Day 10 - Mirror (cracked) - A short little essay on absence
There was a single sliver of light to the entire room. One single ray of moonlight that defied the heavy curtains, draped long ago over the tall window.
Nothing moved in the room except for the shadows trapped there in their daily pattern, forever drawing half circles on the walls. Nothing but the light.
The defiant moonlight that every night, for a few hours, danced in the tall mirror in the corner. A cracked mirror that spread light haphazardly across the bedroom, distorting the shadows while creating bright reflections on what had been left behind.
The particles of dust floated in the stale air, slowly crossing paths with the light on their way to lay down to sleep on the furniture, on the floors, on the mantel over the fireplace, on every nook in the wood panels that lined the walls, on the cobwebs spreading in between the chandelier’s arms.
A room frozen in time, in a night, long ago.
A room that had been disturbed only twice ever since its master had left it for the last time. Once, by a scared but loyal servant, collecting the belongings of his master for safekeeping. Once more, by the uncaring hands of authority, determined to find anything of value for the courts. Those hands had left empty.
And nothing had been touched since then.
There were drawers left open, some garments still falling from their gaping mouths. The bed had been left in disarray, the plush dark covers tossed aside and tumbling to the floor, and two pillows that still carried the imprint of the heads last laid there to rest.
On the floor lay forgotten a pair of slippers, warm-looking, its colour hidden by the years, and a nightgown barely concealed beneath the bed.
The sound of a lock turning disturbed the room for the first time in over a decade, and the sudden influx of air made dust and light tangle in the air, dancing in spiraling pairs. The door creaked open, slow to move, an hibernating creature slowly returning to life.
Lord Voldemort stepped inside his room for the first time in fourteen years, and could not help but pick up on the faint trace of roses still in the air.
Also on AO3
PS: should I drop the banners and just slap the title on top like I used to do?
