Chapter Two

Hermione took solace where she always did – the library. With her feet curled under her and a book in her lap, she appeared to everyone else as serene, content even. In reality she was anything but calm, cursing herself for letting cowardice win. She couldn't even really say why she ran away, neither could she explain the keen disappointment she felt that she never got to see the mysterious figure in the glass. On the table beside her lay nearly a dozen books, ranging from the studies of divination to runes, all books she had exhausted in an attempt to find any mention of this so called true love mirror. She had found plenty mention of soul-mates within the divination section of course, all nonsensical romantic drivel as opposed to facts and evidence. In other words, it was hopeless and she was beginning to seriously wonder how on earth Lavender had heard of it in the first place. If she had less pride, she would have gone to ask herself but she would rather suffer and study alone than admit any curiosity towards the mirror.

That evening when she went to the great hall for dinner, she was noticeable quiet. Even Ron stopped to ask if she was ok, although she couldn't help but wonder how much of that was due to Lavender's absence. Still, he looked sincere, his blue eyes melting her resistance as they always did.

"I'm fine Ron it's just"- Hermione broke off, unsure how to explain what was bothering her without sound jealous –which she was- or that she was upset over Lavender's earlier remarks – which she also was. "Do you think that mirror we saw earlier can really show you your soul-mate?" She regretted the question as soon as she asked it, immediately recognizing the surprised look on Ron's face.

"Why?" He said cautiously; no doubt he had spent the afternoon being plagued with similar questions from Lavender, only in a more dreamy and personal manner she imagined.

"Because I think it's a load of nonsense," she said, trying not to get irritated at his obvious show of relief. "I can't help but be curious about its actual magical properties though. There must be a reason people call it what they do."

With that Ron made a small noise that suspiciously sounded like a grunt and continued eating, Harry however remained looking at Hermione with a frown. He was always the more perceptive of the two.

"A magic mirror?" He questioned, eyes searching Hermione's face with concern. "Be careful with those, they're not all they're cracked up to be." She knew immediately of what he was referring to, reasoning that perhaps he would be able to understand more than she had originally supposed. She hadn't forgotten the mirror of Erised and his temporary obsession, neither had she forgotten how painful it was for him to give it up.

Anything else Hermione was going to say was swallowed up by Lavender's return, her arm immediately snaking around Ron's shoulders in a way that made Hermione stab her food a little too hard. Harry's raised brows said he had noticed. Determined to remain aloof, she looked away from his gaze and let herself idly indulge in people watching, her eyes skimming from table to table. As she did so however, she couldn't help but wonder if any of the faces before her would have showed up in that mirror.

It was an anxiety-inducing thought, especially when her eyes fell on Draco with his sneer and pale skin. Even worse would have been Crabbe or Goyle. Merlin's beard what if either of their faces had shown up in the glass? That thought was so horrifying that her appetite promptly disappeared. It wasn't so much that she believed in soul-mates or any of that nonsense, but even the possibility of any of them being linked to her was too much to bear.

"Hermione? 'Mione?" When she back to the present, she found Harry watching her still. "Are you sure you're alright? You know you can always talk to us, or just me if you need to." The words as well as the concern in his gaze warmed her instantly. Even distant as he had been, Harry could always be relied on to care. The trouble was, Hermione wasn't sure she could put into words just how lonely she has been even if she tried.

With a smile that was far brighter than she felt, Hermione promised she was fine and forced herself to eat the rest of her dinner, pushing her worries to the back of her mind where they belonged.

They didn't stay there of course. Like any good worry, they came creeping back in the dead of night just as she resolved to try and sleep. Lying in her bed surrounded by Gryffindor colours, Hermione tried so hard to take comfort in familiarity. After all, Hogwarts had been her true home since the moment she first opened her letter. Now however, she couldn't help dwelling on an item of dubious authenticity, in the most dubious of shops. It was ridiculous…but what if it was all true?

What if there was such a thing as soul-mates and Hermione could really find hers? The more Hermione tried to argue that thought with logic and reason, the more it bounced back, determined to have itself heard.

Her last thought before sleep finally took her was a tempting one; if it turned out to be real, she wouldn't ever be alone ever again.

Alongside rain, the morning brought with it a cold sense of reality. Soulmates are fanciful and Hermione Granger, the smartest witch of her age, has nothing to fear from a magical mirror. In fact she downright refused to be one of those girls pining after destined love and instead focused her attention on her studies with a veracity that surpassed even her usual.

She ignored Draco's jeering, even smiled calmly in the face of his taunting words which served to shut him up faster than any retort of her own could ever do. She ignored Lavender's use of 'Won and Wonald' as well as Ron's wandering hands and she even managed to ignore Harry's continued use of the damn book that won him constant praise from Slughorn. Well, she mostly ignored that one. She almost didn't resist the urge to try out Ginny's infamous bat bogey-hex for herself when she saw Harry's smug face.

By the time the sun had begun to set, Hermione was in a good mood. She had laughed, she had smiled, she had chatted aimlessly as if they were normal kids. She almost felt normal too, especially as Ginny and she sat in the common room sharing assorted sours as they used to. Everything faded fast however with one problematic question.

"Do you still like my brother?"

