Hermione looked her reflection in the eye.
"Hermione," she told herself sternly, "you have made a terrible mistake."
Her reflection looked sternly back at her, hazel eyes flashing, curly hair seeming to quiver with rebellion.
"You know it's true," she said unsympathetically, shaking her school robes back and folding her arms. "Somewhere along the line, things have gotten completely cocked up. I don't know how it's happened, but you, missy, are in big trouble." Her reflection lifted her chin and squared her shoulders.
"Now, let's review the facts. Number one: you are a clever and exceedingly capable witch."
Her reflection nodded; there was no arguing with that.
"Number two: you are extremely sensible." Another nod.
"Number three: you are rarely ruled by your impulses. You always think things through." An inclination of the head.
"However, somehow, against your better judgement, against all your powers of intellect and logical thinking, you have found yourself fantasising about Draco Malfoy."
Her reflection shrugged helplessly.
"Don't shrug those bony shoulders at me!" Hermione exclaimed, exasperated. "This is entirely your fault. A complete and utter error in judgement. Firstly, you should never have looked at him with his shirt off. Fine, it was the end of the Quidditch match and Slytherin had just beaten Ravenclaw, so the whole team were doing that weird thing where they pull off their shirts and stick them on their head, but there was absolutely no need for you to stare at Draco. No need at all."
Her reflection raised her eyebrows at her sardonically.
"I mean Malfoy," she corrected herself quickly. "No need to stare at Malfoy."
Her reflection rolled her eyes.
"Now, don't give me that. Fine, so he was much more built than you expected, and his abs were slick with sweat from the game…"
Her reflection watched her, a mocking smile on her lips.
"And so his arms were carved with just the right amount of muscle, and as he laughed and triumphantly threw his fist grasping the snitch up in the air he looked devastatingly handsome, and you couldn't help imagining him grabbing you with those strong arms, and pushing you up against the wall…" Hermione's eyes had glazed over, and her reflection mimed knocking on the mirror, trying to get her attention. She snapped out of her reverie.
"Right! See, there's another example. Thinking about him like that. There is no excuse for it. Draco Malfoy is NOT getting his hands on your snitch."
Her reflection nodded, amused.
"Come on, now, this is serious! You can't stop thinking about him! You've been staring at him in class. You can't study because you keep floating off into fantasies. You've been thinking about him in the middle of the night. Imagined him, hands all over you, eyes hot, kissing you long and deep and hard…"
Her reflection coughed.
"See! You can't even get through a lecture to yourself without drifting off into a daze about bloody Malfoy!" She rubbed her hand over her face. "You have to do something about this. Something's got to give."
Her reflection looked at her expectantly.
"That's why I enchanted this mirror. You're the part of me that is attracted to him. What are we going to do about this?"
Her reflection's eyes lit up.
"No! We can't possibly do that."
Her reflection winked at her.
"Can't you just stop thinking about him? Find someone else to obsess about?"
Her reflection shook her head and looked thoughtful for a moment. Then, snapping her fingers, she smiled saucily, fluffed her hair and unbuttoned her shirt a couple of buttons, and then gestured towards her newly sexy appearance.
Hermione gazed at her reflection for a moment, considering…
"Oh, this is a waste of time," she snapped. She picked up her wand and ended the spell.
God knows why I thought that would work, she thought as she picked up her gigantic stack of books, slinging her bag over her shoulder and unlocking the Prefect bathroom door with a flick of her wand and a murmured "alohomora". She pushed through the door, only to find Draco Malfoy standing on the other side, smirking in his usual, painfully attractive way.
Hermione promptly dropped all of her books.
"Oh," she said weakly, and felt her face go hot.
Malfoy raised an eyebrow at her as she bent down to pick them up.
"Are you right there, Granger?" He asked, amused.
"Fine, fine!" She snapped, carefully piling one book on top of another, willing her blush to go away. She looked up to find Malfoy at her eye level, proffering a quill she had dropped. He took in her flaming cheeks and his mouth quirked.
"What were you doing in the bathroom, Granger?" he asked, a glint in his eye.
Hermione stood up in a panic and nearly lost her books again. "Nothing!" she chirped, her voice unnaturally high. "Just practising a speech!"
Malfoy stood up and looked down at her, grinning. He was so tall. She blinked at him, trying not to think about his beautifully carved face and his excellent cheekbones.
Suddenly he put a hand on her shoulder and leaned in close. "Are you sure, Granger?" he said, voice low, conspiratorial. "Are you sure you weren't doing something… naughty?"
She froze, her shoulder burning where his hand rested. His face was too close and his eyes were too blue. Her breath caught. Quick! Do something!
She cleared her throat. "I was practising a speech," she squeaked, and then she fled.
She heard Malfoy laughing behind her.