Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

Chapter 8:

Mirror, Mirror

          Winter had descended on the grounds of Hogwarts, bringing chilly days and even colder nights beneath ever cloudy skies. And of course there was the anticipation, humming about the students like a fairy light, of that first glorious snowfall, and of home-cooked meals, and Christmas morning.

Unfortunately, December was a young month yet. There was quite a ways to go – a realization that made Ginny groan as often as it hit her. But that wasn't what was bothering her in the middle of a winter night.

She had lost her journal – yes, again. This time, however, she knew exactly where she had left it: by her seat at the Quidditch pitch. Since she and Ron had missed Harry's last practice on account of falling books they had gone to watch another one and… well, here she was, staring apprehensively up the stairwell that led to the boy's dormitories.

Sure, she could have waited until morning, but she knew (from a conversation between Ron and Harry) that the Slytherins had booked it first thing the next day. If one of them got their hands on her sketch of Draco… mere mortification wouldn't describe it.

That book is so much more trouble than it's worth, she groused as her foot connected with the first step. A simple trip to the kitchens was no problem, but the Quidditch pitch was halfway across the school and if she got caught she would never hear the end of it, and Harry wouldn't even have to know about it, and… Ginny bit her lip. The door between the Sixth Year's room and herself stood like a sentry in front of her.

Maybe no one would ever know, but the guilt would probably eat her alive. Oh well, at least her book would be safe.

She opened the door and made her way into the murky darkness of no-woman's land. It looked very, very similar to her own dorm room; the snoring was a little louder, and the arrangements a little different, but they were basically the same aside from those minor details. The small scrap of comfort let her breathing come easier, her steps more fluidly, and suddenly she realized she had blown the entire thing out of proportion. She was only going to borrow Harry's invisibility cloak to retrieve her book. That was all. Only that.

Actually finding Harry's bed, though, nearly made her lose her nerve. She peaked between the curtains until his face came into view, asleep and strangely foreign without the familiar round frames of his glasses. His trunk lay at the foot of his bed, and opening it proved to be more difficult than she had anticipated, wincing several times at the squeaking of the old hinges. It didn't have any of the hexes or magical locks commonly found to guard the secret treasures of other students and Ginny silently thanked Harry for being so simple.

She set aside a few sweaters and a pair of folded pants, and the shimmering fabric of the cloak sparkled at her from inside the great chest. Oh, Harry…She sighed in exasperation. He was The Boy Who Lived and the only defenses between an intruder and possibly his most valuable possession were a few articles of clothing? Even in her youthful ignorance, Ginny knew better than that.

In spite of it all her hands lowered to lift the cloak almost reverently. She swept it around herself, stared at the place her body used to be for just a moment, and set off for the pitch at a brisk walk. The sooner she got this over with, the better.

The halls at night were shadowed and eerily silent (with the exception of an indignant snort from the awakened fat lady). The paintings slumbered, unmoving in a way that was reminiscent of muggle works, in a way that emphasized the emptiness of the long stretches of stone floor and the silhouettes of the dead suits of armor cast in black across the walls. Even the stairs had ceased most movement, rumbling infrequently with their gruff, stone voices. The sound echoed dissonantly in the sleeping castle.  

It was enough to discourage the more timid students from an after-hours jaunt. Well, Ginny had never been said to be timid, but she couldn't keep from looking over her shoulder every once and a while. After all, any corner could conceal an ill-meaning haunt or a red-eyed, mewling Mrs. Norris or even worse – Filch, himself.

She was fairly sure the Prefects had already retired to bed, so the grimy caretaker was her only worry. Even if she did run into him, he wouldn't be able to see her. It was at this point that Ginny became supremely glad she had brought the invisibility cloak. She felt a measure of safety knowing she could see everything around her, but no one would even bat an eye at her passi – Abruptly the feeling of security fled.

Oddly enough, it decided to leave at the same time Ginny's heart leapt up her throat, her eyes widened, and she felt herself crash into something hard and solid and warm. Something she couldn't see.

"What in the bloody –"

Something that possessed the ability to speak, apparently. Something that possessed the ability to speak with a voice she recognized.

Ginny pulled the cloak off her head. "Malfoy!?"

The something pulled its cloak off its head. "Weasley!?"

Draco was sprawled on the ground his own invisibility cloak pooled in a silvery puddle beneath him. His hair shone, even without the aid of torchlight, looking a bit on the ruffled side to her, which was rare for him. In the darkness she could make out the green of his Quidditch robes (which looked more than good on him, not that she cared) and the expression of complete surprise that she supposed she was mirroring.

They sat like statues for a moment – that is until Ginny realized she was sitting like a statue straddling his waist. Dementors with giant flobberworms couldn't have made her move faster.

Face flaming, she remembered her manners well enough to offer down a hand to help him to his feet. Draco only gave her a disparaging look and got up himself, collecting his cloak in his arms. If she had been thinking beyond her embarrassment she probably could have predicted that reaction.

"I…" Ginny swallowed her words and began again, "you have an invisibility cloak?"

