Chapter 3
[ handshakes, praise, glares, and scorn - he was used to it, now ]
A soft noise came from his mouth, green eyes wide at the sight in front of him. His reflection stared back, mocking his expression. It had been months, maybe years since he had really seen himself. He hated what he saw more often than not. The scar that used to be a constant red had turned pale, barely blending into his dark skin. Another reminder of what he had done and seen. It didn’t matter to him that he had grown out his hair or gained more scars.
What mattered to him, currently, was how young he looked. He was 23, 24 come next summer, and he didn’t look like he had aged. He was young still, true, but even the six-year gap from 17 to now had to have caused some wrinkles, or less of a teen face. He was just so young looking...
The comments he’s had didn’t help either. He had resorted to wearing glamours sometimes and venturing into the muggle world for some makeup. Glamours to make him appear older - some fake facial hair that would be “shaved” every couple of weeks, eyes more sunken in, anything to appear even the slightest bit older. His eyebags were deep and seemingly permanent, but makeup was a wonder, covering them for days at a time.
It was only after he had been told how young he looked for his age the umpteenth time that he resorted to those methods. He didn’t want to be seen even more as a spectacle to the wizarding world. He was getting tired of it all. He had been getting tired for years now. How much longer until he broke?
He looked away. No use thinking about it for now.