Catch The Snitch

Morgan stood in a room deep in the Ministry, in the Department of Mysteries. They were standing with their hands on their hips, their hair, still long at the time, pulled back into a ponytail as they looked at the thing they'd created. It had taken two years of almost constant study, trial, and error, and there was no guarantee that this one would work either. They sighed, tapping their foot. But the only the to do was test it. So why were they so nervous?

"It either works or it doesn't," they said to themselves but didn't approach the mirror just yet. Their stomach was in knots, but was it fear or nerves? They pursed their lips before putting their hand over their mouth. They'd told another Unspeakable about this since his interest had been in a similar field, but they kind of were afraid of it not working when he got there. Wouldn't that be both anticlimactic and embarrassing?

Morgan sighed, running the hand over their face, still across the room from the mirror that leaned up against the wall on the other side.

“That would be mathematically correct.”

A light smile played on Nigel’s lips as the Unspeakable entered the room and nodded a greeting to Morgan. A Time Turner worn around his neck identified him as a researcher who worked in the Time Room; he had been here at Morgan’s invitation because their respective fields of study were similar to each other. “Although I must say that it’s not a particularly useful observation.” he continued with a chuckle.

His attention shifted over to the mirror on the other side of the room. “I believe vorführeffekt could be an appropriate description for how we’re both feeling,” Though this was not his research, the nagging worry that something would go wrong in front of other people was unfortunately not alien to Nigel. “Still, there’s no point worrying about an outcome that might not even occur, right” he added in a brighter and more optimistic voice.

Morgan almost jumped when they heard Nigel's voice cut into their thoughts. They put their hand to their chest, sighing, "Graeme," they greeted him once they'd composed themselves. They nodded in agreement, "Yes, I suppose that's true," they placed their hands on their hip before taking a deep breath, "Alright," they steeled themselves before starting to step up to the mirror.

The reflection was foggy for a moment, but as it became clearer, the Morgan in the mirror looked different. They had long hair in a braid, wearing ripped jeans and a tattered shirt, nothing like the composed collected person on this side of the mirror. The reflection's eyes were wild and angry, a sneer on their face, which had scars like they'd been in endless fights. Shocked at what they saw, Morgan jumped back, "What....?" they balked for a moment, their brows drawing down. Why did it show that? Why was that the one it was showing?

They rubbed their temple before looking over at Nigel, "Graeme, perhaps you can take a look as well. I don't know if that was a fluke or if there's something I didn't account for going on," they said, stepping out of the way.

Given the sensitive nature of what they might see in the mirror. Nigel gave Morgan some personal space so that they might behold their reflection in peace, and without any interference from his own reflection. Unable to see what was in the mirror, he instead cast his gaze towards Morgan, curious to learn if their experiment was working the way they intended.

Their startled reaction was all that was required for Nigel to deduce that something was amiss. Most researchers would respond with curiosity at an unexpected result, but for Morgan to recoil in such a manner meant that things had gone wrong, and not in a good way.

“Aye,” he replied as Morgan asked him to look into the mirror while stepping out of the way. Calmly he walked up to the mirror and waited as the blurry reflection gradually came into focus. If the mirror was meant to show one what they had the potential to become, it was definitely not working as intended, for what he saw was himself as he was this very moment, dressed in the exact same suit. “I don’t know what you saw,” he began, “but I don’t see any diff—”

It was at this moment when he detected the barest hint of a smirk on his reflection’s face, one that would not be completely out of place on his own face, and yet there was something unnerving about it. “Something’s not right,” he said as he backed away from the mirror, and as he retreated so did his reflection. But the smirk stayed, seemingly taunting him, until the image fogged over again.

What was that all about? It didn’t make sense to Nigel, and the only way to solve the mystery was to share what he saw with Morgan. “I saw myself as I was, but there was something unsettling about my reflection,” he revealed as he returned his attention to Morgan. “If I may, what did you see?”

