This prologue is not part of the story, it just inspired me write it. I hope you enjoy it!
It was her seventh year.
She was eighteen and had already fought in a war.
She had brown curly hair and soft brown eyes.
She was smart.
She was a Gryffindor.
But she was nota know-it-all!
That was a lie!
Hermione stood in front of The Mirror of Erised, but didn't look at it. Dumbledore had allowed her to take one look, but only one look and only once. She had promised to do so, and she would. But she was afraid of what she might see.
What if it was true? What if she loved him? What if her deepest wish was to be with him? She had to know, she had to be sure. Yes, she would look just to be sure.
So she did. Why did it have to be so?