Kindness used to be a contagious nicety in her life.
When she was kind to herself, not only it was reflected in her periphery but her own self also felt more at peace while doing whatever that sparked her lifelong interest. Bringing her wondrous thoughts and fantasies on paper was one of them. But then somewhere in time, she turned into a stranger, letting constant weakness and fear consume her until she didn't know who she was anymore.
Her books had learned it the hard way, but it seemed that they were slowly getting used to mirroring the innermost emotions of their creator. They didn't want to treat that shattered ghost with kindness.
Just like what she had done to herself.
She was unable to write anything on the blank papers. If she had allowed this change, at this point, no one could put her back together again.
That night, right after one of the prefects found Y/N crying her eyes out on the bathroom floor, she made it her mission to find and look into every existing mirror in the castle and ask if others could see the broken patterns in them or she was just suffering from a foolish delusion. At first, she was shocked to see their reactions.
Many torturous days passed.
The effects of alcohol had long worn off, but the shock was still there.
It finally dawned on her that all of the mirrors around her were perfectly fine, and with each weird look she received from people, certainty grew in her and screamed the words of affirmation. She had most likely lost her mind.
To add to the burden of her thoughts, one day she'd visited the dusty shelf in her room. With a pen tucked in her quivering hand, the other one reached for one of the books. She thought it would help gain back the surge of courage she had once felt while she was drunk.
It didn't help.
Taking a deep breath to calm her frustrated state, she sat on the edge of the bed and flipped through the pages until a blank one came into sight. No words could appear on the first line.
She tossed the quill aside, picking another one.
Then she tried writing with three other pens. It was impossible for all of them to run out of ink. Something was wrong with the books.
They didn't want her to finish them. At least not yet.
And even after all of those agonizing moments, troubles weren't over yet.
"Miss Y/L/N, careful there... It is probably enough for-"
The alerting voice broke through her train of thoughts and brought her back to reality. Her eyes widened at the sight before her and she quickly drew her wand away from the poor pot. She was supposed to be careful while watering those plants and now water had overflowed, dripping down the table and dampening the ground around them.
She mentally face-palmed herself. Could it get worse than this?
"I really am sorry. It shouldn't have happened. I wil just-"
Madam Sprout's hand on her arm stopped her before she could tidy up the mess. The old witch shoot her a sympathetic smile.
"Don't sweat the small stuff, my dear. I will take care of that. How about you go and take a rest?"
That was a good idea.
Minutes later she was running out of the damp greenhouse with a face flushed out of embarrassment.
Taking the witch's suggestion into account, she thought of a place she could finally rest. There was only one destination in her mind. It wasn't her room. It wasn't even inside the walls of Hogwarts.
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Cracked Mirrors | Remus Lupin
Fanfictionolder! Remus Lupin x fem! Reader "Who could ever leave me, darling? But... who could stay?" ─ · ❀✿❀ · ─ After second Hogwarts war Trigger Warning: mentions of de*th, blood, anxiety, depression and a number of melancholic situations A short story...