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neonlight2 · 9 months

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Love of the Grave

Series based off of this fandom and cosplay channel on YouTube: The Dandy Lyon Club

Link to video to exact inspo: https://www.youtube.com/live/LGjqHu6dV_o?si=Brkyqjrm3F5nPn6f

Masterlist

A scream rung throughout the black manor; something common to the old building. Its creaking walls, which seemingly warped the sound to its will, used similar noises often to shudder the windows. From the hidden memories that laid dead beneath the floorboards, they arose as the house took another breath.

However, there was familiarity within the sound, and it was as if the house could remember its pitch. Perhaps… it was part of its collection?

The spirits trapped along each doorway could recognize the sound as well, but found the noise wasn’t as pleasing as it had been. It was pitiful to what it once was a mere few years ago. All misery and lustrous terror gone, now left in a finicky and chaotic nature. A part of the house felt betrayed by the shift, and one could even argue that the air within the house had soured— destain floating in the air alongside a plethora of dust.

Soon there came a rumble of footsteps down the hallways. The dashing feet making the floor squeak, as another, well favored, voice followed.

“Sirius, you’ve scared her away!”

The feet halted, being replaced with the second, far more boisterous voice in the otherwise empty abode. “Oh! I’m sorry, but she bloody scared me!”

The heir— the only acknowledged heir anyhow— of the Black household rolled his eyes before apologizing to the open room, trying to piece together everything his dramatic sibling had scattered. His delicate hands making sure to relight the candles, which were luckily just spares in the grand scheme of their séance, while muttering an array of half curses at his older brother.

As his eyes drifted, he noticed that his annoyance would only grow. “For fucking Merlin sake— you knocked the damn salt off the table you idiot!”

Still refusing to renter the room he now deemed haunted, Sirius peered through the edge of the doorframe. “Regulus I do apologize, but if you don’t recall about five seconds ago there was ghost of one of our dead relatives standing this,” he pinched his fingers in front of his eyes, acting like he was zooming in and out on his younger brothers face, “ close to us!”

“Yes there was,” Regulus replied in a patronizing tone, specifically used for Sirius when he thought him especially dim witted. “I’m glad your sight wasn’t effected like your hearing from our unfortunate genes.”

“Reggie,” the older Black slid down the doorframe with his face covered by his hands. “Do you truly live in this horror every day and night? You poor boy!”

“Yes, as if our house—that is hidden within another flat complex by the use of magic— being haunted is the biggest shock.” Regulus deadpanned with a raised brow, holding blunt judgments. “You’ve been around muggles for too long.”

In any other situation Sirius would have teased him for the action, pointing out the similarity to their mothers resting expression, but there were more pressing matters.

Scoffing, Sirius glared at his brother with a playful yet warning undertone. “James and Lily’s place is far better than this hellhole.”

Not bothering to look back at him, Regulus picked up the books that had fallen from the shelves. All it took was one tipping over for Sirius to jump, accidentally kicking the shelf closest to them with his gangly legs, causing ten more to topple.

“Anastasia seems to disagree.” He remarked, referring to their ancestor who had patiently answered all the questions they had for her in the séance Sirius suggested they have.

“Well seeing as she was killed, probably by someone in relation to our family, I don’t think it’s her favorite place in the world.”

“You can like something and not it’s owners, you do know that right?” Regulus asked, a tinge of irritation slipping through is otherwise perfect monotone disposition. “Or is that too vast of an idea for you to comprehend?”

Ignoring his younger brother, as he often did, Sirius groaned as he pushed himself off the floor. “What I don’t understand is how she lived so long.” He admitted, flicking salt off the skin peaking below his cropped Bowie tee.

“Because she was a Hufflepuff?”

“Well, that, and she was a lesbian.” Sirius replied with a click of his tongue, waiting for his brothers reaction.

“So?”

Furrowing his eyebrows, Sirius gaped at his brother like he was a mad man. “So?! Our family is the definition of traditional Reggie or have you not noticed because your too busy collecting bones with Creature? Where the hell is he anyway? He could be helping us clean up right now.”

“Me, helping me,” Regulus corrected. “You haven’t done anything helpful since you’ve arrived.”

“Ouch, okay— but where is he really? It’s weird not hearing him grumbling in the corner when we hang out.”

