A/N This is an idea that came to me while writing another fic (yet to be published, it's long and I keep changing things). I hope you like it! Reviews and constructive criticism would be fantastic!
Disclaimer: Sadly, all characters/setting/etc belong to JK Rowling. I only play with her toys and give them back for counseling.
The dark, musty halls of Hogwarts castle never ceased to calm Hermione Granger after a stressful day. She willingly patrolled the twisty passages and, though her duties as Head Girl meant she was supposed to watch for students who might be out after hours, she rarely sought them out. Often times she ended up leaning on the railing of the astronomy tower, watching the black lake's calm surface. Tonight, however, the lake was far from calm. There was a storm brewing and she could hear the wind through the creaking branches, a truly creepy sound if ever she'd heard one. She shuddered and gripped her wand underneath her robes, the smooth wood serving as a promise of protection.
There was really no reason for her to be wary of danger, it was really just reflex that no one she had fought beside had yet been able to leave behind. The castle was tense and quieter than it used to be, but she knew that would change. It already was well into the process, actually, and she smiled at the thought. If Dumbledore could see how hard everyone was working to reconcile and live the lives they wanted, he would be proud. But would he be proud of me? She thought. What am I even doing? She shook her head to get rid of the question. She didn't want to think too deeply about it, that would defeat the purpose of evading the emotions which plagued her heart, but lately the feelings and thoughts became even more persistent and she longed for the peace which many people had seemed to find.
She thought back to only a year and a half before. Albus Dumbledore, her hero, had tumbled to his death from that very spot where she stood. Harry had refused to show her the memory he had of their beloved headmaster's death, and at that moment she was glad she hadn't insisted. She hadn't had very many interactions with the man herself, usually once a year, near the end, after something big and terrible had happened and she and her two best friends needed explanations and comfort. Except for once…
Hermione could sense that she was about to remember something embarrassing again, and she could do nothing to hold back the persistent memory.
Flashback:
Hermione Granger, her hair madly flowing behind her, rushed out of the library. She had fallen asleep- again. Peeking around a corner, she readjusted the books in her arms and snuck down the hall. The last thing she wanted was to get caught out of bed and lose points for Gryffindor House. Her two best friends were already wary of her after her performance at the Yule Ball, and she had deftly avoided them, using skills they had taught her. Bad influences indeed. She snorted in derision at their immature reactions and all at once her sneaking skills went out the window. Her copy of Magical Plants and Where to Find Them slid from under her fingers, sliding to the floor with a resounding thump.
She quickly reached down to grab it just as another, much more weathered hand did the same. She shrieked and fell backwards, scattering the books around her as she sat hard on the cold stone floor. A quiet chuckle reached her ears and she slowly looked up to see its owner standing in front of her.
"Ms. Granger, are you all right?" Albus Dumbledore reached out a hand to help her to her feet but instead of accepting she frantically started gathering the dropped items.
"I'm so sorry, professor! Only I fell asleep in the library and lost track of time so I was trying to get back to Gryffindor Tower without getting caught, please don't take points away!" Another soft chuckle broke her rambling and she stared at the older man through watery eyes.
"You have nothing to worry about, my dear." He knelt and gathered some of the books. "Very interesting, I see you found my old copy of How Language Affects Spellcasting. I did enjoy this book, though it helps if you know the languages it uses. I, for one, was never very adept at learning a foreign tongue." Hermione looked at the old man in surprise and smiled hesitantly at the twinkle in his eye. He wasn't going to punish her!
"I…I know some French. I've spent a lot of time in Provence with my parents on holiday." She admitted, fiddling with the books and trying to fit as many as possible into her bag.
"What made you pick up the book? If I may be so bold as to ask…" Hermione surveyed the situation. It was midnight, and she was seated on the floor of a corridor with the headmaster seated languidly across from her, talking about books. She laughed tiredly and took control of herself before she seemed insane. Albus Dumbledore wouldn't be the first to think so of Hermione know-it-all Granger.
"Well, yes. Right. I, I saw the girls from Beauxbatons using their wands differently and I learned some of the spells, I just wanted to know more. I mean, we always thought there was one correct way to say a spell and move your wand, but they do it differently. I want to know if the result is different at all, even the tiniest bit. Words have power but how m..." She stopped and flushed. "Sorry, I get really into things."
"Not at all. I must admit I find myself intrigued by your study, I would like to know more. Perhaps, however, right now is not the time." He said as he stood carefully, as any old man would do. Once again, he held out his hand to help Hermione up and this time she accepted, gathering the rest of her books once she was upright. Albus still held a few of them and was looking at their contents in amusement.
