AUTHOR'S NOTES: Saw that sweet little prompt on tumblr and thought I'd have a shot, because I couldn't resist and it seems very FitzSimmons like. So far it's about four chapters, but it may or may not extend to five - I'm still not quite sure. It was originally intended to be a one-shot, but then it just kind of spiralled out of control? Haha, anyway, hope you enjoy!

Also, I had to edit the summary quite a bit to fit, so here is the full thing:

Inspired by the tumblr post; "They go to the Mirror of Erised once a year. This is all the same until sixth year, where Person A sees Person B kissing them. They (surprisingly) find themselves rather comfortable with this, but don't tell Person B. In Seventh Year the two slowly drift apart due to the stress of NEWTs. Near the end of the year Person A visits the Mirror just for kicks and still sees themselves kissing Person B. They then notice Person B crying in front of the Mirror. Person B reveals they've seen Person A in the Mirror of Erised since Second Year."

...

(lady, running down to the riptide)

They find it completely by accident.

Who could have known that hiding from Filch would reveal such a great treasure?

("Fitz, I said that you should have just told the Professor you left your book behind!"

"Well, I'm sorry that I didn't want to face his wrath!"

"You could have just borrowed my book!"

"Now you choose to menton that, Jemma?")

Now, two eleven year old students are not the most prepared for such situations, so what other option is there for them but to stumble into the nearest room and hold their breaths?

There's a lot of elbowing and hissing at each other, but eventually they quieten down and squirm behind their respective hiding places until all is silent except for the gentle puffing of their breaths (and Fitz's pounding heart, which he is certain can be heard for miles).

"I think he's gone," Jemma announces finally, peering at him with wide brown eyes and flushed cheeks from running. Her hair is tousled and she looks ridiculous, but he decides not to comment because he probably looks the same, if not worse.

Besides, he doesn't want to upset her. They've only been friends for a few months (thank Merlin that they'd been paired together in Charms), but Fitz can't imagine that he'd find any other friend as perfect as Jemma Simmons.

"Shh!" he yelps, ducking back behind a dusty old statue for fear of being caught.

Jemma merely rolls her eyes at him (or at least he imagines she does; he can't really see anything but the dusty floor and the behind of the statue) and says in a muffled voice, "It's okay, Fitz. He's gone."

"What about the cat?" Fitz hisses warily, not particularly eager to budge from his uncomfortable hiding spot. It would not do to get caught so soon on his adventures at Hogwarts. "Is the cat gone?"

"Fitz," comes the exasperated reply, and eventually Fitz reluctantly withdraws himself from his spot with a grumble, brushing the layers of dust now on his robes. Jemma's just pulling her head back into the room, obviously having been checking the surroundings for any possible danger.

She pulls a face at the sight of his dirty robes, but before he can open his mouth to point out her own clothes (you're not exactly perfect, he plans to say indignantly), she stares around the room curiously and asks, "I wonder where we are? I haven't been to this part of the castle before, have you?"

Words dying on his lips, he takes a look around and realises that she's right. It looks to be a classroom of some sort, with various desks shoved into a corner and books piling, unused, on a table. Random objects are littered about, almost like a storage room. It obviously hasn't been used in a while however, because multiple layers of dust coat everything.

"Hogwarts is a big castle," he suggests cautiously, "They probably just didn't need this room any more."

"Yeah," she nods, although she doesn't really appear to be listening all too intently to him (rude). Suddenly, she takes two, three, four steps forward until she's standing in front of a large, rectangle object obscured by a large white sheet.

It's only when she's reaching for the fabric when Fitz jolts into action. "Jemma, I don't think you should-"

But it's too late, because the sheet comes falling to the floor in a cloud of dust, and he spends the next few minutes coughing from it. When he looks up again, Jemma's staring at the object curiously. Now that the cover's off, he can see it's just a mirror, with the strange words 'Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi.' carved along the top. Fitz frowns at it curiously but doesn't make an attempt to join his friend, who's still staring at it open mouthed.

