Mirror Image
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──────────────────────── september 15, 2025 ────────────────────────The hollow tapping of shoes on the tile floor echoed throughout the empty lavatory, bouncing off the stone walls and wooden bathroom stalls. In came the source of the footsteps, a short, brown haired girl, who, with her petite figure, seemed to be drowning in her large robes. She carried a pile of books one arm, a black back hanging of the other. As she entered the lavatory, she appeared to be struggling to shove the oversized textbooks into the small opening of her bag. She fidgeted with the zipper, rolling her shoulders back as she struggled to keep the bag on as books got forced into it. After a moment of struggle, agitation appeared in her expression as she finally gave up, groaning as she tossed her bag to the floor and set her books down next to it gently.
It was almost curfew and the gentle light of the evening poured into the lavatory from the windows. Most were already in their common rooms by now, relaxing or getting ready for bed. But not Darby. She had been studying for hours, from the moment classes got out until now, only taking a short break to gulf down her dinner then back to studying. As a muggle-born, she was at a set disadvantage as soon as she stepped foot into the cold, stone halls of Hogwarts. She had spent her first few days of classes struggling to keep up with strange, complex concepts that everybody else seemed to already know like the back of their hand.
But she wasn't going to let her blood-status-setback stop her. So here she was, just over an hour until curfew, her hand sore from writing notes, her back aching from slouching over a library table for hours, her blood-shot, tired eyes staring right back at her through the mirror.
Darby sighed. It was a exhausted, worn-out sigh. In the mirror, she could see each and every feature of her face in fine detail. Freckles, acne scars, odd birthmark-like blotches of discoloration. Her eye bags were dark and puffy. Small patches of acne were starting to extend across her face. Her lips were dry, pale, and cracking. Her reflection was too detailed. The features began to warp into imperfections.
She looked awful.
Darby bit her lip, pulling at her skin as if she could zoom in and get a closer look. She rubbed on her eye bags, hoping they would go away. She picked at her dry lip, hoping she could bring the color back. She kept blinking and rubbing eyes, hoping something would change when she opened them. She leaned in closer, wishing that somehow, her reflection would suddenly transform. But it never did.
As she was staring obsessively into the mirror, a strand of hair fell across her forehead. Her dark brown locks were pinned up messily into a bun that she had done in a rush as she was leaving for classes earlier that morning. Her attention shifted to the top of her head, as she realize that loose, frizzy strands were popping out of the hairstyle, twisting and bending in every direction. It looked incredibly bad and stupid.
Darby grumbled, reaching for the back of her head as she tried to stick the strands back into the bun. She kept bobby pins in her bag, they were necessary for any teenage (or in her case, preteen) girl, as they cared a lot about what the top of their head looked like. After digging them out of her bag's pocket, Darby began to stick the pins into the bun, attempting to tame her wild hair. However, as she struggled, she came to realize that nothing was working.
Defeated, she groaned and tossed her handful of bobby pins into the sink. She felt tears begin to well up in her eyes. She didn't know exactly why, but she was frustrated, tired, and staring at her reflection in the mirror only seemed to make it worse.
"I look so stupid," she quietly choked through sniffles.
Note: Darby believes she's a muggle-born because she doesn't know her father was a wizard!─────────────────────────────────────────────────────────@Victoria Blythe
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parselmouth sta. 8 • eva. 6 • str. 4 • wis. 3 • arc. 3 • acc. 6 |
Mirror Image
interaction: @Darby McConnell wc: 708 dialogue thoughtsThe sky had already darkened, and the bright moon appeared in the smooth, dark sky—its light reflecting as though it were mocking Victoria’s tired eyes. Trying to resist sleep, Victoria yawned slightly, rubbing her eyes and stretching her fingers. The book she was reading had truly pulled her in, and despite being overwhelmingly sleepy, Victoria didn’t think she could fall asleep before reaching the end of it.
She got up from the table in the farthest, darkest corner of the library, placing the book in her bag before slinging it over her shoulder and heading for the exit. Curfew was approaching, and Victoria didn’t want to get in trouble—so she planned to stop by the lavatory first to wake herself up with cold water, then head to the Slytherin common room. Maybe she would drop by the kitchen for a coffee as well. Her wavy brown hair fell softly down her back, and she tucked the strands that fell on her face behind her ear. After pulling a strand of her hair back, she tied it with a delicate white ribbon, though the ribbon had slightly shifted to the side.
When Victoria reached the lavatory, she entered quietly. She hadn’t expected anyone to be here at this hour—but it seemed she was wrong. There were books and a bag on the floor, evidence that someone had come here before her. Victoria slightly raised her head, seeing a girl in front of her, looking like a first-year with messy brown hair tied in a loose bun, and she was staring into the mirror with tears in her hazel eyes. The girl’s tears, shining like diamond fragments under the dim light, slowly trailed down her pink cheeks.
