Chapter Text
On the next day, the boys promised to meet at the tree in the courtyard. Three of the boys stood there. James, in his Qudditch gear; (1) Remus with book in his hand, and Peter, who looked like he just woke up, converged on the scene. Peter looked around at the group, and said, "Aren't we missing someone?"
"Hmm… No, I don't think so," James said, while dropping his broom.
"Oh my- James! Sirius isn't here!" Remus said realizing one of their friends wasn't there.
"What? Sirius?" There was a pause before James said, "Hey! Sirius isn't here!"
"No dip Sherlock," Remus said flicking his head. "We should probably look for him. He usually doesn't miss theses things."
"Maybe, McGonagall kept him for afternoon detention. This wouldn't be the first time he's done something in detention to earn him another detention," Peter interjected.
"Yea, that would be a good place to start," Remus said tapping his chin thoughtfully. And with that, the three friends ran off to the Transfiguration room.
Meanwhile, Sirius was standing in front of the Mirror of Erised. He had been standing there ever since the Marauders went there separate ways that morning. He was staring at the mirror, hoping and wishing that the image would become reality. Confession time: He had lied to his friends about what he saw in his reflection. What he really saw was-.
"It's quite amazing isn't Mr. Black?" Dumbledore once again stepped out of the shadows of the abandoned classroom. With no response coming from the boy, he continued, "When you were in front of your friends, sometimes you have to put up a façade. A little white lie in the right place will keep your secrets safe for ever."
"Professor, what do you see in your reflection?" Sirius asked not breaking his stare of the glass.
"Me? I see myself holding a pair of thick wooly socks. You see in all the years I've lived, nobody has ever given me a pair of socks for a present."
Sirius knew that the professor was telling him a little white lie, but he didn't dote on it. Sirius himself told a lie to get out of telling the world what he really saw. "Sirius, I won't tell anyone what you see if you tell me. A famous woman once said, 'You never find yourself until you face the truth'. (2) Sirius no matter what you do, that image will never come true if you don't do anything." Sirius stared at the mirror for a little while more, contemplating telling Dumbledore.
Said professor, half convinced the boy would stay mute, turned to leave when the boy spoke. "I see myself…and my friends behind me… and my…my arm around my brother's shoulder and we're both laughing," a smile grew on the boy's face. "Man I wish my bother and I were still friends. I'd give anything for that image to be true." A tear spilled out and ran down his cheek. His sniffed his nose; he was so close to tears. But he couldn't cry, no matter what. Black men don't cry! He buried his head in his arms, let the tears pour out, and sank to the ground. What a man you are. He could hear his mother criticizing him. When he felt a slight pressure on his shoulder, he meekly looked up tears still dripping of his face.
He saw Dumbledore's smiling face. "Now don't you feel better you told me?"
Sirius was in a crouching position, he stood up and brought upon a look of thought. "Well I don't feel worse now that someone thinks I'm a wuss," was his reply.
"You are not a wuss for wishing to be on better terms with your brother," Dumbledore stated, suddenly serious.
"Yes I am."
"No, you're not."
"Whatever."
Dumbledore sighed. It would take a while for Sirius to come to terms with the fact he wanted to be close to his brother. "Well it's almost time for dinner we 'ought to head down. Don't you think?"
"Hmm," was the intelligent reply Dumbledore received. As the two men walked down the steps down to the great hall, the professor wondered if Sirius' brother, Regulus, saw the same thing his brother saw.
A few days later Regulus walked along the fourth floor looking each way. He thought he was acting as a complete fool. He had heard from the second-year Slytherins that the Gryffindor second-years had found a mirror on the fourth floor that showed you what would have to happen for you to be at your happiest. He himself was lusting to find that mirror. He was almost to the end of the hallway; he was beginning to think that this was some atrocious rumor, when he saw an old oak door. He decided to peek in; he saw no one, neither in the room nor outside in the hall, so Regulus went in. He saw nothing in the room except a floor-length mirror. He approached it carefully, almost as if he was scared of what he might see. The boy walked to it and almost dropped the textbook he was holding. He pivoted his head to look behind him. No, he was still alone, yet when he looked back at the mirror, he saw the same thing. The rumors were true. The mirror showed him the thing that would make him the happiest. He didn't believe it! His brother and he were laughing! Not to mention Sirius was touching him. They hadn't been that close, emotionally or physically, since they were six. (3) Regulus stormed out of the room and down to the third floor. When he was going down the stairs to the second floor, he thought, "Maybe, I should start talking to him again." At the same time, Sirius, yet again, was thinking about the mirror. "Maybe I should talk to Regulus. And apologize for all the times I've pranked him. And made fun of him. And all the times I was mean to him."
"Yea," the Black brothers said simultaneously.