Oh, that was a brilliant one, she berated herself, perhaps next I ought to ask him if the sky is blue. Draco turned on the sarcasm, as she knew he would.

"No. Just a cloak that turns the wearer invisible," he snorted.

"Oh, shut it! I wasn't thinking."

"Wouldn't be the first time," she thought she heard him mutter. He continued in a slightly louder voice, though that wasn't saying much since they both spoke in hushed tones. "And I suppose that's Potter's old rag?"

"Ye – wait. How do you know about that?"

His malicious grin was enough to make her wonder if she really wanted to find out.

 Before he could answer, though, the cry of a cat pierced the darkness. Almost disbelievingly, Ginny turned her head and caught sight of Mrs. Norris padding towards them.

"See somethin' do you, my pet?" Filch's voice floated down the hall. "We'll get'm, don't you worry."

Through a haze of panic she met Draco's eyes, following him clumsily as he wrapped his long finders about her wrist and pulled her swiftly around the next corner. They didn't run long before he opened a heavy wooden door and ducked into the blackness.  She had no choice but to go in after him, the door closing behind them with a dull thud.

"W-where are we?" Ginny asked breathlessly, after a moment of silent panting – more to calm the unsteady fluttering of her heart than because of the short jog. Her wrist tingled where he had grabbed it and she rubbed the appendage self-consciously.

"No idea," he answered absently. She felt rather than saw him move away, which was understandable because she couldn't see her hand in front of her face. Whether the room stretched out for five or five-hundred feet in front of her she had no way of knowing. Draco must have taken out his wand because he muttered, "Lumos," and she winced at the sudden light.

She could see – the room turned out to be five-hundred feet. Or close to that, at least, and completely empty.

"What are we supposed to do now?" Her voice echoed in the silent chamber.

Draco shrugged. "Wait for a bit – just until Filch has gone."

"Hmm…" Ginny studied the room curiously, gaze sweeping from side to side until something caught her eye and tugged and wouldn't let go. She pulled out her wand, recited the same spell Draco had, and began moving forward.

"What are you doing?"

"I… I see something…"

He made an exasperated noise, but she could still hear his footsteps as he decided to follow her.

When she was close enough to see what it was, but certainly too far to touch, she stopped. And then she stared, and then she gasped; it was a mirror. The Mirror. And if Ron weren't such a chatterbox sometimes she would have never known it for what it was: The Mirror of Erised.

This must be where Dumbledore moved it… a small part of her noted. Her musings about what she might see in its dusty surface were cut off as she felt Draco come up behind her.

"What is this?" he asked, his glance at the artifact a cursory one.

"It's a mirror…" Ginny murmured, debating whether or not to sneak a look. A little one couldn't hurt…

"Thanks. I couldn't tell."

She decided to ignore the sarcasm. "It can show you your deepest desire."

"Really…" he said as if to himself, his interest renewed. "Are you going to look?"

"I-I'm not sure…"

"What? Scared of what you might see?"

"No! There's nothing to be scared of!" she snapped, then drew a breath. "Are you?"

He didn't answer – instead he strode forward and stood in front of the mirror. Ginny couldn't see his expression, but she thought she could make out his shoulders as they went rigid. For just a moment he was still as stone. When he turned back to her his face was impassive.

"What did you see?" she asked, even though she knew he would as soon kiss a blast-ended skrewt as he would give her a straight answer.

"Something… I didn't expect." He spoke without meeting her eyes, standing to the side, but not out of range of the mirror. "Are you going to look?"

"I guess so…"

Ginny stepped forward, biting her lip, watching her own reflection do the same. Then the image changed, just a bit, and she realized she had been dead wrong. Because if there was nothing to be scared of, then she wouldn't be shaking where she stood. If there was nothing to be scared of then the vision in front of her wouldn't be one of the most terrifying things she had seen in her life.

Her reflection smiled in purest happiness – certainly she looked happier than she had ever been in reality. This in itself was not a problem, but she wasn't just smiling, she was smiling against Draco's lips. Only it wasn't him, it was his image, and hers, intertwined beneath the dingy glass surface of Erised. Her reflection met Ginny's eyes, turning to face her, Draco's arm looped about her waist, and smiled. And Ginny could only watch as the image stood there – smiling, smiling, smiling…

I…I don't believe this…she thought. If she had spoken the words her voice would have shaken with fear. She was afraid, afraid that this was truly her desire because in her heart of hearts she knew it was and because in reality it couldn't possibly be Draco's as well. That image would never come to life. That smile would never grace the outside world. That happiness…

"Why do you still have those things?"     

Her head snapped up. "What?"

"Those pajamas," Draco nodded in the direction of her bedroom attire: the same white-pink nightgown she had worn when they met in the kitchens. "They're… umm… well, girlish." The word became an expletive on his lips.

"Ah, yes," Ginny deadpanned. "Girlish clothing on a girl; the worst of crimes."

He nodded, as if the cynicism had escaped him. "It is rather horrid, don't you think?"

"No. I love it."