"What is it?" he asks, giving Jemma an odd look. He stays firmly where he is, because he is not about to go exploring random abandoned items, thank you very much.

Suddenly, she lets out a loud gasp and takes a step back, throwing her hands over her mouth. "Fitz!"

"What? What is it?" he questions hurriedly, suddenly worried that something terrible has happened.

"Look at the words along the top!"

Fitz frowns at the words again, before shrugging. "Yeah, I know. The must be in another language or something, right?"

"No, Fitz!" Jemma almost sounds exasperated, but her features are such a mix of awe and doubtfulness that he's not entirely sure on how to read her. "Erised," she stresses, like that will mean anything to him.

"Um.. yeah?"

At this, Jemma huffs impatiently at him. "Do you even read?"

"What? Of course I read, I-"

"It's the mirror of Erised! I read it in a book," Jemma says excitedly, "It's a mirror, obviously, that shows you your greatest-"

"-desires," Fitz finishes for her, suddenly cluing in with even wider eyes (if that's even possible). "But isn't it forbidden?"

"Yes!" Jemma nods enthusiastically. "For ages! Nobody knew where it was, you see. But all this time, it's just been here.. in Hogwarts."

"And we've just found it," Fitz says numbly, his brain barely processing Jemma's words fast enough. "The mirror of Erised."

"Yes! Don't you get it, Fitz? We're so lucky to have discovered this!"

"Yeah, well that's all bloody brilliant and all, but what do we do with it now?" he counters, immediately regretting his tone of voice.

At this, her face falls and she pauses, her features moulding into a contemplative expression. It's a while before she speaks again, and it's in a hesitant tone of voice. "Well.. well I suppose the right thing to do would be to tell a teacher. And.. and leave."

"Yeah," he nods, but he's looking at her intently and in that moment a million conversations are shared instantly.

"But.. I don't suppose anyone would mind if we took a tiny peek, right? Just.. just one."

"Definitely not," he confirms with a tiny smile.

And then they both whirl to face the mirror, gazing into the reflection as if their lives depend on it.

Everything goes silent, and Fitz barely registers Jemma's tiny (pleased?) gasp beside him, because he's too caught up in his own vision. He stands in the mirror, looking smart and handsome (he wishes). There's a house cup award in his grasp, and he looks confident. Behind him, his mother stands, looking happy and cheerful and younger than he's ever seen her, worry lines smoothed out. The strain of bringing in money to support them is gone, replaced by a bright smile instead. He sees himself giving money to her mother. With his arms slung around his mother is - oh. It's his father. He's alive and healthy and with a proud smile on his face. He feels his breath catch.

But that's not all, because beside him is Jemma, laughing and throwing her arms around him in a hug. It kind of scares him, to be honest, because this is his hearts desire, and does his heart really desire to be friends with Jemma?

But then Jemma (real Jemma, that is) laughs delightedly beside him, and he decides that he does.

It's a while before they can tear themselves away, but when they finally do they lie down on their stomachs on the dust-ridden floor with their head propped on their elbows and swap reflections.

He tells her all about his, but he hesitates towards the end. "And.. and you were in it too," he admits shyly. "We were friends."

To his pleasure, she gives him a bright smile and nods. "You were in mine too! We have to stay friends now, right?"

"Yeah," he nods, and he hopes that his huge grin isn't scaring her away.

"I was head girl," she sighs happily, kicking her legs lazily. "And I had top marks in everything. Top of the class. My family was happy. All my friends were there. It was.. bliss."

"Only you would desire top marks, Jemma."

"There's nothing wrong with wanting to have high scores, Fitz!"

...

"I suppose we should leave now," Jemma says regretfully several hours later, once their clothes are coated in dust and the moon is no doubt high up in the sky. He feels like he's about to drop and collapse into sleep at any second, but his face still hurts from smiling and he wouldn't want to be anywhere else in this moment.

"Yeah, we should," he nods in agreement, but they both know that neither wants to leave.

"And.. and we should really tell the teachers about this mirror, shouldn't we?" says Jemma hesitantly.