"Thank you, Professor. I really should get back to Gryffindor. I'm usually really good at sneaking back…" She clasped a hand over her mouth and Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "That's not to say I make a habit of being out of bed after curfew, I don't, I just sometimes…" Dumbledore raised a hand to stop her babbling.
"Ms. Granger, I am well aware of your tendency to fall asleep in the library, having done so many times myself. I will escort you back to your house so you don't get in trouble. I must caution you to try harder to stop this habit. The castle is not always a safe place, especially at night." He warned and she flushed, nodding eagerly.
"Absolutely, professor. I'm sorry I keep falling asleep." She said apologetically. He waved his hand in dismissal of the issue and they set off down the corridor.
"How is your term going thus far? Are you still keeping friends with Harry and Mr. Weasley?" Dumbledore asked. He seemed truly interested. Hermione snorted and clasped another hand over her mouth. Clearing her throat at the raised eyebrow she received she decided to avoid the latter question.
"I'm very busy and I enjoy all my classes. I work very hard to learn as much as I can." She said as though the statement were rehearsed. Dumbledore's eyebrow grazed her direction again.
"You are the top of your year, Ms. Granger. Surely you must be enthusiastic about our studies? Harry tells me that you have very good study skills." He said in his calm and wise voice. Their pace was slow, as though they were simply meandering through the corridors. Hermione felt a pang of anxiety in her chest. However, she thought about the situation. This man, her headmaster and professor, a man to be idolized, was subtly offering an ear.
"Yes, I do because I have to. My parents, they don't understand the wizarding world. They try, really they do, but we become stranger to each other every time I go home. The only way they let me some here is if I do perfectly in my classes." Hermione said quietly.
"It is often difficult for non-magic parents to watch their children live such a different life from their own." There was sadness in his tone, Hermione found. "I have heard similar tales from other students throughout my years here." He turned down a corridor to their left and Hermione stopped.
"Professor, Gryffindor is that way." She said, pointing straight ahead. Dumbledore smiled.
"This is a shortcut, I believe." He frowned slightly then smiled brightly. "We will find out, won't we?" Hermione couldn't help but to smile back, however timidly. They walked on. "I find that most times there is something good in every situation." He prodded.
"I suppose, I mean…I love discovering new things. Even though I have to get perfect notes, I love to learn." Hermione admitted.
"A thirst for knowledge is certainly a credit." Dumbledore smiled down at her. "And it is always easier to teach students who actually want to learn that those who would rather throw dungbombs at the blackboard." Hermione sniggered, remembering how Fred and George had done that very thing a few months previously to Professor Moody. A light went off in her head.
"Professor…" She paused. How would it look to have a student suddenly accusing a professor, especially with only her observations? No, it wouldn't do at all. "Never mind." She said. Dumbledore slowed and glanced in her direction as they rounded a corner.
"Please, continue. You could have nothing to say that I wouldn't want to hear." He said truthfully. Hermione felt a rush of bravery.
"Please don't take this the wrong way, but I have to say something or I might just explode." She said nervously.
"Go on." The headmaster said, keeping his eyes straight ahead.
"Well, it's only that I've noticed some very strange things in regards to… to…umm… to Professor Moody." She finally said, holding her breath and waiting for the rebuke.
"Professor Moody is a strange man, I believe we can all easily agree." Dumbledore said with a reassuring smile. It faded as he noticed her expression. "You were aware of the fact, and that is not what you meant." He stated. She nodded, flushing.
"I've spent a lot of time with Harry and Ron at the Burrow and I hear Mr. Weasley talk about Professor Moody all the time. The things I've seen him do this year just don't fit." She shifted her book bag to her other shoulder. Dumbledore took a few more of her books before they dropped to the floor.
"Such as?" He asked.
"He performed the unforgivables the first day in class, and Neville was there. Poor Neville was in shock for days. He drinks in front of the students- Professor Moody, not Neville- and… well, I might be imagining it, but sometimes he looks at Harry and a few other people with a weird expression. Like he knows something we don't but we should, and I mean more than just lessons. And once when he was looking at Harry, it was as though he hated him." She ended her list and the only sound for a few minutes was that of their footsteps in the darkened halls. She couldn't tell what Dumbledore was thinking, but could anyone? The man was one of a million secrets and persistent thoughts. His memory collection was immense, Harry once said he ought to have been born with a bigger brain.
Hermione couldn't help but shudder at the idea. A bigger brain would only serve to make more room for painful or conflicting memories.