Hermione felt her smile disappear, no matter how hard she tried to hold onto it. Briefly she considered her options, she could lie and say she never liked Ron, not really, or she could say her feelings died when Lavender came into the picture. The one thing she refused to admit out loud however, was how much it hurt to see them together.

"Sometimes," she admitted in a small voice, surprising even herself with her honesty. "Other times seeing him and the way he is with" – Hermione forces herself to stop then but it was too late. Ginny, as she always did, knew exactly what her closest friend was thinking.

"With Lavender," Ginny finished for her, her eyes soft and voice sympathetic. Neither of them said anything more, they didn't have to. Instead they just sat there in compatible silence, the warmth of the fire bathing everything in an orange glow. "You know if it helps I could always hex them both." The offer is so surprising when combined with her gentle tone that Hermione couldn't help but laugh. "Remember when Ron was vomiting slugs? I could recreate that for you."

"Ginevra Weasley, you are devious."

By the next day, Hermione barely spared a thought for the mirror or the idea of soul-mates at all. In fact when she thought of the mirror and her previous fascination, she couldn't help but wonder what on earth had gotten into her.

"Mione will you take a look at my homework?"

"Really Ronald?" With an exaggerated sigh, Hermione sat down for breakfast and stared at the papers he handed her. She knew by now that taking a look could easily turn into her doing the entire thing for him. Still, she would not let even that ruin her mood today. It took her far too long to realise he was wearing an absurdly wide-brimmed, and amusingly floppy hat atop his head, and when she did she couldn't help but laugh.

"Alright it's not that funny," he said with a glare. "My mum made me this hat."

"I'm sure she did, but since when you wear anything she makes in public?"

"He's hiding from Lavender," Harry interjected, smile already in place. "Frankly I wish he'd hide from us too looking like that. Now the Slytherins have cause to laugh at us."

"Oh right laugh it up. It's worked hasn't it? She's not bothered me once this morning," Ron said, sending quick furtive glances around the table.

"Probably because she's too embarrassed to be seen with someone wearing that," Hermione couldn't help but laugh, not even as his face coloured red. "Regardless, I'm happy for the break. It's nice to have you back with us Ronald." He did smile at that, if only briefly.

Hermione's reprieve didn't last long. In a swirl of robes and curls, Lavender bustled to their position at the table and promptly placed herself between her and Ron. Her annoyance would have been far greater if her gaze didn't immediately latch onto what Lavender held in her manicured hand.

"Is that what I think it is?" Hermione said, not even bothering with a greeting.

"What? Oh you mean this rubbish thing?" With that Lavender brandished the mirror in front of her, staring at her reflection glumly. "I bought it from Borgin and Burkes yesterday. It's a useless piece of tin. Doesn't even work." With that she dumped it onto the table with a loud clang, barely sparing a glance to Hermione who flinched from its sudden proximity.

It was bizarre, incomprehensible even but as she saw it lying there, all those thoughts and feelings of abject loneliness and hope for something more came swarming back. She could feel it even, feel the same shocking current running through her fingertips even though she hadn't even touched it.

"What do you mean it doesn't work?" She said, her voice small even to her own ears.

"I mean it's just an ordinary mirror," Lavender replied impatiently. "Showed me nothing but my face. Although, Ron here"- without barely a pause she thrust the mirror into Ron's hands and directed the glass at his face. Like Lavender, Hermione couldn't help but hold her breath as they waited for something.

Still nothing happened.

"See, it's just a piece of rubbish."

Hermione stared at the glass and at Ron's bored face, completely perplexed. Rubbish and useless Lavender had called it and indeed it did appear so today. But she couldn't forget the shadowy figure forming in the glass when she held it even if she wanted to. It was magical, she could feel it, she saw it even! Saying nothing, she watched as it was passed around to Harry who had the exact same reaction as Ron. Again, nothing happened and she grew more and more disconcerted by the second.

"How much did you pay for it?" She heard Ron ask. Whatever the answer, Hermione didn't hear it as she became so focused on that mirror she blocked out all sounds. Surely she didn't imagine her own experience with it…

Amidst the great hall chatter, nobody noticed as a pale Hermione leant forward and slowly reached out to touch the handle, grasping and feeling the cool metal against her skin. Still there was that same electric pulsing, more so now. When she lifted it to her face and the glass once again began to move and shift, she waited with baited breath, her heart pounding in her chest and the blood rushing. Soon a face began to form out of shadows, slowly becoming flesh before her very eyes, her grip so tight her knuckles had turned white.

And there he was.

He was beautiful, hauntingly so with sharp, hollow cheekbones – the kind that shadows loved to play with. His skin was pale, smooth and his eyes a dark blue that appeared almost black, eyes that sucked you in and indeed for a moment, Hermione felt she was. His hair was wavy and impeccably groomed, not at all like her peers and his lips full but stern. The expression he wore was black but cold, almost painfully so and she fancied the air had gotten a couple degrees colder around her just from his gaze. That was until she realized why the face was so familiar to her and when she did, she clambered to her feet and flung the mirror away from her with a startled gasp. To her disappointment, the glass didn't shatter.

"Hermione, what's gotten into you?" She heard Ron shout. She felt hands on her arms, heard Lavender doing her own shouting in the background, could hear Harry's earnest voice asking her something, and yet all she could see were Tom Riddle's eyes peering out at her from the mirror's surface.