A/N: Hello all. As requested by some readers on adultfanfiction, I have begun to upload chapters here so everyone can get alerts. For any new readers, I believe in plot AND smutty goodness. So stay tuned. Also, I have combined the first two chapters from adultfanfiction to create this one longer chapter. Please enjoy =)

Oh and No, I don't make any money. JKR owes all, except my ideas.

"Hermione. Hermione Granger!"

Hermione reached the podium, her hands gripping the cool wooden structure for comfort. In the last few days they had lost her parents, Remus and Tonks Lupin, as well as her former professor and death eater, Severus Snape. They could not have picked a worse person to stand up at the podium, to speak eloquently about the good the Order of Phoenix had done, about the war finally turning to their side. Hermione was the brightest witch of her age, but today she was in shock. No one expected her to drag on and on, they had reassured her, but a simple something from the Trio's brainy counterpart, that was what the people needed to reassure them the war was almost over.

Her watery brown eyes fell on the caskets, only one of which remained open, as she contemplated the speech laid out before her. Severus Snape, stared up at her, with those dark glossy orbs. She could imagine he was staring through her at the ceiling, waiting to hear what nonsense she could possibly make up to smooth over his image now that they had proved he was in cahoots with Dumbledore all along. But his memories, along with the murder of her parents, made it difficult to speak. Her throat felt dry, cottony, as if she had been drained of all fluids that to date had kept her a functioning human being.

"Miss Granger? Please, your speech" the little wizard prodded her until her lips began to move. She didn't know what left them, but there were looks here and there of confusion, of outrage, and in the back some of hope.

"Today is a sad day for all of us" her eyes darted to the closed caskets containing corpses of her parents. "Today we have lost friends, loved ones…" she hesitated, "and yes we have lost heroes. Severus Snape deserves to be counted among those heroes, though none of our ministry officials would dream of it."

Her brown eyes flashed dangerously at the Minister of Magic

"Today we should take the time to remember that people are never who they seem, that we cannot judge them based on their house, or blood status, or even their outward actions. We are taught that there can be only one thing that matters in this life, what we do, but I disagree. It takes a special person to be a hero, but even more so it takes a special person to be able to live with the knowledge that they are hated for being that hero. Dumbledore would have wanted us to realize that with the war coming to a close, there is something to be learned here. Our prejudices consume us, it is a vice which we should all learn to move past."

The little wizard in his pin-stripped suit shook his head, beady black eyes apologizing to the Minister of Magic. Hermione Granger had been forced to this public funeral instead of being allowed to bury their dead in peace. She had been forced up to this podium, and frankly she didn't give a damn what the ministry thought anymore. Hermione Granger was officially done. Done being the bookworm, done allowing people to use her as a tool to further public opinion or their own greedy ambitions. Harry and Ron were big boys, they would learn to get on just fine without her.

Hermione moved off the podium stiffly, the crowd gasping as she came to a dead halt in front of her professor's casket. Whatever she said went unheard, but as she moved on to say goodbye to her friends and family, a white rose was left in her wake.

"I don't know what is wrong with Miss Granger" someone whispered, "this is not conducive to the war efforts at all."

Hermione overheard, but she had ceased caring. Her parents were gone, the two people who mattered most in her world, and she had been too busy attending Order meetings to stop it. Tonight she would go back to the mirror, as every other night this week, and sleep in peace.


The Mirror of Erised had been moved long before Dumbledore was murdered. In her last year at Hogwarts, the memory of which she still desperately clung to, Hermione found the mirror in the Room of Requirement. Her hearts desire: at that time she hadn't been sure what she wanted. Ron had been pressing her for marriage, Harry wanted her to run away with them. Hermione had wanted so desperately to stay in school. An education was something she had not wanted to waste. So it was no surprise that when she stood before the Mirror of Erised that her reflection was balancing textbooks, her wand holding up the base of her hair securely, as she tried to furiously scribble notes down..