"It's absolutely incredible." He seemed to pull the words from thin air, and she knew she was setting herself up for some sort of insult when she asked him what he meant by that. "How long you've been able to hide your lack of proper sight. Amazing."

The fear that had shaken her seemed suddenly trivial amidst their semi-friendly banter and teasing. She was happy like this. Happy enough.

"I don't think I have to point out to you that I was being sarcastic."

"Really? And you don't feel the urge to scrub your mouth out with soap*?" he asked her quizzically.

Ginny couldn't help it; she laughed. She hadn't laughed so hard in a long while, and when she was finished she found she had sunk to the floor, along with her reflection who sat comfortably in Draco's lap. Ridiculous… She quickly looked over at the real Draco and was surprised to discover that he had sat down as well and appeared to be studying her absently.

"Why were you out after-hours, anyway?" she asked as the thought occurred to her.

"Couldn't sleep," he told her with a shrug. "Thought I'd warm up the pitch since we've got practice first thing. And what about you? Off to meet with Potter for a late-night tryst?"

"No – I've told you I don't like Harry that way," she said with as much solemnity as she could muster, "And anyway I was going to meet with Neville." 

"Right. Longbottom. I should have known." He paused. "I hope you weren't serious when you said that just now."

"Oh, of course I was," said Ginny in mock surprise. She was enjoying this far too much. "Didn't you know? Neville and I are secret lovers." 

 Draco shuddered. "Please, never use that word in reference to that walking disaster again."

"Only for you, Malfoy," she giggled, resisting the crazy urge to call out 'Neville is my lover' many times in succession. After a moment her mind strayed back to more important matters. "Do you suppose it's safe out there now?"

 "One way to find out." He stood and stretched, then began back towards the door without offering to help her up. It irked her as much has she had expected it. She got up by herself and followed, Harry's cloak still clutched in her arms.

Filch had apparently gone, for the hall was as barren as it had been before Draco's appearance. Ginny swept the cloak around her shoulders in spite of the lack of eyes to see her. Draco had either done the same, or had already gone, so she silently took the long way around to the pitch and collected her journal without incident – though she couldn't help but stop to watch Draco fly for just a moment. When the moment passed she turned to head back to Gryffindor tower, wondering that she had seen him in the mirror and unaware that he was wondering the same thing.  

A/N: *This is a reference to the dialogue exchanged in chapter 3, but I wasn't sure if anyone would remember… my apologies if it seemed a bit obscure to you.

Important note: yes, I _did_ read Ace of Spade's fic 'Cries' (If you've never read any of her fics, go do so now), but I honestly had the idea before I read it and by the time I realized someone else had already used it I had already incorporated the idea into my story plan and didn't want to remove it, so… that's the sad tale. I think my fic and Ace of Spade's are so completely different, though, that it's not such a big deal, but still… I'm sorry!!

Eh… ok, I guess I'll answer some reviews, then:

Bulma Greenleaf: I don't think I'll have much problem avoiding those raging stampedes… you don't see to many of those, these days – it's a darn shame… *shakes head sadly*… Oh, well! I'm like the Energizer Bunny (which I don't own, in case you were wondering… Oh, you weren't? Well, ok, then…) I just keep going and going ^^! …Until I finish the story, anyway…

Cassie: This may be extremely stupid and ignorant of me, but… what's KKOL? @.@ I've never heard that before and it confuses me… hehe, sorry about the ending of that last chapter… but I'm glad you like the story!!!

Leena: Well, It's hard to write Draco and Ginny fanfiction _at all_ without OOC-ness, considering Draco is supposed to be pure evil in the actual books… but this is fanfiction, so who cares ^^? The answer: I do! Yipes! I'm always stressed over OOC-ness with this fic (I was so scared to read the reviews, I had to force myself look at them… sad, huh?) so it's relieving to hear I'm doing a good job!

Yami's Girl Forever: *drops chapter on the ground and backs slooooowly away from the chainsaw* hehe – look, I updated sort of quickly! Remember, if I'm horribly mutilated in a chainsaw accident I won't be able to continue this fic!! …So… Hermione/Harry, eh? The truth is, I don't know how to write Harry, so it's easier to have Ron paired with Herm – that way I can have less of Harry in the overall story (I am not above glossing over the details I know nothing about and am too lazy to research. You'll notice I've kept Voldemort completely out so far – well, it's going to stay that way! *laughs evilly*… mainly because I have no idea what to do with old Voldie… he's too complicated.). Now, I'm off to work on the next chapter – Bye! *Runs screaming from Chainsaw of Death*

The Girl Who Loves To Read: Well, maybe not a humane side so much as an 'I-don't-want-Ginny-to-do-me-bodily-harm-for-chucking-her book-out-the-window-so-I'd-better-get-out-of-here-before-she-finds-out' side, but still… he went to help, didn't he?

Mandy: ¡Hola, amiga! ¡Muchas Gracias! Whee – you must have had such fun speaking Spanish! I know I always do… Well, I have no idea how the weather is in England – I think it's rainy most if the time… oh well… I just won't talk much of the weather when the ball finally comes…