Morgan started to sigh hearing the start of his response, but when he stopped, they tensed. Hearing his comment, they rubbed their temples. They listened as he explained what he saw and shook their head, "It was someone who looked almost opposite myself, like someone who lived in some war or conflict," they explained.

They crossed their arms, "The mirror has the ability to see across worlds, dimensions, and time," they muttered, looking over, and their brows shot up as they realized there was a hand coming through the rippling surface of the mirror, "That...was not an intended function."

Once the hand was through, it gripped the side of the mirror, another hand shooting out and grabbing the other side before the person Morgan had seen in the mirror pulled themself through, eyes darting around, that rage still there, "Where the hell is this?" they growled.

"Incredible..." Morgan said, surprised, and not yet realizing what exactly they'd brought into reality.

Nigel’s brow creased in both concentration and worry as Morgan described their reflection. Unlike his, theirs was completely different from what they were like, and he wondered what exactly it was that the mirror had shown them. Was it showing them an alternate timeline instead, one that was randomly chosen or somehow determined through a set of rules?

His train of thought was interrupted as Morgan pointed out that something wasn’t supposed to happen. Spinning around, he was just in time to see Morgan’s reflection emerging from the mirror. They were exactly as they had described: angry and hardened, as though circumstances hadn’t been kind to them at all.

Despite the potential danger posed by the unexpected materialisation of the reflection, Nigel couldn’t help but observe what was unfolding before him with morbid fascination. Part of him was primed to abort the experiment, but at the same time he wanted to carry on till he found the answers to all the questions that were rapidly forming in his mind. Subconsciously though, he still recalled the safety protocols that were drilled into him. “Initiate containment procedures?” he asked, checking the room and identifying the various avenues of egress available to the reflection as he drew his wand in anticipation of things going pear-shaped swiftly.

Behind Morgan’s reflection, a second pair of hands grasped the mirror’s frame, and moments later his own reflection emerged as well. “Well met, my friends,” the other Nigel said, his smirk widening into an enigmatic grin.

"Probably wise," Morgan said as they moved to cut off their reflection's line of sight to the nearest door, "Well met," they responded to Nigel's reflection, "It seems we may have plucked you away from wherever you're from," they started to draw their wand, "It would be... ideal if we could talk," they added.

Morgan's reflection looked at her through squinted eyes, "You're an idiot," they snapped, "You created this thing," they thrust the hand towards the mirror, "Didn't you?"

"And why does that make me an idiot, exactly?"

"Because you've opened the portal for those with the worst intentions to get through, and that thing is going to fall into the wrong hands, it's inevitable," the reflection shook their head, "Someone like you ought to be put down before you create problems for everyone," they said before rolling their neck, clearly preparing for an altercation.

"Hm. That statement has me surmising that talking is not something you're inclined to do."

With a wordless wave of his wand, Nigel locked the doors of the room and mirrored Morgan’s movement to physically block the reflections from the avenues of egress. Unbothered by the less-than-friendly welcome, Nigel’s reflection tilted his head slightly to acknowledge Morgan’s greeting. “Yes, we have much to discuss,” he replied, his expression unreadable beyond that mysterious smile.

That discussion, however, wasn’t going to happen anytime soon, for Morgan’s reflection seemed more interested in sparking an open conflict with the others than coming to an understanding. “Idiot? And those with the worst intentions?” Nigel’s reflection cut in as he voiced his discontent – whether it was sincere or sarcastic, Nigel could not tell. “You wound me, Morgan. We’ve just met and you’ve managed to insult three quarters of the present company, yourself included. Well done.”

The real Nigel spoke up next. “Why are you telling us this if your intentions are as bad as you say?” he asked warily, his wand raised in a defensive posture. Subtly he slipped his other hand into his pocket, ready to reveal his trump card should things go sufficiently pear-shaped.