"Yeah," he nods again.

She laughs when he trips on his robes on the way out.

Their lips are sealed.

...

Second year is when the tradition really starts. And on his birthday, of all days.

"Happy birthday, Fitz!" Jemma cheers as soon as he's managed to drag himself out of bed and down into the hall for breakfast. Before he knows it, she's throwing her arms around him and enveloping him in a hug. Her hair smells rather strange. Nice, but strange all the same. (Maybe she brews her own shampoo. He wouldn't put it past her, honestly.)

At the table, Skye grins and points a fork at him. "Hey there, birthday boy."

Beside her, Trip smiles charismatically. "Hey, Fitz. Happy birthday."

Grant waves and smiles, before quickly reverting back to his normal scowl as Skye gasps and declares dramatically that the tin man has a heart after all.

Jemma pulls away and sits herself down on a seat, patting for him to sit next to her. He obliges and soon enough he's drawn in by the familiar breakfast feast, piling pancakes onto his plate.

"Where do you put it all?" Trip laughs as he shovels down mouthfuls, and Skye grumbles jokingly.

"Don't bother, he won't even let me know his secrets."

As they start to banter (it brings a smile to his face), Jemma nudges him gently on the shoulder. "Hey, Fitz?" she murmurs in a low voice, eyes flickering towards Skye and Trip. "Do you remember last year? With.. the.. thing."

Fitz can only blink at her in confusion. "Thing?" First year had been a blur of many things. He can only guess at what Jemma was talking about. After all, he's not a mind reader. Unless there's a spell for that. Or something.

"You know. The thing," she stresses meaningfully, inclining her head towards Skye and Trip. When he only stares at her, she huffs in annoyance at him. "The mirror, Fitz!"

"Oh!"

"Yes! And.." Then she does something distinctly un-Jemma-like. She flushes and looks down at her feet. "I was thinking we could go back? I mean, it's been a year and our wishes could very much have changed, and..."

"-and you want to go back," Fitz confirms knowingly. He wants to to back too. There's something about seeing everything that you desire that makes you thirst for a better look. Maybe that's why they haven't turned it in yet.

When she nods, he gives her a smile. "Tonight?"

"But we mustn't get in trouble," she insists, suddenly looking alarmed. "I like following the rules."

"I know you do."

"What are you two whispering about without me?" Skye interrupts suddenly, looking mischievous.

"Nothing," they chime simultaneously. Fitz is almost quite proud of them until Jemma babbles on.

"Nothing at all!" she continues, her voice going horribly high-pitched and her smile becoming uneasy. "Just.. talking about.. mirrors. And how.. how reflective they are. Aren't they reflective, Fitz?"

He can barely keep himself from groaning and telling her shut up. Why she's such a horrible liar, he'll never know. He supposes it's up to him to save her skin.

"We love mirrors," he announces gravely.

Admittedly, Fitz isn't the best liar either.

...

Jemma fusses the rest of the day, constantly switching between oh no this is a bad idea we're going to get in so much trouble to I'm so excited Fitz how much time do we have left? And while it's sweet (and amusing) at first, even Fitz starts to get weary after a while (after all, homework doesn't finish itself, especially not with Jemma buzzing in his ear constantly. And of course she'd already finished her homework ages ago because she loves it more then life). Not to mention that Skye's getting incredibly suspicious and keeps accidentally stumbling in on them in the middle of their conversation.

Trip notices too, but to his credit he doesn't say anything and instead distracts Jemma long enough for Fitz to finish his homework (which doesn't take long, being that he's always been gifted at magic - except for Charms. He can't stand Charms).

When darkness finally falls and everyone is fast asleep, Fitz creeps out of the dorm and downstairs. He's relieved to see a figure waiting by the fireplace, and he approaches her hurriedly. "Jemma-"

Then the figure turns, and to his horror it's not Jemma with her long hair and kind eyes, but an older girl, who looks quite frankly like she's not afraid to shoot a jinx at him and leave him hanging by his legs for the rest of the night.

"What are you doing up?" she queries in a measured voice.

