Title: The Mirror That Drives Men Mad

Characters: Two unknown wizards, Severus Snape and George Weasley.

Summary: "Tragic men can't stand happy endings." A tale of four young men and one old mirror. Freeverse.

Notes: Why? *makes dying whale noises*

Now that that's over, here is a little freeverse about the Mirror of Erised, and how four men fell for it. One for beauty, one for fortune, one for love, and one for loss. I sincerely hope you enjoy, and if you have time, don't be shy to drop a review! Thank you!

{{Mirror, mirror, on the wall -

who's the fairest of them all?}}

Cackle, giggle,

this mirror's not just any mirror/rorrim,

my dear,

but waste a~w~a~y in front of me,

wait for love in this one room where no one goes,

'cause this mirror's special, dearie,

and don't you know that anything is possible?

You're beautiful here,

in this refle|ction,

but you haven't eaten in days,

and those beautiful blue eyes

only hide the ((shadows)) underneath.

Your wrists are paper thin

and your cheeks are h-o-l-l-o-w,

but not that you'd know,

because I don't show your face, my sweet.

You're going to die here,

but it's all going to be o^k^a^y,

because here,

you're b-e-a-u-t-i-f-u-l,

and here you're strong,

and you're going to die being who you always wanted to be.




{{Dear, don't you have the Midas touch?}}

Oh so handsome -

but that doesn't matter in my mirror,

because you're ((handsome)) to any pane of glass,

but here, gorgeous,

you can be someone.

Show your future, did you say?

Well, maybe I could,

but I won't,

'cause you're going nowhere, sitting here in front of me.


oh, how it shimmers, love,

and that crown fits your head so well!

Everything you t-o-u-c-h,

well, it turns to gold and weighs you d˅o˅w˅n,

but that doesn't matter to you,

does it babe?

Run from the room, Midas,

and touch everything you come in contact with.

Scream about your !fortune!

Pretend you don't wear rags,

and die alone

in a ~white~ room,

where there is no gold, and no !fortune!

Insanity shines so brightly,


so maybe you don't need metal.

Maybe you do.

But I'm not there to show you,

so die with pale hands and ~white~ bed sheets,

and wonder if this is what it means

to be rich.



{{Cinderella's here and waiting, and if the shoe fits...}}

I've waited a long time

for you to find me, sweetheart.

After all,

you're just so tragic,

and tragic men never can look further than their hearts.

I'm sure you've figured out my s-e-c-r-e-t,

and I'm sure you don't care,

because I can show you a future,


where she's alive,

and waiting for you - all red hair and

red-rimmed emerald e~y~e~s.

Girls like her

don't go for men like you,

but darling, when have you been one for reality?

In this refle|ction, you could be someone,


(Maybe even the boy she loves)

But she doesn't exist

beyond the frames of this mirror/rorrim,

so you leave me,


and find a boy with exactly her e~y~e~s,

and a heart that /reflects\

the girl you used to love.

You'll be back, sweetheart, before the year is out,

(just one last time)

because tragic men can't stand happy endings.




Oh how I've waited for you!

I have seen wizards fall at my feet,

watching the beauty


and I have driven grown men mad.

And Severus Snape;

do you remember him, Georgie boy?

He resisted the temptation

for as long as he could,

but in the moments he lay dying,

don't you know he was thinking of me?

And you -

well I'm not just another mirror/rorrim,

one that shows you Fred

(minus an ear, but cover it, barely notice it).

I can show you Fr\ed,

beside you,

touching you, loving you,

being the second half of -

well, the second half of Fred&George.

Together, Georgie;

four ears between you, too!

You'll waste a~w~a~y here,

in front of the ((Mirror of Erised))

and you and Freddie can be |together again|.

'Til then, my sweet,

Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyton woshi,

but it's really the same thing,

isn't it?