Morgan's reflection scoffed, "If people are insulted, it just means I'm right," they said before looking over towards Nigel as they spoke, "Because. I like making sure people know why I'm about to vaporize them," they said before drawing not just a wand but a knife.

As the real Morgan attempted to knock the wand away, the reflection dashed at them, faster than the real one could have predicted. The reflection slammed into them with enough force to not just knock them back, but enough that their head knocked on the hard floor, causing their vision to swim. But this wasn't a moment to give into that and Morgan gripped their reflection, not about to let them try and get out of the room. After a bit of grappling and some wounds to the real Morgan, they managed to get the knife away and pinned their reflection down.

"Blood hell," they panted before looking towards Nigel and his reflection, "Are you going to be more civil, or are you another rabid dog?" they asked, gritting their teeth in pain as their reflection squirmed to try and get out from under them, but to no avail. Morgan was bleeding from a few different places, but they were ignoring it for the time being. Adrenaline was keeping them going and focused. This was their mistake...

“Let us agree to disagree,” Nigel’s reflection shrugged as he stepped back, content to let Morgan’s reflection do as they pleased. Upon seeing the drawn knife, Nigel prepared to intervene with a Disarming Charm, but his spell bounced harmless off a glittering shield conjured by his reflection.

“Relax,” his reflection said calmly, unperturbed by Nigel’s defiant glare. “That is not your fight, and you need not intervene.”

After a brief struggle Morgan emerged victorious, to Nigel’s relief. “What did I say?” his reflection said nonchalantly, as though he had expected such an outcome. “Now, Unspeakable, I have business with you.” The reflection extended his hand to Nigel, beckoning him to take it. “You can choose to leave calmly with me… or I can take you with me in a less civil way.”

“I’ll choose the latter,” Nigel growled.

His reflection smirked, anticipation blazing in his clear blue eyes. “I thought so too. Expelliarmus!”

Nigel barely had enough time to throw up a defensive shield, but as he readied a counterattack, his reflection vanished into thin air. They were within the Ministry of Magic’s headquarters, and there was no way his reflection could have Apparated. Unless…

A heartbeat later, his reflection materialised behind him, a glowing time turner in his hand. But before his reflection could capitalise on his advantage, Nigel vanished and reappeared behind his reflection, his own time turner glowing as he employed the same trick to pull off the sneaky manoeuvre. “Mora.”

Too late. A blue bubble manifested before Nigel… but it was not his spell. Somehow or another his reflection had anticipated this and stealthily aimed a Time Sphere charm behind him a split second before Nigel cast his spell. The bubble swiftly enveloped Nigel, entrapping him in a sphere of almost frozen time.

With the real Nigel neutralised for the time being, the Unspeakable’s reflection turned to the two Morgans. “Need a hand, Morgan?” he asked, deliberately not specifying which of the two he was addressing. Despite his outward assuredness, his brow was knitted in concentration as he fought to maintain the temporal prison that held his counterpart. Against a wizard of Nigel’s calibre, the spell would normally be able to hold for quite a while, but his mastery of time magic meant that he could break free easily if his reflection lost focus for even a moment.

"Piss off," The reflection barked, trying once more to get up before Morgan reared back her hand and punched hard enough at the sensitive place to knock their reflection out cold. They got back to their feet, drawing their wand once more and turning towards Nigel's reflection. Looked like some of those hand-to-hand combat classes had been a wise choice. They'd have to thank their mother later.

"You can't leave," they said firmly, "You're not meant to be a part of this world, you seem smart enough to understand the detriment it would cause to have two of you wandering around," they said, glancing towards the real Nigel out of the corner of their eye, not taking their eyes completely away from his reflection, "What business could you possibly have in a world that's not your own?" they demanded as they looked back more fully at the reflection.