"Me? I - uh, um - I was just.." he gulps, scrambling frantically for words. "Water?" he finishes lamely.

The girl doesn't look like she believes him in the slightest, but at that moment Jemma appears at the bottom of the stairs, her eyes widened in surprise.

"Jemma?" The girl's tone gives nothing away but her face betrays surprise, however slight it may be.

"Ma-Melinda?" Well, Jemma's clearly confused too. There's silence for a while, and Fitz notices that the girl's eyes land on the wand peeking out of Jemma's pocket.

Just when Fitz is about to unfreeze and sheepishly crawl back back to his bed, the girl nods.

"Be careful, Jemma. Filch is out tonight."

Then she's gone.

...

"What.." Fitz puffs as he follows the dim light of Jemma's wand, " the hell... was that?"

"Don't be mean, Fitz," Jemma reprimands in her most bossy twelve year old voice, but she doesn't seem to mind all that much as she navigates the corridors like her life depends on it. "That was Melinda May. You know her, right? Prefect, right hand to Phil Coulson?"

"You mean the Cavalry?" he gasps before he can help himself.

"Don't call her that," Jemma snaps too quickly, like it's a reflex. Thankfully, she looks sheepish (or at least he thinks so; it's kind of hard to see with only wand light). "Sorry. It's just.. she doesn't like to be called that. She's quite nice, really." As if sensing his doubtful expression, she laughed. "I mean it, Fitz. She is nice. Just quieter, really. And a bit scary, yeah."

"You can say that again," he mumbles grumpily, but she doesn't appear to be listening because suddenly she's tugging on his sleeve with wide eyes.

"Hide! I think I heard someone!"

"Nox," he hisses, and they're plunged into darkness as they scramble for (relative) safety.

...

Moonlight bathes the abandoned classroom by the time they've finally reached it, and although this is far later than he's used to staying up, he can't possibly feel any more awake. Beside him, Jemma smiles and tugs him along gently until they're standing in front of the mirror once again.

"What do you see?" she breathes, letting her hand fall away from his sleeve.

"The same as last year," he tells her. And it's true, he sees his mother waving and his father laughing and Jemma beaming up at him. When he glances over, she's transfixed on the mirror, a faint smile on her features that is so unbelievably Jemma that he wants to laugh (later, he'll find out that it runs in the family). "What do you see?"

"Everything."

He smiles.

...

They sit cross-legged on the floor, hardly caring about the dust (although sometimes he catches Jemma huffing at her robes), a brand new set of wizard's chess sitting in front of them (Jemma's gift to him). He can't help but laugh at her because while Jemma Simmons is the epitome of perfection in everything she says and does, she cannot play chess to save her life.

He snickers when she gets flustered and she smirks whenever he misses an obvious move, but it doesn't really matter because he's having fun.

"Happy birthday," Jemma yawns through a brilliant smile, when her eyes are fluttering closed and she looks about ready to curl up right then and there.

"We should do this again," Fitz suggests before he can stop himself as he scoops up the Queen and places her meticulously back into the box.

"It's practically a tradition now, isn't it?" she agrees without missing a beat.

They stumble back to the dorms sleepily, and he's too tired to question that May knows the perfect moment to slip in and escort Jemma to her bed.

...

"Where were you last night?" Skye whines childishly (for the millionth time - he's counted) over breakfast. She's been bugging them all morning, ever since she woke up in the middle of the night to (apparently) get a glass of water, only to find Jemma missing from her bed.

"Nowhere," Jemma squeaks, before mysteriously (and conveniently) disappearing. He wishes he had the ability to do the same, because Skye attacks him next with vigour, leaning across the table and brandishing a spoon at him, milk and cornflakes flying everywhere as she almost tips over her bowl.

"There's something you're not telling me," she accuses as Grant rolls his eyes and steadies the cereal bowl while Trip laughs heartily and swipes a glass of orange juice out of the way. "You have to tell me! I'm your best friend!"

No, he thinks absently as he attempts to change the topic, that spot's taken.