Author's Note: A big thank you to those who requested more. (



Part 2

Hermione's eyes blinked at the many globes of golden light that drifted around the chamber, bathing the two professors (Dumbledore had a faint smile while McGonagall had a disapproving frown) and the huge mirror that dominated the room with soft radiance. Hermione gasped as she took in its gold frame, inscribed with the words 'Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi'. Now she recognised it.

"The Mirror of Erised' she said in shock. The mirror of hearts desire, that is, your deepest, most sought after desire that you would rarely admit to others, even yourself. She had never seen it before apart from books, but she remembered now the haunted look on Harry's face seven years ago as he described how the mirror had shown him his dead parents, and how only the intervention of Dumbledore had saved him from being fatally ensnared by the mirror.

"Ten points for wandering the halls at night – and another ten points for eavesdropping!" Professor McGonagall snapped. "A senior like yourself should be ashamed!"

"Late night studying again, Hermione?" Dumbledore said gently.

Hermione flushed again while Professor McGonagall, aghast, said "Again? Ten more points off Gryffindor."

He knew – he knew she went to the library at night! She had been so careful not to get caught too…

"I'm sorry" she whispered.

Professor McGonagall glared down at her and Dumbledore said in a kind yet firm voice "Yes, Hermione, it is the Mirror of Erised. But I would request of you that you don't let *everyone* know."

By that, he clearly meant don't tell anyone besides Harry, because they both knew that Harry, while nowadays the unsung hero of Hogwarts who had been in many perilous adventures, would nevertheless avoid the mirror if he knew it had been returned.

"I won't" she said resolutely. Her glance drifted back to the mirror despite herself. It looked so….innocent looking despite its grandeur. As if to draw closer and to stare in it would only reveal her intrigued face, as it did now. But she knew, deep in her heart, what she would see if she drew closer. She would see the face of he whom she so improbably loved… and then Dumbledore would somehow know, as he had somehow known what Harry had seen. And then He would find out, and he would sneer, and mock and give her an F on her assignments until the time she left Hogwarts forever.

She quickly looked away from the mirror and back to Dumbledore. To her surprise, for a moment she saw sympathy in his eyes. It was almost as if he knew, and was understanding, not angry. But that was crazy, wasn't it…

Hermione gulped. "I'll leave now – I'm really sorry!" and feeling distraught left the room. Once outside she took a deep shuddering break and sighed. The earlier rain had stopped and moonlight shone through the high windows in the corridor, casting radiant pools of light on the floor, making it easy for her to hurry along the corridor [with no stopping!] she told herself firmly, yet when she turned a corner she somehow failed to see the firm body she bumped into. [what?] she thought in bewilderment as she looked up, her eyes widening when she saw whom she had collided with. [oh no...not him, not now!]

"You have trouble sleeping, Miss Granger?" a silky voice inquired smoothly. Staring down at her, looking like a dark angel in the moonlight, a sneer on his pale face, was Professor Severus Snape.

At first glance Severus was not a handsome man, tall and intimidating in his ever present black robes, but you couldn't help but look at him again. His lank black hair always looked like it needed a good washing, even though he was quite fastidious about his personal hygiene, reserving many barbed comments for students with B.O. His high forehead and moonlight-pale skin indicated a scholar who avoided the outdoors whenever possible, while his icy black eyes that were quick to glare, and his wide thin mouth that was quick to sneer, indicated someone who saw little joy in life.

Students avoided his glance whenever possible, fearing the grim aura around him, fearing his baleful glare when they got a question wrong. It had been easy for Hermione to dislike him at the beginning for his arrogance and irritability. Surely, students often muttered, he was the real evil mastermind behind frequent dark plots against the school. He often treated students, especially those from Gryffindor, as if they were something nasty that had crept from under a stone, their sole purpose to be put into a potion to see what, if any, usefulness they possessed.

Hermione wasn't sure when, or why she had decided to unobtrusively study him more closely. Perhaps it had been to ascertain whether he posed a genuine threat to Hogwarts. Or perhaps it was because of the strange kinship her mind seemed to have with his brilliant one. Her observations had given her much to ponder.

He seemed to hate Harry, often berating him harshly, but at times she had caught him looking at Harry with worry and concern, and she had detected a faint look of anxiety in his eyes after Harry had been unconscious for a few days one time after another run in with You-Know-Who.

Students who fell behind in his class would be yelled at but he would always somehow find time to help them and allow that they had "some wretched potential" in a quiet voice when they caught up with the rest, even if they were Gryffindor students.

And so the more Hermione had looked, the more she had perceived that behind his scowl lay a man who felt unloved, who felt he was somehow unworthy of love. She had then, to her dismay and sorrow, found herself wishing that she could give him a hug when he was tired, a word of encouragement when the lines of stress and worry on his face deepened, a gentle kiss when he seemed lost in the shadows of his own mind. Nothing would ever come of this for he would not, could not ever love her, or feel the strange yearning she did for him when she was near. She had to be completely nuts….