Their eyes squinted a touch, but they held themselves firmly upright. They couldn't falter, not right now, no matter how much pain they were in or how much their head swam, "Doesn't the timeline have enough issues in it already from this to go causing some kind of strange paradoxical event?" they hoped what they were saying would make some kind of sense to this reflection, to get them to surrender.

Nigel’s reflection winced as Morgan knocked the daylights out of their reflection with a single, well-placed punch. “Remind me not to get on your bad side,” he gulped, subconsciously backing away from the Unspeakable. “Although something tells me that might already be a foregone conclusion.”

Any outward signs of wariness he might have had evaporated as he composed himself before answering Morgan’s questions. “Correction: the detriment it would cause if people knew that there were two Nigel Dexteras wandering around.” He met their gaze squarely and calmly, as though he was fully justified in his intentions. “Why do you presume the worst of me, Morgan?” he asked innocently. “This need not be a zero-sum game, and we can all stand to gain by helping one another.”

Abruptly he paused as his eyes narrowed in concentration and his Time Turner flared brilliantly for a few moments. The real Nigel was attempting to break free, and he didn’t have much time left before the tables were turned on him. “Excuse me,” he said once his Time Bubble had stabilised. “Where were we? Oh yes, time paradoxes. Doubtless you are aware that time is… well, a big ball of wibbly wobbly, timey wimey stuff. An imprecise description, but one that is telling of how much – or rather, little – we know about it, no thanks to what we are able to perceive from our extremely limited points of view.” The reflection gave a dramatic sigh. “Now imagine if you had an alternative frame of reference,” he went on, hoping to pique Morgan's interest and hook them in. “Someone from a different point in spacetime. We could cooperate. Corroborate.” He allowed Morgan a few moments to take in what he said and consider his preposition. “Think about it, Morgan. Think about what we could learn if we were to work together.”

"I assume the worst because of what you've done to my colleague there," Morgan answered, keeping the wand up, "Quit with the pretty speech," they said shortly, not appearing to relent even a little, a very no-nonsense, no bullshit buying look, "Spit out what it is you want if you aren't of ill intent. And as much as we don't understand, are we really going to tempt fate with having two of you here?" they spat, "Get back in that mirror and we can pretend all this never happened," they pointed their free hand in that way, "And let him out," they shifted to point to the real Nigel, "You're bargaining like you have any chips in this deal."

"Curiosity will not kill this cat," they said as well to make it clear piquing their interest was not going to be a way to get out of this situation, "Either you get back in or I lock you in a vault in the depths of Gringotts with it and this," they nudged their reflection with their foot, not looking away though, "And it will be your only way out."

Nigel’s reflection tensed up slightly as Morgan pointed their wand at him. Knowing the Unspeakable’s combat prowess, it was unlikely that his reflection could hold his own for long in a fight against Morgan, especially since much of his attention was spent on maintaining the Time Bubble. “Touché,” he replied. Granted, it would have been him who was trapped in the Time Bubble had he not acted swiftly in self defence, but ultimately he had been the one to cast the first spell when the real Nigel wouldn’t leave quietly with him.

“Do you know what you’re expecting of me, Morgan?” Nigel’s reflection asked as he changed tack. “You created us”—he indicated Morgan’s unconscious reflection with a tilt of his head—“and now you want to get rid of us because we didn’t turn out the way you intended. You asked me what I want, and here is my answer: I want to live, Morgan. You may see us as mere shades of the real deal, a wretched existence, a stain on this world. But it’s my life, and I fully intend to live it on my own terms.”

