Disclaimer: All characters mentioned are the property of J.K. Rowling. The plot, though, is mine.
For everybody who's been stupid.
Killing the Feeling.
We always long for the forbidden things, and desire what is denied us.
- Francois Rabelais
They had been dancing that day. She had smiled. She didn't want to turn away because she knew that it would break his heart, even though all she really wanted to do was turn away. For months now she had felt a hollow inside her and she just didn't know why. She knew, however, that it was time she cleared her head.
It was late in the night, later than it should have been, as she crept along the walls of the corridors. She knew she shouldn't be heading the way she was but her feet seemed to have a mind of their own; and before she knew it, her hands – almost as if they were bewitched – were steadily removing the off-white cloth from a tall, broad flat structure.
As soon as the cloth fell, pooling down at her feet, she found herself staring at pitch-black eyes.
At once, her lips omitted an involuntary, "No." What she saw was wrong. It had to be. But the Mirror of the Erised had never lied before. Why should it now? Why her of all people?
Try as she might, even when she closed her eyes, that boy – that young man – stood there. His lanky form wouldn't budge. His greasy dark hair fell forward on his thin, pale face. A stray lock of greasy, black hair fell forward touching his crooked nose as his thin lips smiled at her shyly. His robes were long and his hands were buried deep into his pockets he looked at her with an intensity that made her want to forgive and forgive.
But she couldn't. He was a potential Death Eater. He had bad friends. He was wrong – just wrong; even though he was the only thing that had ever truly felt right and try as she might, she just couldn't kill the feeling.