“Do you remember which one fell first?” Regulus asked, piling together the pieces of literature. He could have sworn it was green, but that didn’t slim down his choices much. Practically every book in the house was green or black, an occasional brown spine making a rare appearance.

“No,” Sirius answered, easily distracted from his train of thought. “I was busy trying not to piss myself.”

“Calm down, it was not that scary.”

“Not that scary?! She was this—,”

“Shut up would you and make yourself useful!” Regulus all but ordered, as he began to knock on the empty space of the bookcase.

“What? Am I supposed to be checking the stability of the furniture now? Or the quality of the wood? Because I’m sorry to tell you Reg, but everything in this house is as old as the bloody forefathers—,”

“Oh dear Merlin,” Regulus rubs his eyes fervently to try and relieve the building pressure in his head. “Please tell me you know about the passageways.”

He got no response.

Daring himself to look, Regulus peaked over at Sirius. “Not even the hiding quarters? The hidden artifacts?”

Sirius just blinked at his brother.

“Of course you don’t,” he huffed, almost laughing at the discovery.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You never pay attention to anything besides James Potter—,”

“First of all, James is perfect. Second that’s not true I pay attention to plenty of other things that interest me.”

Like Remus Lupin, Regulus wants to say, but he doesn’t.

He’s always had more self control than his brother.

Rolling his eyes, Regulus caved. “You never liked the house enough to actually look around.”

“I did—!”

“Then you did a shit job at it because there’s a hidden trap door right in front of your room.”

“What?”

“Or maybe you just didn’t hear the difference in the flooring.”

“I’m not deaf!” Sirius defended himself, now growing tired of the reoccurring, childhood joke he thought outdated.

Without warning, Regulus startled Sirius as he started coughing, having hit a dust bunny while lining his finger to the creases of the bookcase. Scrambling away, he heaved over trying to catch his breath in between each lurch of his lungs. Rocking on his feet, his arm searched behind him in hopes of finding something to keep stable. Sirius, overcoming his pride, made himself a quicker fix than the wall. Grabbing his reluctant sibling by the shoulders, he slowly set the boy down to sit on the nearest chair— knowing he would only complain if placed in the floor.

When the rather painful episode was coming to an end, Regulus shoved Sirius’ hand away from his back that had been rubbing and patting in hopes to help. He let out a whisper of thanks but no more as he leaned back in the hard wooden chair.

Allowing himself to laugh, Regulus croaked out a smug remark, “And I don’t have asthma.”

Sirius shook his head with a disbelieving grin. “How do you even know what asthma is? I thought ‘all muggle diagnoses were inferior’.”

“When have I ever actually said that?” Regulus quipped, some spite hidden beneath his gritted smirk.

If it weren’t for the suddenness of the question, Sirius may have noticed it, but it would seem that he was far more intrigued by the new found spirit buried somewhere deep within his uptight, little brother.

“Touché,” he replied with dopey— Regulus dare say proud looking smile.

Straining his eyes with the twisting habit, Regulus pointed to the shelves that had just terrorized his lungs. “Check the creases, and press down on the—,”

“I got it, I got it.”

Sirius didn’t, in fact, know what to do. Not as precisely as his brother anyway, but he’d never admit that. So he simply let his hands slap about the sides of the cleared shelves, sometimes leaning toward a bit to tap the back wall. As if he knew what the difference would sound like.

“I still can’t believe you screamed—,” Regulus snorted with his head laying limp off the back of the chair.

“She popped out of nowhere!” Sirius defended, feeling especially tempted to throw another book at his brother.

“Ghosts did the same thing at Hogwarts.”

“Yeah but at least they announced themselves. She didn’t say a word. She- she—,” Sirius couldn’t help but tumble over his words as he had his feet when racing away from the scene. “She just stood there!”

“You sounded like a—,”

“As a feminist, and because Lily Potter commands it,” Sirius took the closest book in hand before raising a brow at Regulus, pointing it menacingly at him, “if you say I ‘screamed like a girl’, I will throw this at you.”

“Would you let me finish one sentence?!” Regulus snapped, and Sirius couldn’t help but stare in awe at the tint appearing across his brothers otherwise ‘ungodly pale’ skin. “Merlin, you’re insufferable.”

Staring at each other, both brothers held something of their own, as they often did. Sirius with his inquisitive and sometimes rash curiosity, contrasting that of Regulus unmoving sternness. However, this time, the youngest seemingly held more defiance than his roguish, older brother.