He gave Morgan a few moments to ponder over his words, but the Time Bubble flared brilliantly again and prompted him to cut the conversation short. “I hope my answer was satisfactory, because that’s all the time I have to chat. It’s been nice meeting a different version of you, Morgan.” With that he raised his Time Turner – his other ticket out of this locked down room deep within the Ministry of Magic – and smirked. The sand began to glow as the miniature hourglass housed within the device flipped, and the first grains tumbled out of the upper chamber and down into the lower…

Morgan looked a bit startled at what he said, not having expected that answer. She didn't think they were creations, she thought they had been some kind of other person. If they weren't actual people but just copies, that eliminated some of the possible threats of time issues at least. He could just be lying.... But she glanced at the time bubble before looking at the reflection of Nigel again, "You don't even know where that will send you, who you'll run into!" she balked, but then grit her teeth, "If you cause trouble, if you hurt anyone, I *will* hunt you down. Probably still will anyway, so you'd better make yourself scarce," she said as she started to lower her wand, but the threat was still there in her face. Even if she used a spell, it could just make things worse since he'd already spun it. She'd just have to track him down later. Once she dealt with the other pieces present in this room.

The surprise on Morgan’s face told Nigel’s reflection that he had been right: they had been unaware of the nature of the reflections that had crossed into this world from the mirror. Of course they were unaware – they had but just witnessed what the artefact they had created could do. Compounding their troubles was the realisation that there was no way they could trap him here and now, and most definitely not with feeble words. “Worry not,” he replied, unfazed despite her threat. “I know better than you the dangers of time travel. Rest assured, I shall not squander this second chance that you have given me. I will see you again, sometime.”

With that, the reflection vanished into thin air, leaving behind no trace that he had ever been there. Instantaneously, the bubble entrapping the real Nigel burst and dumped him unceremoniously on the ground.

Picking himself up, the Unspeakable took stock of his surroundings and found only Morgan and their incapacitated reflection, whilst his reflection was nowhere to be seen. “I’m sorry, he took me by surprise, he apologised as he dusted himself off. “What happened?”

Morgan squinted at the words. A second chance? For what? But then he disappeared and they sighed before looking to the Nigel that fell from the time bubble. They shook their head, "The whole thing took us by surprise, safe to say," they said, walking over to a table, grabbing a towel that had been left in by someone before, then went behind the mirror, careful not to cross in front again, not wanting to test if more might come through, and covered the glass, "This is temporary. I'll get a bigger blanket to make sure it is completely covered and stick this in a deep hole somewhere," they murmured, "Your reflection had a time turner, he used it to get away. Though, he made some interesting comments.... about wanting to live and making use of a second chance," they murmured, looking over at him.

Morgan looked to their own reflection, "This one clearly seeks violence. I think I might tuck it into a cell somewhere and see what information we can learn. See if sending them back is even an option," they put their hands on their hips, "But probably best knowledge of this... mistake stay quiet for now. Who knows what someone would want to do with something like this," they shook their head.

Though Nigel grimaced and nodded as Morgan said that they had been blindsided, the brief flash of self-directed anger in his eyes betrayed how he felt that he could have done better. After Morgan covered up the mirror and promised to lock it away, they apprised him of what his reflection had revealed before vanishing. Cryptic as the words were, they were nevertheless sufficient to give Nigel pause.

“A second chance, eh?” he remarked to no one in particular as he pondered the significance and meaning of what his reflection had said. “Oh, pray pay me no heed. I merely found his diction oddly specific.”

Nigel turned his attention to the other unexpected intruder: Morgan’s reflection, unconscious and lying on the ground. “You fared so much better against your ‘dark side’,” he noted with a tinge of regret about how he had been sidelined for almost the entire confrontation and left Morgan to handle everything alone. “I really should work more on my combat skills.” A pity that his reflection might not have slipped away if not for his carelessness, but one threat neutralised was still better than none.

Morgan’s proposed plan of action – including the part about keeping everything under wraps – seemed sound to him. “Rest assured, my lips are sealed,” he concurred. “We’re Unspeakables after all.” But there was an extra precaution he felt was necessary. “I’ll be warding the cell against time magic. There’s no telling when our dear missing friend might drop by for a visit.”