Tonight however, as she stood before the mirror there was something different about her reflection. There were no books, no parents, just herself: pale, lifeless. The only thing about her that appeared remotely interesting were the tears cascading down her cheeks. The mirror was no longer reflecting her heart's desire. It was reflecting how she felt now…or was it? This Hermione was her, but it was not her. Her hair was shorter, frizzier, more like it had been when she first turned up at Hogwarts. That couldn't be right, she thought to herself. The mirror was no longer showing her what she most desired in all the world, it was like…

"Another reality" she whispered.

The Hermione Granger on the other side of the mirror snapped her head up as if she heard the small gasp emitted by her counterpart. Minutes ticked by: they examined each other suspiciously, each wondering if the old mirror had developed new tricks. Hermione began doodling on a sheet of paper, her counterpart doing the same, and within a matter of moments both Hermione's held up their papers with a list of names.

Hermione's held the names of her parents, the Tonks', Snape, Fred, Dobby, and Dumbledore. On the other side of the mirror, her counterpart scanned the list quickly, her eyes misting. Her pen pointed out the one name that had not made it to Hermione's. Ron. In whatever alternate reality lay beyond the looking glass, Ronald Weasley was dead, as was Percy, Lavender Brown, Dumbledore and Viktor Krum. Hermione read the list a second time, shock written on her face. Other Hermione's parents had survived…her parents.

"I wonder…"

Since her parent's deaths Hermione had fallen into deep depression. Sleep, while it had never been a driving force in her life, no longer held any appeal. She didn't eat, didn't read, she couldn't even bring herself to help her friends in the battle for their world. From the dull look in her counterpart's eyes, she imagined that losing Ron in that reality had the same effect. If there were a way that they could switch places, maybe just until the war was won in both of their worlds, maybe then…

"I hope we know what we're doing" she grumbled.

Hermione exited the Room of Requirement: pacing back and forth. She needed a spell that would allow her to pass through the looking glass and into the reality of her eager counterpart. The door to the Room of Requirement reappeared, and when she entered there was the Mirror of Erised, at its feet lay a dusty old tome with, she suspected, the one charm that could bring her family back to her. On the other side of the mirror, her counterpart also held the book and appeared to be reading its contents in preparation. Hermione wasn't sure how she knew that both of them were in agreement, but she supposed that if her counterpart were anything like her, the one thing that other Hermione needed in order to function normally had been taken from her.

"Here goes nothing." She whispered, "Sa-mi trimiti prin oglinda"

The pull through the mirror was unlike anything she had ever felt before. Not even a portkey could make her feel so ill. Hermione closed her eyes against the blinding white light: for what seemed like days she passed through it, the sound of wind rushing through her ears was deafening. Thoughts plagued her as she was tossed to and fro: what if she had said the spell wrong? What if she had doomed Harry and herself for all eternity?

"Hermione?" she heard a feeble voice cry out.

Hermione opened her eyes for a split second to see the ghost of her alternate self pass through her. It was warm and comforting, the smell of the parchment and books she surrounded herself with. It worked, not long now until she would be back in the arms of her family, and able to concentrate again on the things that mattered most. The first thing she would do however was to hide her parents away. Their safety, more than anyone else's, would prove tantamount to the war effort. Because without her the Wizarding World didn't have a chance.

The landing was trickier than she had expected. Hermione tumbled head first onto the unforgiving stones, barely aware of the loud crack that meant her skull had been fractured. Blood spewed all over the tile joined only by the contents of her stomach, but she couldn't focus on anything long enough to be disgusted. Bright lights, like little stars, danced through her vision distracting her from the situation at hand.

"Uugh" she moaned.

"Well, well, well." Through the haze Hermione heard the dulcet tones of her former potions master and had she been capable she would have breathed a sigh of relief.

His robes were the first thing to pass through her line of sight, his face, and the fear written there, would be the last. Hermione felt him gently cradle her head in his lap, the white light of his patronus exploding out of his wand and racing through the corridor. Unless she were to specifically ask the Room of Requirement to find any students within its walls, Madame Pomfrey would never find them in time.

"I daresay you may survive this little stunt Miss Granger, let there be no doubt in your mind that when you do awaken you will explain yourself to my satisfaction" he murmured.

Hermione didn't understand a word of what he said, but the warning was clear. Even so, she found herself being lulled into peace by the smooth sounds of Severus Snape.