It would dull within seconds. That was how they worked. Quick to burn up, and just as fast to burn out.

“How is she doing?” Regulus asked, picking at nails all while Sirius continued his search.

“Who? Anastasia? Pretty sure she’s spooked, ironically.” Sirius offered, wanting to make this uncomfortable tension to disappear.

“Lily, you idiot.” Regulus corrected, returning to his annoyed facade.

Staring at him with a curled nose, Sirius asked, “Why? Thought you didn’t like my friends.”

“I don’t,” Regulus confirmed, peeling away whatever remained around his nails. Now he dared not meet his brothers eyes. “She wasn’t originally your friend. We had that in common.”

“Wait… are you saying you two were mates?” Sirius laughed. “You? Mr. Black, heir to the pure blood dynasty—,”

“Oh sod off! We talked in the library,” Regulus trailed off with a small smile of his own, his voice growing soft. “She was nice to me.”

Knowing he wouldn’t get anything further from his brother, Sirius smiles to himself after finding something they held in common, and decided to be kind. He could interrogate Lily about this later anyway.

“She’s fine. Great. Happy and in love with James. I mean who wouldn’t be?”

Regulus just hummed.

“Ah ha!” Sirius shouted in victory, standing on the tips of his toes in order to reach the ridge he had found. “I think— I think I found it! I just got to get the right bloody angle and—,”

Click

The floorboards began to shudder beneath them, sending Sirius backward with a surprised shriek as everything seemed to move. All while Regulus watched in excitement as the wall opened to a hidden hall. It was as if the two had traded personalities as the book shelves began to twist and fold themselves until falling downwards.

“I think I broke the house.” Sirius muttered, stuck still in his spot, unable to move on his own.

“Shut up and come along,” Regulus said with a new surge of energy, yanking his brother by his arm.

“When did you become so adventurous?” Sirius asked, annoyed by this new disposition. He would follow without delay of course. “You weren’t ever like this when I wanted to do things.”

Practically running down the newly made path, Regulus allowed his fingers to glide against each side. “That’s because your ideas were stupid.”

“They were fantastic!”

“They got you into trouble. How many detentions was it? Over a hundred?”

“I didn’t keep count. I’ll ask Remus for you.”

“Oh I’m sure you will.”

“What’s that supposed to me— and now I can’t see.”

The hall had gone dark. All light diminished with each step. Apparently they had wandered too far from the entrance, for when Sirius looked back, he found no difference from his front. And there wasn’t a candle in sight.

Clutching onto his brother’s shoulders for dear life, the older Black whispered, “Please tell me you know where we’re going.”

“The path is still going, we’ll be fine until one of the walls disappear.” Regulus stated without a single quiver in his voice.

“I reckon you’ve done this before?” Sirius inquired, still whispering.

“Yes I have— why are you whispering?”

“I don’t know! It just felt right.”

“You’re so weird.”

“Me? I’m weird? Says the one who is totally fine and dandy going down a hidden passage like looks like a literal death trap.”

Sirius heaved, crashing into Regulus’s back. “What? Why’d you stop? What’s going on?”

Ignoring to urge to tell his brother to shut up, Regulus replied softly, “The wall ran out.”

“Which side?”

“Both.”

“Both?! But you said—,”

“This hasn’t happened before, now back up and let me think.”

For once in his life, Sirius listened to his brother. Regulus was grateful for it.

Finding his way back to the stone wall, Regulus thought. He had gone through dozens of secret passageways in this house. None of them ever lead both directions. The first few times he was thankful, but after a couple of venters he thought it was something done on purpose. No one other than family would ever find them, blood bound magic guaranteed it. He thought maybe his ancestors did it to keep the finder on track or safe. Regulus even let his mind wander to the idea that perhaps it was the house leading him. As if it somehow was giving him permission.

Now he thought himself a fool.

“Hold my hand.”

“What?” Sirius asked, the prospect ludicrous coming from his younger brother. He’d never been scared before, or at least he never showed it.

“Take my bloody hand, I’m going to see if there’s a wall in front of us.”

“Oh.” Doing what he said, shockingly cooperative, Sirius took his brothers left hand in his.

“Now touch the wall and don’t stop until I tell you.”

Sirius complied, shivering. Whether it be from fear or the cold wall he couldn’t tell.

“Alright what now—?”