A thought suddenly occurred to him. “Speaking of our friend… how would you differentiate between him and me?” he asked, frowning in concentration as he tried to devise a solution to the problem he had just posed. As compared to Morgan’s reflection, his reflection much more closely resembled him in both appearance and mannerisms. “If it makes any difference to you, I would appreciate it greatly if you’d try not to shoot first and ask questions later.”

Morgan noted what it was that Nigel seemed to think was interesting, wondering what about those words had him pausing, but didn't addressing it for the time being, "My issue seems to be a bit more straightforward," they said, looking down to their reflection, "All they want is to tear down that which stands in their way," they turned back to Nigel as he assured them that he'd stay quiet. They smirked a little at the "unspeakable" pun of sorts, but nodded to his comment about the warding, "Good idea," they agreed.

They hummed in thought at the question, "Well. I guess you'd best tell me something that will be specific to you," they said, "Surely your lives can't have been so completely similar that he'd be able to answer something personal. I know that's a lot to ask, and I wouldn't normally poke my nose in, but this is a rather... delicate situation. I can do the same, in case this one ever gets out and manages to blend in," they motioned to their unconscious reflection.

"Perhaps a body marking. In my case I can share a tattoo, this one doesn't seemed to have the same ones," Morgan crouched, checking the reflections tattoos to make sure none of them were the same.

“I already noted one potential difference, though it is not a body marking but a possession,” Nigel said as he pointed to his wristwatch. “His is of a slightly different make and appears much simpler than mine, though I know not the circumstances that led to such a disparity.”

Unclasping his watch, he flipped it around and showed the case back to Morgan. There was a small inscription: W. P. Dextera. “It’s a tradition in the Dextera family for a parent to gift their child a watch they made when their child comes of age,” he explained. “Naturally, these watches are unique. Mine has forty-nine jewels in its movement, and I doubt my reflection has any knowledge of that. Technically there are two more jewels, but they’re not part of the movement and thus do not count.”

Putting on the watch, Nigel pursed his lips as he pondered about why his reflection’s watch seemed so much simpler than his, so much so that it didn’t seem like his father’s handiwork. “I suspect my reflection might have noticed the differences between our watches, and he might create a clever duplicate or choose to steal mine. I do hope that him not knowing the number of jewels inside the watch would serve as a way to tell us apart, even if it only works once. And hopefully we’ll find a better way to differentiate the two of us.”

His thoughts turned to Morgan’s reflection and their seemingly straightforward goal. “You mentioned that your reflection wanted to tear down everything that stands in their way. Do you know what – or who – they were referring to?” he asked. “Our brief encounter with our reflections has barely taught us anything about them or their motivations or agendas, and I worry that our lack of knowledge would put us on the back foot.”

Morgan came over to inspect the watch, squinting at the details to try and make an impression in their minds so they could notice if there was a difference. "49," they murmured in an echo of what he was saying. They put their hand to their chin as they tried to think if they'd caught sight of the copy watch and if it was anything like the real Nigel's watch, but they couldn't pinpoint it. As he continued speaking, Morgan looked up and nodded, "I'll be sure to keep that in mind. I might ask you what the number is, though I'll want to think of a clever way to ask so that only we two know what it is I'm asking... Oh," they snapped their fingers, but before they spoke it aloud, they looked around, realizing speaking it out loud right now would be foolish. They pulled a paper from their pocket and quickly wrote down the question they would ask, "What is the page number of the code in the Veneficus Text?" to which his answer would be "49". They pulled the paper from their pad and handed it to him, "Here. I'll try not to be overly paranoid and ask that every time we encounter one another, I may just ask to take a look at your watch, but just in case," they nodded.

"Though I suppose doing what we do and the fact I know you have a copy out there on the loose, a healthy dose of paranoia is called for," They mused before looking to their own copy, "I've taken enough of your time. If you're alright, we should get back to our regular duties, and I'll make sure these two things find themselves in a deep dark hole somewhere," they mused before looking back to him once more, looking to see if he had objections on that.