High in the Gryffindor Tower, the snores, soft wheezes, and snuffles can be heard within the boy's dormitory. Unable to sleep, James lay in bed staring at the dark wooden ceiling of his poster bed. With the bed-curtains drawn the dim moonlight was not able to sneak into the bed area. Time trickled by impossibly slow and yet the night did not seem to pass by any faster.
Tired of tossing and turning all night long, James finally sat up. His long hair hung loosely over his shoulders. He reflexively grabbed a hair tie and the wand that he kept under his pillow, before pulling his hair back. Carefully sliding the bed curtains open, he slipped into cold bed slippers on the floor next to his bed. Before standing up, he remained sitting on the side of the bed listening.
Faint moonlight streams through the windows allowing him to see enough in the dark. The other three bed curtains are drawn telling him that Sirius, Peter, and Remus are all still sound asleep in their beds. The snuffles of Sirius, Peter's wheezes, and Remus's snores fill the dormitory. Used to his friends' sleeping patterns, he reaches towards the bedstand for his silver round spectacles.
The dormitory zooms into focus revealing the banner the scarlet and gold banner that hangs over their beds and reads, "Gryffindor." On the wooden board across from is that of Sirius showing some of his favorite most famous Quidditch Players. One of them is that of Ludovic Bagman, the English Beater that had played at the Quidditch World Cup. A personal favorite of Sirius since the past Quidditch Cup. The tiny Quidditch players on the enchanted poster all appear to be snoozing on their brooms. The rosy-cheeked, athletic beater, Ludo Bagman's golden head rests on his chin. His baby blue eyes are shut as he blows a bubble in deep sleep.
The frosty nip on the nape of his neck causes James to shiver from the night chill. He silently moves towards the school trunk residing at the end of his footbed, where his bed robe is semi-neatly folded on top of the wooden trunk. Grabbing the bed robe, he slips it and ties the knot carefully around his waist. The bed robe is far from warm, but it would warm up soon enough with his body heat.
Out the window, the Hogwarts grounds are dark and frozen and covered in snow. With practiced ease, James slips out of the dormitory taking his invisible cloak with him. Despite everything, he found himself retracing his steps from before the winter holidays. Down the grand staircase and through the stone passageways to the third floor. Past the classroom of Defense Against the Dark Arts and the empty classroom used for the D.A. club.
Despite himself, James once again found himself before the empty classroom. He stood there for some time before fighting an internal battle before succumbing to his utmost desires. He had done so well in obeying Madam Pomfrey's instructions until tonight. Then again, he had run out of both the Calming draught and Dreamless sleep draught. He knew he should have gone done to the infirmary to request another dosage, but a part of him desired, no, craved desperately to return.
Opening the door, James stepped into the empty classroom. As usual, the chairs and desks are pushed up and stacked against the wall just as before. The air is dusty again having not been cleaned since James's last visit before the winter holidays. The mirror is covered by a dusty white cloth except for the silver claws and the golden bottom frame portion that reads as "Erised Stra Ehru Ovt Ube Cafru Ovt On Wohsi."
His breath sounds harshly in his ears and James nervously licks his lips. His hand feels heavy as it reaches out and tugs on the white dusty sheet. The bedsheet slithers down to the ground effortlessly slipping through his fingers leaving his hand hanging in the air. His face turns ashen, and he takes a sickly step back.
The image seen in the mirror was not of his sweet Lily or their son. Instead, a warm looing grandmotherly witch with toffee-colored eyes gazes tenderly and sadly at him. "Mum," James croaked feeling something wet escape from his eyes.
Bewildered and shaken by the image in front of him, James sinks down onto the stone floor. A part of him was desperately glad to see his mother again and another part of him was dreadfully disappointed that he could not HIS Lily and their son. He was at war with himself and neither side had the upper hand.
The sound of the rustling causes James to glance upward only to see the white sheet fly into the air to cover the mirror. "James, I happen to recall having a rather pointed and serious conversation about this blasted mirror in our first year," an annoyed female voice snapped.
James stares in shock at Rowan, who irritably scowls at him. Her midnight indigo eyes pointedly narrow at him. "Well, what do you have to say for yourself?" She asked crossly folding her arms over her chest. Her hair is still damp and hanging loosely over her shoulders and back. She had just gotten out of the Prefect's Bathroom and had been on her way to bed, when she had spotted James on her mapscape somewhere he most definitely shouldn't be.