Sirius grip tightened as his brother moved forward, no warning given. He gulped down the impulsive words longing to jump off his tongue. And he waited until he heard his brother let out a sigh, one he could not differentiate from disappointment or relief.

“What? Is it there? Holy shit it isn’t there is it? Oh Godric we’re going to die in here—,”

“Shut up,” Regulus retorted finally. “It’s there.”

Letting out a sigh of his own Sirius nodded, still touching the wall. “Can I let go now?”

“No.”

“But it’s fucking freezing Reggie.”

“Just—!” Regulus huffed out his frustration before unintentionally giving his brother’s hand a reassuring squeeze. “Give me a moment.”

It only took a few seconds for it to be beyond quiet.

The lack of noise made Sirius ears ring, and he hated the way his mind liked to play tricks with him— making him think he could hear clicking fingertips, nails scratching along the walls, or a far off voice waiting to blind him numb.

Regulus, however, he was used to the silence. He had grown safe within it, utilizing it when it benefited him best. Just as he served it when screaming absently into the void, not a sound leaving his stretched jaw.

And it would appear that it had not forgotten his offerings.

Left

Feeling air pass over the hairs now tall from a short chill running up his neck, Regulus heard a faint whisper in his ear. Tilting his head his eyes closed, pleading the voice to say it once more.

Left

“I’m sorry— I really tried but I can’t stand it. I need you to say something,” Sirius broke, “We’re not splitting up right? I don’t trust this house to not try to impale me or dismember me somehow—,”

“We’re going left.” Regulus replied, leading the way. “You can stop now.”

It didn’t take long for Sirius to flinch away from the chilling stone. “Thank Godric, I was starting to feel pins and needles.”

Walking slow and swiftly, Regulus held his arms out once again, except this time he let them drift up and down as well. The action made a noise that of a brushstroke, sweeping in a back and forth motion.

“How did you know to go left?” Sirius asked, this time in a normal fashion. “And why are you caressing the walls all of a sudden?”

“She told me too.” Regulus replied shortly, continuing like clockwork.

“Okay— that sounded creepy as shit,” Sirius remarked in a comical tone. “What do you mean ‘she told you too’? Who is she? Did you take your vitamins today-?”

“Sirius, for just a few minutes could you just not ask me a question—,”

Stop

Sirius screamed, “Horrid mother of mine— I heard it that time!”

Slipping his fingers a little forward, Regulus felt something smooth pass over his hand. Cool to the touch, and soft when pressed together. A fabric of some kind, fluttering by air which only the tips of his fingers could feel.

Bracing himself, Regulus leaned back into his brother. He was going to warn him to hold on, but then he felt something that lit his body with irritation.

“Sirius?”

“Yes?”

“Have you had your wand on you this whole time?”

“…”

“Sirius.”

“Yes?”

“Do the bloody spell you idiot.”

Rustling to his pockets, Sirius held his wand firm before speaking the word that would have been most convenient not even three minutes ago.

“Lumos.”

Regulus squinted out a glare at his brother, his eyes tensing at the new light within pitch black. “I should maim you.”

“Don’t look at me like that!” Sirius countered, covering the embarrassed bloomed across his face. “What about your wand?!”

“It’s on the table in the room.”

“Well, that’s not very responsible of you is it Regulus? Leaving your only defense behind.”

“Shut up and point it forward.”

“Fine, your such a—,” Sirius train of thought slipped from him the moment his eyes reached what was before them.

A veiled entry, fluttering to a wind they could not feel nor hear. It’s drape black and ripped, as if nails were taken to it, yet the fabric still shined in the light. There was no sign of age, discoloration or even dust. It simply hung in the air, not even connecting to that of a rack or the wall.

What was beyond, they could not see. Almost as if teasing them, the veil would only swing high enough for them to see the outline of the other side. No more, no less.

Regulus took a step forward, ready to embrace whatever resided on the other side. His brother, however, wavered.

“Reggie are you sure this is the best idea?”

“When did you become so reasonable?” Regulus quipped, lightly amused by his brother’s fear.

“Apparently when you stopped.”

“You sound like me.”

Sirius vocally gagged. “Don’t you dare ever say that to me again.”

“Then hurry up and come along.”

That was the last thing Regulus said before ducking under the black veil when it had reached its peak.

There was nothing left of him anymore. Not a glimpse of of his coal colored curls, not the even the sound of his clothes brushing up against each other.

