Sparks Fly || A George Weasley Story

Year 3: Brooms, Please!

"Well, Juni, Love, it seems to be a mirror," George laughed, and I pushed him away.

"Let's all give a thanks to the all-knowing George Weasley," I rolled my eyes, "It can't be just any mirror."

"What is that supposed to mean?" George asked.

"I don't know if you've noticed, but we're at Hogwarts. A magic school filled with magical, sometimes sentient objects." I said, motioning over to the mirror.

"I'm not following." He shook his head.

"This mirror is in its own special room, with nothing else. Dumbledore wouldn't just put a regular old mirror in a secret room. There has to be something going on with it." I rolled my eyes.

"That's a little far-fetched don't you think?"

"Are you serious?"

"Of course not, this is Dumbledore we're talking about. You couldn't tell me anything about him that I wouldn't believe." He laughed.

Harry had now come to stand in front of the mirror, an odd look on his face. His eyes were misted over, and he was staring longingly into the glass. The edges of his mouth turned upward in a heart-wrenching smile. He gently reached out and rested his own hand on his shoulder before shooting a look behind him. His face fell a bit when his eyes fell on George and I, but his smile came back as soon as he looked back at the mirror.

The look on his face could really only be described as the look one wears when seeing an old friend again after a long time apart.

However, when I looked into the mirror from where I stood, all I could see was the three of us. Harry stood up closer and taking up almost the entire bottom half of the mirror, and was staring longingly at what seemed to be his own reflection with George and I, a bit blurry in the background.

I gave George a concerned look as I looked back to Harry.

I reached out and rested a hand on Harry's shoulder. He spun around, a look close to fear in his eyes.

"Harry, what are you looking at?" I asked, the worried tone obvious in my voice.

"My parents," He said, looking down at the ground.

"I don't understand," I said, shaking my head.

"Here, stand here," Harry said, moving me so that I stood where he had stood a few moments before, "and look right here."

I stared into the mirror, trying to see something other than the three of us. As soon as Harry stepped out of the way, the background started to morph before my eyes.

George and Harry faded away and, in their place, stood a woman that I first thought was my mother, with her wild hair and huge smile. However, upon having a closer look, I realized that her hair was far too dark.

The woman in the mirror was me, only much older. Clutching onto my jumper on either side of me were two children that I didn't recognize, and they were looking up at me with smiles on their faces. Stood next to me with his arm around my waist was a tall man whose face was obscured with a smear or glare of some sort. Behind me, with a gentle hand rested on my shoulder, stood my mother and beside her my father. Amaryllis was there as well, stood on the other side of my father.

Even further back, more people who I didn't recognize were coming into view. A man was dark curly hair and deep brown eyes with scars tracing across his face was grinning, his eyes looking in between me and the short stout woman next to him with dark hair pulled straight back into a no-nonsense bun. His smile held pure sunshine and yet, the woman he was with was one of the most intimidating people I'd ever seen.