Do not ask where this came from. I'm supposed to be working on one of my three essays. Still, review and enjoy.
This was it, the opportunity she had been waiting for. At nineteen, and as the highest achieving student Hogwarts had seen for several decades, possibly even centuries, not to mention a third of the Golden Trio who had helped to bring down Lord Voldemort, she was entitled to certain privileges which she never took up. Finally, though, the Ministry had landed on exactly what could tempt her; the chance to, as she had once told Scrimgeour, 'do some good in the world'. The problem was, she did not know what good she wanted to do. She had so many conflicting and important commitments and passions, and she did not know which one to pursue. She could continue with SPEW, her pet project since she was fourteen, or go into magical law, for which she had a natural talent, and which was an area which, in her opinion, could do with some serious reforms and improvements, not to mention some fresh ideas and faces. Then again, she could follow in Harry and Ron's footsteps and commit herself to the Auror training programme which they raved about, thus keeping the trio undivided, or go into teaching, as Professor McGonogall was retiring her old post as Transfiguration teacher and had hinted strongly that, should she be interested, Hermione would be her first choice of successor. Failing all this, Hermione had even considered going in an entirely new direction, and beginning research into her favourite branch of magic, Arithmancy. It was a tough decision, and, she had thought, it was hers to make alone.
That was until the Ministry of Magic had somehow discovered her predicament, and made her the one offer she could not refuse : the chance to look into the Mirror of Erised, and see once and for all her deepest and most desperate desire, and for once follow her heart rather than her head, into the career of her dreams. Because she already knew her deepest desire; to give herself to the cause which most needed her talents, and to do some good in the world.
So it was that she skipped along the corridor to the Department of Mysteries, unable to contain her excitement at coming face to face with this legendary and very powerful magical object, to see the absolute truth. To see, in essence, her future, in a way which simpering seers like Trelawney could never show it to her. She was flanked, of course, by two Ministry officials, a mere formality, but one which had to be observed, even for her. She had a distinct impression that the Ministry had had to pull some very important strings to allow this visit, but for once the thought of privilege did not offend her.
Outside the door, she glanced sideways at her escorts, and they nodded discreetly, indicating that they would stay outside. With trembling fingers she opened the door, twisting the elegant gilt knob, feeling the faint click as the catch slid open at her touch. Entering the room, she breathed in the musty air with delight; it reminded her of the library at Hogwarts, a deep, rich smell full of the promise of hidden knowledge. Catching sight of the mirror, her face broke into an enormous smile. Here it was, just metres away, tall, imposing, and beautiful. Taking a deep breath, she stepped forwards into the single ray of light illuminating the object.
For a moment all she saw was herself, her faded pink jumper and her boring blue jeans, her frizzy hair scraped back into a ponytail. Her eyes were alive with excitement and her cheeks flushed with anticipation. Then, the reflection disappeared, and was replaced with an image beyond her wildest dreams. There it was, her deepest and most ardent desire, looking straight back at her. The colour drained from her cheeks and she sank to her knees.
It was not any of the things she had expected, not any of the possibilities she had considered. In front of her very eyes, the image of Draco Malfoy smiled and winked at her, every now and then wiggling its eyebrows suggestively.
This was it.
Her deepest desire.
Draco Malfoy.
On a plate.
Naked.
Oh. Holy. Shit.
The Mirror-Malfoy gave her a little wave, and withdrew from behind his back a canister of whipped cream, which he began to spray in a tempting, oh-so-lickable line down his pale, perfectly contoured chest. One pale finger swooped down and secured a glob of cream. A pink tongue came out. Hermione screamed.