"I'm sorry, Professor. I didn't mean to accuse a professor. I could be wrong, completely wrong…" She started to ramble but Dumbledore held up a hand with a smile.
"I greatly value your powers of observation. I must ask you not to continue to follow this unless you see something that you feel you must report to me. I couldn't bear it if you were to explode." He said, the twinkle back in his eyes. Hermione gave a sigh of relief.
"Yes, sir. I promise. I think my parents would have some explaining to do if I exploded. Can you imagine? 'How did she die?', 'Oh, she exploded from keeping her mouth shut. So sad. We had such high hopes…'" Hermione trailed off, returning to her resigned feeling of inadequacy. She stopped short as she almost bumped into Dumbledore. She realized they were in a dead-end corridor. There was one door at the end, and it practically begged to be opened. She could feel it calling, tugging in her mind.
"There's something down there." She whispered as though it could hear her. Dumbledore nodded.
"Indeed there is, Ms. Granger." He said quietly. "Well well, I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. After all, you do have a mind of your own." He said, though not to the girl next to him. Strangely enough, Hermione did not feel afraid of the thing behind the door. There was a sense of calm and reassurance from the goading pull she felt in her mind.
"I can feel it in my mind." She said and Dumbledore looked at her in barely masked surprise.
"How so?" He asked.
"It's like it wants me to go see it, to open the door and discover it. No, to let it discover me first and then for me to discover it." She decided, not understanding how her own words could have sense or merit. Dumbledore merely smiled in satisfaction.
"Well then. I suppose all that is left is to do as it asks." He held out his arm to show the way but she didn't move.
"What if it's dangerous? What if it wants me to feel safe but it's actually dangerous?" She asked hesitantly.
"That is a very astute observation, Ms. Granger. You ought to keep that line of thinking. If I might give my opinion, however, I might be inclined to say that I know this entity and you are in no real danger. I do not make it a habit to lead my students into danger. They do it perfectly well themselves." He said and Hermione grinned. She took a deep breath and followed Dumbledore down the passage to the door.
"Is it locked?" Hermione asked timidly.
He ignored her question. "You know, normally I would discourage the students from entering this room, but I believe you may truly benefit from the experience." Hermione looked at him, questions and curiosity burning in her eyes. He simply opened the door and bid her to enter. She walked hesitantly into the pitch black room. The light from the doorway was minimal, but enough to cast a ray of light on her and a tall object covered in a cloth. Hermione could feel it probing her mind and she backed away as Dumbledore walked to it. He pulled off the musty fabric to reveal a tall mirror with a gold frame and lettering.
"Hello, old friend." Dumbledore murmured, standing to the side as he stroked the gold frame.
"The Mirror of Erised. Desire." She whispered.
"Indeed, Ms. Granger. The mirror does show our desires, but it also shows something else." He regarded her with an analyzing eye. "I think I shall allow you to discover its second talent for yourself." He said and Hermione slowly moved to stand in front of the mirror. She saw herself and immediately patted down her hair in embarrassment. She stopped mid-pat as things began to materialize around her. She changed; her robes straightened and she sported the Head Girl badge and a parchment with what was undoubtedly a transcript of perfect grades in all her classes. Bushy hair became sleek and the ink stains on her fingers disappeared. Her mother and father stood behind her with a look of pride in their eyes. Harry stood to her right, an arm slung across her shoulders as she tried not to trip on a stack of books at her feet. Ron stood to her left and grasped her hand, kissing it lightly before letting their clasped hands fall to hang between them.
Her corporeal self blushed and snuck a glance at Dumbledore, who was leaning against the doorframe. Blast that damned twinkle!
She looked back at the mirror and gasped. The mirror's surface was rippling, leaving an image that was similar in many ways, though much had changed. She was still standing with her family, Harry and Ron, though many more people had joined the small group. She recognized them, though she realized she didn't know them all, not really. There were Seamus, Neville, Luna, Fred, George… the sea of faces smiled at her with an air of contentment. Her parents stood a ways off, and the expressions on their faces made her heart twinge with longing. They looked proud, but not for her accomplishments. They looked proud simply because… perhaps because she was theirs. There was no way they would ever look like that. This must be my desire.
"So what do you really do?" She asked angrily and realized she was crying. A hand appeared carrying a handkerchief. She took it and wiped her eyes.
"I believe a second look might be in order, Ms. Granger." Dumbledore said softly in her ear. Hermione tensed and spun around, handing back the piece of fabric.
"No thank you, Professor. I've always known what I want. It's never going to happen. I'll never be good enough for them, none of them!" She cried and started to rush away but a gentle hand kept her in place. It slowly guided her to the spot where she had been standing.
