[ James' eyes widen marginally as he's suddenly faced with his reflection. He hears what the other man says, but he's too busy inspecting this facsimile of himself to respond for a beat.

The hair is like his -- right down to the way it sticks up in the back (he takes a measured step to the side to confirm this). James doesn't immediately note the scar, but there's his nose -- the near-identical heights. For a moment, the eyes strike him with an overwhelming sense of familiarity, bringing Lily Evans to mind.

He shakes it off. ]

Y'know, I always fancied how much better the world would be if there were two of me, [ he says, narrowing his eyes. ] But this is weird.

[ To put it mildly. ]

Don't suppose you're going to mimic me if I-- [ James lifts one hand suddenly, wiggling his fingers. Then drops it. ] Suppose not.