Victoria furrowed her brows slightly. Just as she was about to ask the girl what was wrong, she noticed the girl mumbling to herself through her tears: "I look so stupid."
Victoria blinked a few times, trying to process what was happening—she hadn’t been noticed yet, as the girl seemed to be focused on herself in the mirror. As the girl scrutinized her reflection with a harsh gaze, Victoria’s cold blue eyes narrowed slightly. Why was such a beautiful and sweet girl being so hard on herself? Victoria was curious about what beauty ideals the girl might have in her mind.
She wasn’t quite sure how to approach her. She couldn’t leave the girl alone, crying like this—her conscience wouldn’t allow it—but she didn’t know what to say either. Deciding to ignore what the girl had said and simply compliment her beauty, she figured sometimes a few words could be more comforting than thousands.
Victoria walked in with calm steps, placing her bag next to the girl's. Upon closer inspection, she realized she had seen this girl in the common room and library several times—yet they had never spoken before.
Victoria walked toward the sink, carefully washing her hands while glancing at the girl. Her blue eyes were as cold and distant as always, yet there was a slight warmth and calmness radiating from them. Victoria gently tilted her head.
"Ah- there you are. Has anyone told you how beautiful you are?" she said quietly. "I’ve seen you a few times before, but I don't think I’ve had the chance to say it."
After splashing some cold water on her cheeks and eyes to refresh herself, Victoria gently patted her skin dry with a soft paper towel. The coolness helped wake her up slightly, grounding her in the moment. She took a quiet breath, then turned to lean against the edge of the sink, her calm blue eyes meeting the girl’s reflection in the mirror.
“I hope I’m not bothering you,” she said softly, her voice carrying a gentle sincerity. “Maybe this isn’t the perfect moment to say something like that… but I’ve been meaning to for a while now.”
Her tone was composed, yet kind—unlike the distant coldness in her eyes. As she spoke, she extended another soft paper towel towards the girl with a small, reassuring gesture. “Here,” she added, “in case you want to wipe your tears.”
Mirror Image
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──────────────────────── september 15, 2025 ────────────────────────Darby's eyes stung as small tears dropped slowly into the sink. Her head dropped down, eyes fixed on the white porcelain so she didn't have to stare at herself in the mirror as she quietly sobbed. She looked stupid when she cried. That's why she tried not to do it much. And when she did, she made sure not to look.
That's when a soft thump snapped Darby out of her distressed trance. Her heart jumped a little when she heard the sound, like that feeling one gets when they miss their step and nearly trip. Darby's line of sight slowly shifted up from the sink as she turned her head ever-so-slightly to find the source of the noise. A bag had been set down next to her own, she could see it as she stared at her feat. And out of the corner of her eye, she watched as a girl, fair-skinned and slender, approached the sink next to her, twisting the faucet handle. The sound of running water and quietly squeaking pipes cut through the evening's silence and echoed through the empty lavatory.
When it registered to Darby what had really happened, the fact that this girl was very much real and that she had just walked into Darby having and ugly mental breakdown, Darby could basically feel her stomach turn. She quickly rushed to attempt to wipe her tears and keep her composure, but they wouldn't stop flowing. She hoped the darkness of the night would make it too dark to determine what was going on, however, the moonlight from the window reflected off her tears, making them glimmer like stars.
But the girl didn't even seem to notice. She simply washed her hands, completely unconcerned, like she hadn't just walked into a puny little first year's late night sob session. Darby was scared to look at the girl's face. If the girl hadn't yet figured out what was going on, Darby didn't want her to. Though, a tinge of curiosity got the best of the young girl and her gaze steadily shifted up to meet the other girl's.
The girl's eyes, cold and blue, were staring straight back at Darby's, gazing at her calmly. As Darby's own eyes looked her up and down, she came to a realization that she had seen this girl before. However, it wasn't the recognization of a close friend or even an acquaintance. She had seen this girl before, but only in blurred memories and backgrounds. She was a Slytherin as well, Darby remembered a foggy memory of her face in the common room. Darby was quite sure that the girl was older, as she never really saw her in her own classes. Darby bit her lip. Was she judging her? Making fun of her in her mind? As Darby's head raced with curiosities and questions, the girl tilted her head and opened her mouth, seemingly unaware of Darby's distress and panic.
As the girl spoke to her, Darby felt her breath hitch. She didn't know how to reply to the girl's statement. She felt like she was hallucinating. The older girl was absolutely gorgeous, and she was complimenting Darby. As Darby felt herself sweat, she watched as the other girl remained completely composed, calmly splashing her face with cold water. Darby's eyes darted away, now staring straight at the mirror, but the other girl's eyes also gently shifted to meet Darby's. She once again spoke, her voice gentle and sincere. Her tone was warm and comforting, like an old friend's. Darby felt herself subconsciously ease up from her uneasy state.