"One more look, Ms. Granger, that's all I ask." He said gently. Standing reluctantly in front of the mirror she hesitantly looked up from the floor and met a pair of shining chocolate-brown eyes. She moved her gaze from the eyes to the smooth skin of a smiling face, worry-line and frown-free. The hair was still as unruly as ever and she noticed the ink stains were back. The head girl badge was gone. Above all she noticed how relaxed her image seemed to be.
Dumbledore came to stand beside her, making the image disappear.
"NO!" She cried desperately and reached towards the mirror, grasping at air before her hand fell to her side. Her heart hardened. "It won't happen." She whispered.
"It seems you haven't discovered the second talent, my dear. It's all right; I did not think that you would." He said and moved out of the way, allowing the image to come back. "Is there anything in this image that you don't want?" He asked. She thought about the question and realized that yes, there was something.
"Not really, I mean... It's more something that isn't there. I really do want to be head girl. Not because it would make anyone proud, or because I want to boss people around. I just know that I would be fair and I could do it better than anyone in my year." She flushed. "Not to sound degrading of the others." She added. He looked pointedly at her and the mirror. A light clicked in her mind. "So it shows more than what we want. But I can't figure out what that is. There has to be more to it than that." She said, resisting the urge to stomp her foot. Instead she looked away from Dumbledore and stared at the image before her.
"What would happen if this image were real, Ms. Granger?" Dumbledore asked.
Hermione had an immediate answer. "I would be a lot happier, obviously. I'd have friends, my parents would be proud of me for who I am, not what I do. That would make me the happiest person in the…" She trailed off. "No, it wouldn't. I wouldn't always be happy. I wouldn't be happy but I would be… I would be normal. The stress would be gone. I would do what I want to do." She said longingly. Dumbledore smiled and she looked at him in frustration. "Why are you doing this to me? I have expectations to live up to."
"Because, Ms. Granger, those expectations do not come from you, do they?" She shook her head and started to speak but Dumbledore raised a hand to stop her. "This mirror's second gift to us is not desire, but need, if the need is close enough to the desire." He let her soak in the meaning of what he just said.
"So it shows us what we need." She said, turning back to the mirror. "But that doesn't erase the fact that those things won't happen." She said bitterly.
"Won't, or can't?" He asked. She looked shocked and realization dawned.
"You wouldn't let me here if you thought it would make me feel worse." She said sheepishly. Dumbledore chuckled.
"I'm glad you don't think so poorly of me, my dear. You're correct; I would not put a student through such pain for no reason." He looked pained for a moment before smiling at her again. "The mirror will only show the need if the need is possible." He said. The weight of his words pushed all of the negativity to the pit of her stomach, leaving room for a new emotion in her heart. Hope. She had not felt hope like this for a long time. Sure, she hoped she would pass that arithmancy exam or that her potion would turn out the way it ought to or that Snape would stop breathing down her neck in class. This was a different hope, one of hope that something good would last and that her fears would desist from plaguing her mind. The black hole of anxiety in her chest started to shrink. She walked to the mirror and ran a finger down the delicate engraving.
"Thank you." She whispered. A strange tingling ran from her finger, the length of her arm and into her mind. It relaxed her and she smiled. Turning to Dumbledore, she allowed the smile to remain. "And thank you, professor. I think it might take me a while, but I will try. I've been proven wrong, so I need to make things right." She grabbed her book bag from the floor and frowned. "I should probably write to my parents." Dumbledore followed her to the open door, still holding several books.
"I think that is a good idea. You should send some lemon drops, as well." He stated surely. She raised an eyebrow in perfect imitation of his earlier expression. "They always jolt me into clarity." He explained. Hermione repressed a snicker and, taking one last look at the mirror, walked down the hallway with her professor. Somehow they ended up at Gryffindor tower, but she wasn't sure how. She was too busy thinking about the future to pay attention to their surroundings. It was probably for the best. She had gotten what she needed from the mirror; there was no need for her to return. She said goodnight to the professor and took her books carefully, so as not to drop any.
"Remember, Ms. Granger, that you are far from being alone." He said as he left, making Hermione's heart lift. She went to bed and slept deeply for the first time in months.
Hermione Granger realized two things very quickly. One: she was no longer in the Astronomy Tower, she was in the passageway from her memory. Two: she wasn't alone. Luna Lovegood was standing nearby, staring at the door.
"Hello, Hermione Granger." She said dreamily.
"Luna, what are you doing out of bed? It's way past curfew." Hermione said, though more curious than reprimanding. She knew Luna was far from one to break the rules… on purpose.
