~~~
That night, Elizabeth found herself alone in the dormitory, the silence punctuated only by the occasional creak of the old wooden bed. Her mind raced, thoughts swirling in a maddening whirlwind as she grappled with the unsettling revelation the mirror had bestowed upon her. The image of the darkness, inky and foreboding, lingered in her mind's eye, refusing to be dismissed.
Desperate for answers, for some semblance of understanding, Elizabeth reached for a dusty old tome on the history of Hogwarts that sat neglected on her bookshelf. The worn leather cover creaked in protest as she opened it, the yellowed pages crackling with age. With trembling fingers, she began to flip through the brittle sheets, scanning the faded ink for any mention of the mysterious mirror.
At last, after what felt like an eternity, an entry caught her eye. 'The Mirror of Erised,' she read aloud to herself, her voice barely above a whisper, 'shows not your face but your heart's desire. It is said that the happiest person in the world would see nothing but the mirror's frame, for they would have nothing left to desire.'
The words sank in, heavy as lead, and Elizabeth felt her heart plummet into the depths of her stomach. The darkness she had seen in the mirror's silvery depths, that inky blackness that had seemed to pulse with a malevolent life of its own, was not some monstrous other. It was, in fact, her deepest desire. The revelation was horrifying. How could her heart, her very soul, yearn for something so sinister? The question echoed through her mind, leaving a trail of doubt in its wake. Who was she, really, if darkness was what her heart longed for? What did that say about her place in the world, her purpose?
As she sat there, the weight of the mirror's revelation pressing down upon her, Elizabeth found her gaze drawn to the window. The moon hung low in the night sky, its silvery light casting eerie, twisting shadows across her face. She felt a sense of uncertainty wash over her, a creeping dread that threatened to consume her. Was the darkness she had seen in the mirror a reflection of her true self, some hidden face of her soul that she had never acknowledged? Or was it merely a manifestation of her deepest fears, a nightmare given form and substance? The questions swirled in her mind, offering no answers. All she knew was that she could not shake the feeling that her future, once a path lit by the promise of magic and discovery, was now shrouded in an impenetrable gloom.
The once familiar dormitory seemed strange and foreign now, as if everything around her had shifted somehow. The gentle sigh of the wind outside the open window sounded like a mocking laugh, taunting her with its carefree innocence. Even the warm, familiar smell of the fireplace was tainted by a hint of something ominous, something that threatened to consume her very existence.
Elizabeth found herself haunted by the words from the ancient tome. She tried to convince herself that it was all just a misunderstanding, that the mirror had shown her a twisted reflection of her self. But the more she tried to deny it, the more the darkness seemed to seep into her consciousness, like tendrils of ink staining a parchment.
आप पढ़ रहे हैं
𝐁𝐎𝐑𝐍 𝐓𝐎 𝐃𝐈𝐄 | ᴇʟɪᴢᴀʙᴇᴛʜ ᴘᴏᴛᴛᴇʀ
फैनफिक्शन❝ ᵀʰᵉ ᵒⁿᵉˢ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵒʷᵉʳ ᵗᵒ ᵛᵃⁿ𝔮ᵘⁱˢʰ ᵗʰᵉ ᴰᵃʳᵏ ᴸᵒʳᵈ ᵃᵖᵖʳᵒᵃᶜʰ... ᴮᵒʳⁿ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵒˢᵉ ʷʰᵒ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵗʰʳⁱᶜᵉ ᵈᵉᶠⁱᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐ, ᵇᵒʳⁿ ᵃˢ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵉᵛᵉⁿᵗʰ ᵐᵒⁿᵗʰ ᵈⁱᵉˢ... ᵀʷⁱⁿˢ ʷⁱˡˡ ᵇᵉ ᵇᵒʳⁿ, ᵃ ᵇᵒʸ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵃ ᵍⁱʳˡ... ᵀʰᵉ ᴰᵃʳᵏ ᴸᵒʳᵈ ʷⁱˡˡ ᵐᵃʳᵏ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃˢ ʰⁱˢ ᵉ𝔮ᵘᵃˡ, ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᵖᵒˢˢᵉˢˢᵉˢ ᵃ ᵖᵃʳᵗ ᵒᶠ...