“Regulus?” Sirius asked into the nothingness. “Regulus I swear on James if you pop out of there like a little shit and try to scare me I’ll strangle you.”

Nothing.

Gulping down his nerves, Sirius bounced on his heels, whilst tightening around his wand. “Okay, can’t let my little brother show us up can you now Sirius… Fine. Fine, fine.”

And he leaped… falling flat on his face… onto grass?

“Took you long enough.”

Huffing with a mix of amusement and annoyance, Sirius glance up at his brother— who didn’t so much as offer him a hand, only a shit-eating grin. “You’re a prick.”

Smiling even wider, Regulus watched as his brother scrambled up, making sure to check on his prized attire. “You should mind your manners brother.”

Furrowing his eyebrows at the sudden title, Sirius acted as if Regulus had grown a second head. “Brother? Mind my manners? Did you hit your head as well?”

Glancing from his brother to Sirius’ left, Regulus felt even more smug. “No, I landed gracefully with the help of one of our relatives,” he watched as Sirius’ head slowly shifted to follow his line of sight, “Now mind your manners and at least greet Anastasia. She did allow us to find her garden after all.”

Sirius went pink with shock and embarrassment. Barely a yard away from them way their ancestor, with a title including a plentiful amount of ‘greats’ he imagined. She sat with poise on an out fashioned swing made of only wood and rope ridden with moss. Both look aged, contrasting to the youth covering her features. In fact, everything around them look rather dull. The flowers were all in bloom and ripe in color, yet they stood so sickly. Although, Anastasia, even with the black and gray of her being, she look almost as alive as the two of them.

“Nice to finally meet you Sirius,” she spoke. Her voice was higher than he suspected, holding an echo to each syllable. “You’ve changed so much since I’ve last seen you, yet stayed the very same. Very fortunate of you.”

“Hi, yes, I’m sorry for… well that,” Sirius gestured dramatically to the patch of grass he just fell upon. “It nice to meet you too, again, um— I’m sorry are you talking about a little while ago, ‘you last saw me’ or…”

A small smile crept up her face, but it seemed to hurt her too much for it to become full. “I used to watch you both when you were little.”

Scrunching up his nose, Sirius tilted his head as if to stop from saying something. He should have known better.

“Sorry that just sounds a bit creepy.”

“Sirius!” Regulus scolded, genuine in his disbelief this time.

“What it does?! I said sorry!”

“She’s a ghost Sirius, trapped in our house, of course she’s seen us!”

“Alright… touché, but why is it you’re trapped?” Sirius asked, turning his attention to Anastasia, who sat still but seemingly had breeze flowing about the strands of her hair. “Or are you? You did say you had unfinished business right? With the Malfoy family?”

Her expression was quick to turn gloomy and sour. “You would not need to know if you didn’t want to. I’ve been nothing but cooperative with your little seance, and you insist of asking more?”

“Sirius,” Regulus whispered harshly, ordering his brother to apologize.

“I’m sorry,” Sirius stated, not knowing which set of eyes he feared more. “I just want to know how to help.”

Anastasia’s head tilted, her brows softening as she rose from her seat. None of her footsteps making a sound as she approached the boy. Sirius tensed as she grew inches from his face, not seeming to think of personal space. He guessed in a way this was his karma.

She took her time studying his features, as if looking for the truth behind his eyes, but she knew it already.“You used to look just like your mother.”

Sirius bit his tongue, his jaw twitching at the comment. She was right. He was the depiction of his mother, many mistaking him for a daughter at first glance when he was a toddler, especially as his hair began to grow. His mother hated it as well, after Sirius had a personality of his own that is. She’s cut his hair in order to stop the reoccurring remarks, and she’d hex whatever she couldn’t fix with scissors.

The only way Sirius could bare to look himself in the mirror was by constantly changing with time. Sure there were things that he couldn’t change: the slope of his cheek, the color of his eyes, and the Cupid bow of his upper lip. But he could fix everything else by painting his eyes and nails colors that his mother would never be seen near, by dressing scandalously, and by the cut of his hair— always wild and all over the place.

“You’re lucky,” she complimented, a small hint of jealousy within her tone, “You’ve outgrown her.”

Slipping through his side, sending goosebumps all along his right arm, she floated in Regulus’ direction. Anastasia didn’t even look at him as she passed by, letting out a whistle of a whisper of which only he could hear.

“Some of us never do.”