"I sleepwalk, you know. I suspect I'm asleep right now. It feels like a dream." Hermione suspected that life often felt like a dream for Luna Lovegood. She now had moments where she was more understandable and, well, normal than usual, but for the most part she was still her dreamy self. Many of her friends spent more time with her this term, realizing that they often felt calmer after leaving her presence. She had a soul bent on healing her friends, and they loved her for her kindness.
Hermione walked to the girl and looked at her calm visage, realizing that yes, she was indeed asleep. "I'll walk you back to Ravenclaw."
"It wants me to remind you of something." Luna said as they started to walk away. Hermione almost stopped walking in her shock.
"What might that be?" She asked in anticipation. Luna simply started to skip down the corridor. Hermione looked back at the door. Had it guided her here in her musings? She thought back to her memory and sighed in disappointment.
"It says you'll figure it out." Luna said from the end of the hall.
"Yeah." She muttered. "I've figured it out. Bloody sentient mirrors." She joined Luna and walked her back to Ravenclaw, somehow knowing the way and feeling resentment after being bested by a mirror, albeit a magical one.
Back in her bed, she stared at the ceiling and thought over her day, and her year so far. It was only eighteen days into the term and she was already stressed. But it's not their fault. It's mine for not having taken more care for their feelings. I should have explained. They would have said no and they would have been killed when the Death Eaters destroyed our house. I saved them, but at a price. Why is everything so complicated? She punched her pillow in frustration and fell into a fitful sleep.
The next morning she woke and dressed for breakfast. It was Saturday and her study day. The rest of the gang was going to Hogsmeade, but she had revision to do for her NEWTs.
When she arrived in the Great Hall she was swept up into a pair of strong arms and given a quick kiss. "Hey 'Mione! Happy Birthday!" She giggled and Ron looked at her in surprise, and then rolled his eyes. "I can't believe you're so wrapped up in revising that you forgot your own birthday! You're definitely coming to Hogsmeade with us, if I have to throw you over my shoulder and carry you myself." He said and walked to the table with her, grabbing a plate of bacon on the way.
"I'm sorry, I just had a long week and it all sort of crashed down on me last night." She said tiredly. Harry, Ron and Ginny looked at her with worry written all over their faces.
"Are you doing okay? We've been worried, you know. With all this studying that you've been doing we thought… well…" Ron flushed and looked to Harry for help.
"We thought you might be dealing with the stuff from the war by throwing yourself into your work." Harry stated, though not without concern. Hermione sighed and rested her head in her hands, staring at her oatmeal. Ron gently rubbed her back just as an envelope entered her field of vision and a warm body plopped down on the bench next to her.
"Happy Birthday, Hermione." Luna said dreamily and Hermione lifted her head to take the envelope. She tried on a smile for Luna and was rewarded with one in return, though the glance was calculating.
"I had a dream you needed this. I suspect the wrackspurts were right. They affect your dreams, you know." She said and took a bite of scrambled eggs. They stared at her as a group and grinned. Hermione opened the padded envelope and removed a photo encased in a frame. She felt her heart twist and a tear rolled down her cheek as she looked at the photo and the caption on the frame underneath.
Dumbledore's Army, 1996
The faces smiled at her and waved. The pictures of Cedric and Neville's parents were visible in the background.
"Gee Luna, when did you take that?" Ginny asked, peeking at the photo from the other side of the table. The conversation continued but Hermione wasn't listening. She was silently thanking the Mirror for reminding her of what she needed. The faces of the brave people stared up at her, hope in their eyes. She looked at those who weren't sitting in the hall around her. They died for a reason, so that everyone else could live a peaceful, safe, and fun-filled life. Especially Fred, with his wicked grin and the heart-shaped box of chocolates they were planning to give Filch the next evening.
"You know, I think I will go to Hogsmeade with you after all." She said and the voices around her went silent.
"Really?" Ron asked, bewildered. She looked at him and nodded.
"I can't do this anymore. I need my friends. I need to stop worrying and live my life." A soft smile was playing on her lips. Before she could register what was going on Ron, Harry and Ginny were next to her and enveloping her in a group hug. She laughed and tried to push them away but they remained steadfast until she was thoroughly squeezed. Taking a deep breath once she was free, she looked with joy at her friends and decided that this was the moment she would use for her Patronus from then on.
After all, she had everything she could ever need or want.
"I offer you peace. I offer you love. I offer you friendship. I see your beauty. I hear your need. I feel your feelings. My wisdom flows from the Highest Source. I salute that Source in you. Let us work together for unity and love." Mahatma Gandhi