"How did you know about the mirror?" James blurted out in confusion.
Rowan frowns and studies James, before cautiously asking, "You don't remember, do you?" And extended her hand to him to help him up,
James slowly shakes his head in a negative reply as he accepts her aid. Seeing his response, Rowan sighs and removes her hand from James's. "Really, this is what you get for taking rubbish elective courses."
Pointing at the golden frame at the bottom of the mirror, Rowan says, "These are rune markings in an ancient script that reads as "Erised Stra Ehru Ovt Ube Cafru Ovt On Wohsi," which roughly translates into "to showing or rather revealing the inner heart's desire."
"My inner heart's desires," James mockingly said to himself with a self-deprecating smile, before raising his hazel eyes towards Rowan. "I-."
Rowan pointedly holds her hand up stopping him. "There is no need to explain yourself, James," she quietly said withdrawing her hand. "It's been a rough year and more so considering the extenuating circumstances."
"You give me too much credit," James bitterly said rubbing the back of his neck with one hand. "I gave in to my desires," his voice broke. "I thought I knew myself, but I only deceived myself."
"I told you in our first year, James, the mirror lies," Rowan sincerely retorted, before turning to gaze at the covered mirror. "It is not a mirror, but a treacherous demon that shows you things that should never be viewed in the light of day."
Seeing Rowan's reaction, James cautiously says, "Is that what the mirror showed you?"
"No."
"No?"
Rowan sighed. "Ignorance is bliss, James, and I have no desire to peer into the depths of my soul. I would rather believe that I know my own desires than to allow a cursed mirror to determine them for me."
A startled laugh bursts from James's lips, before pressing into a thin bitter line. "You're right," he reflectingly said, before turning towards the mirror with his wand clenched firmly in hand.
"James?" Rowan warily said at seeing the familiar stubborn glint in his hazel eyes just before he was going to do something positively ludicrous.
"Bombero!" James shouted and the mirror exploded before them.
A glistening shield just managed to appear before them to block the razor shards of glass. The air is filled with the twinkling sound of fallen glass onto the stone floor. The shield fades away as Rowan swears, "Are you absolutely mad?" She snarled before her anger fades away at seeing the gut-wrenching anguish in the depths of James' hazel eyes.
Her anger is quickly stifled and Rowan exhales slowly. She couldn't be mad; she knew just how addicting the mirror could be. And she knew that James had seen his mother.
Taking a step back, the soft crunch under her feet brings Rowan too. "Evanesco," she muttered vanishing all the glass shards away until nothing is left except for a few missed fragments. The Mirror of Erised was gone for good and good riddance too.
"It's late, James," Rowan said, "and tomorrow is a school day."
"Mm," James stiffly nodded his head.
"I'll escort you back to the tower," Rowan offered.
"I don't need my maidenly virtue to be protected, Rowan," James scoffed.
Rowan arched her brow at him. "Do you want to add a detention on top of this?"
"You're just afraid I'll wander off elsewhere," James grumbled.
Rowan rolled her eyes as if to say, "Well, duh."
James reaches for his invisible cloak strewn on the ground. "By the way," Rowan interjected, "I'd like to call in my second use of the cloak. I'll have use for it soon enough."
"What for?!" James suspiciously asked.
"Does it really matter?" Rowan crisply snapped back. "You aren't one to talk."
"Fair enough," James shrugged, before vanishing completely.
Rowan escorted James for most of the way to the Gryffindor tower, before halting. "I'm sure you can find your way to the tower from here."
"Oh, you trust me now?" James impishly grumbled.
"I've always trusted you which has always been the problem, James," Rowan deadpanned. "Now hurry off to bed, I still have to head all the way back down to the dungeons."
James made an understanding face and turned away. "Good night, Rowan," he said, before moving away. He would not sleep for the rest of the night, but he was strangely at peace with himself. He had made a choice and he would honor his choice.
Rowan waited until James's footsteps faded away, before making her way to an unobtrusive corner, before checking her mapscape. She had lied, she would first stop by to check on Severus in the infirmary, before going to sleep in her own bed. And she did just barely managing to sneak in and out without Madam Pomfrey noticing her. However, knowing Madam Pomfrey, she'd make Rowan spend the rest of the night in the infirmary!