Regulus didn’t need her touch to feel his bones go cold.

“Anastasia, what happened to you?” He asked, feeling his heart falter as him and Sirius followed after her— having to almost jog to keep with her deadly pace.

When she finally stood still long enough for them to catch their breath, they couldn’t help but gawk in awe at the vine infested statue in from of them. An Angel stood with its head down, depleted, as if weeping— grieving.

“I don’t really remember anymore,” she answered, hardly a whisper.

Staring in a daze, she hovered over the angel’s garb, scared to touch the piece. “I started hiding away my memories so that I wouldn’t be tormented anymore. Sometimes I come across a few,” she evaporated from the spot in an instant, reappearing atop a tree branch hanging over the boys, “Every one hurts more than the last. I often wonder if that’s another reason I ripped them from my head.”

Pinching his brows together, Sirius asks, “If you can’t remember, than why are you still here?”

Regulus couldn’t help but wonder the same thing. Without a purpose, a ghost would normally move on. Why hadn’t she?

“I cannot leave without her.”

Approaching softly, Regulus stared up at her with pure eyes, “Who?”

Anastasia smiled to herself, this time until her cheeks caved, revealing dimples both brothers could swear they had seen in their own reflections. Moreover, when her mouth opened as if she were to speak her lovers name, nothing left. Her lips just parted, agape, and her hand reached to cup her throat as if free the name from its cage.

Her chin quivered when she finally gave up her attempt, and she only wished she could walk away the wretched feeling.

There was something festering within Regulus he could not comprehend. He had assumed pity, perhaps sympathy, but he found neither fit.

He would not hold his tongue any longer.

“We’ll find her for you,” he promised, paying no attention to his brother, who was gaping at his audacity. “Just tell us where to start.”

“Regulus,” it was Sirius turn to scold.

“The mirror is where it began.” she whispered descending from the branch to lead them away.

Regulus followed without questions, determined not to lose sight of her. All while Sirius chased after him, tugging on his arm to gain his attention.

“Regulus, I won’t say I’m not proud by this kind gesture, but you don’t know how long this will take,” Sirius said, a worried pitch to his voice. “I can’t be here when mother returns, and if I don’t go back in an hour or so James, Lily, Remus— they’ll worry. Merlin forbid they call Dumbledore to find me only to see us in this—,”

“Time doesn’t move here.” Anastasia interrupted, stopping to point at a broken father clock, the hands stopped on three. “You’ll be returned to the time you came here.”

Regulus glanced back at his brother, his expression asking ‘any other complaints?’.

Shrugging his shoulders, Sirius gave in. “Sounds good.”

They continued down the grass path, noticing with every step that the number of wildflowers diminished. Instead they were replaced with white stone, building up to what look like an alter. Except, in stead of offerings and a monument of worship, there was a mirror, round and grand in gold. Candles leaked down the sides, dripping onto the cobblestones that mimicked horse hooves.

“This is where I awoke, and the only thing I can remember,” she stated somberly, her eyes now drained and dull.

It was as if the short trip had taken a toll on her.

Finally, she looked at them. There was no more fondness found, nor destain, only warning.

“If you touch the mirror, you won’t be able to leave until the memory is finished. And the body you inhabit won’t be yours,” she explained a deep gravity in her otherwise pleasant voice. “You’ll have to live within another mind. No autonomy, no control.”

“Well…” Sirius trailed with a prolonged sigh. “It wouldn’t be the craziest thing I’ve done.”

Glancing at Regulus, she awaited his answer.

“We’ll be fine,” he replied, giving his brother a look only he could interpret.

No backing out now.

Sirius nodded, taking his place next to Regulus as they held out their hands.

“Ready for our first adventure brother?” Sirius asked cheekily, hiding the fear lodged in his gut.

A small smile tugged at Regulus lips, and he deemed it worthy of a response. “Don’t change my mind now.”

Their hands pushed forward, touching the middle just for it to pool around their fingers and envelop them whole. It swelled around them, swallowing their being in silvered mercury, until it was all they could breathe.

The substance went thick as smoke down their throats, and when they exhaled their eyes opened. A new freedom in their lungs, but a different color welcoming their vision.

Their grey eyes now a whiter tint, and their hair falling lower than Sirius’.

There she was, gripping the engraved wood around the mirror they had just transformed through— Anastasia.

Youthful. Their age.

Alive.

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