Darby still didn't speak, but the girl's statements brought a subtle smile to her lips. She slowly turned her head to face the older girl, who was now extending her hand to offer a paper towel. Darby hadn't even realized that her tears were still flowing. Guess she didn't do as good of a job of hiding her weeping as she thought she had.
As the girl held out her hand, Darby froze. The moment felt surreal, like she was dreaming. Hesitantly, she gently took the towel from the other girl's hand, folding it up and tapping the inner corner of her eye softly to absorb the tears.
Darby remained quiet as she wiped her tears, and there was a short silence between the two. Once her eyes felt completely dry, she looked up at the other girl and finally spoke.
"Thank you," she said quietly, her gentle voice barely audible despite the complete silence in the lavatory. There was a short silence once again. "You're..." she choked out, hesitating. She felt as if she was about to cry again. She pulled herself together with fragile composure. "You're not bothering me at all." Her eyes met the girl's, before anxiously dropping away, her sight shifting to the tile floor.
"That... meant a lot. I needed that," she said breathily, still not meeting the girl's eyes. "Y-You're really pretty too," she stuttered out, her cheeks flushing red. "Really, insanely pretty," she uttered gently as her softened gaze slowly shifted back up to once again meet the older girl's.─────────────────────────────────────────────────────────@Victoria Blythe
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parselmouth sta. 8 • eva. 6 • str. 4 • wis. 3 • arc. 3 • acc. 6 |
Mirror Image
interaction: @Darby McConnell wc: 620 dialogue thoughtsThe small smile that appeared on the girl's sweet face sparked a familiar warmth inside Victoria—so subtle, she hardly noticed it at first. Something stirred gently in her chest—perhaps empathy, or perhaps an echo of her own past that had never truly faded. The corners of her eyes softened as she tilted her head slightly, purposefully easing the eye contact. Sometimes even a kind gaze could feel overwhelming, and she understood that.
The girl took the napkin Victoria had offered with quiet gratitude and dabbed away her tears. Victoria said nothing, simply remaining by her side with quiet patience. A silence fell between them—yet it was not uncomfortable. On the contrary, it felt... peaceful. As if it were a silent agreement, the first delicate thread of trust woven between two strangers. The soft stillness of the moment eased something inside Victoria. Perhaps this moment meant more than she realized.
The girl's hazel eyes seemed more greenish now, because of her previous tears. Her soft features were delicate, and Victoria had to admit- she was really gorgeous. She shouldn't have felt like she was ugly, not at all.
Her eyes drifted absentmindedly to the window. Sunlight streamed through the glass, casting gentle lines onto the stone floor. For a heartbeat, she was back in her very first days at Hogwarts. Those long corridors, the high ceilings, the echo of unknown voices in the grand hall… The loneliness and insecurity she’d felt were still vivid. It had only been a few years, and yet, she’d nearly lost all sense of confidence back then. Every girl she saw at Hogwarts seemed to have something she lacked—more graceful, more beautiful, more charismatic... Victoria had fought hard, quietly and persistently, just to make peace with herself. Just to accept who she was.
And now, looking at this timid, quiet girl, she didn’t want her to be swallowed by those same feelings. People often saw themselves as ugly, unworthy, or lesser when they entered a new place, felt overwhelmed, or carried too much inside. They noticed flaws that no one else could see—insignificant little things, blown out of proportion by tired minds. Victoria knew how exhausting that was. And she wanted to make sure this girl didn’t feel that way—at least not while she was around. If she could offer even a moment’s relief, it would be enough.
“…There’s no need to thank me,” she said at last, her voice soft yet steady. “I was just telling the truth.” There wasn’t a smile on her lips, but in her blue eyes there was calm—comfort, even. Something quiet but undeniably sincere. The surprise and shyness in the girl’s gaze made Victoria’s heart warm even more. That sweet, hesitant demeanor... it felt oddly familiar.
“...Oh—” Victoria blinked when the girl offered her a compliment. Her eyes widened just slightly in gentle surprise, then softened again. “...Thank you,” she said, her voice warm. “That really means a lot.”
After a brief pause, Victoria tilted her head, lowering her voice a touch.
“...Is something bothering you?”
Her voice was like a summer breeze—gentle, unintrusive, simply offering to stay. The girl's tears had stopped, but Victoria could still sense the weight she carried. So she continued, slowly, without pressure:
“...If you ever feel like talking, I’m here. I really mean that.” Her gaze flicked once more toward the window, then gently returned to the girl. “Sometimes... it’s easier to talk to someone you don’t know. " And so Victoria remained—unhurried, open-hearted, held in the quiet grace of the moment, simply offering comfort without needing to be asked.