Title: When The Stars Go Blue

Author: FireOpal

Summary: Did you ever wonder what Hermione might've seen, had she looked into the Mirror of Erised in her first year? And did you ever think about whatmight've happened after Harry passed out? Did you ever speculate if there couldn't have been something prophetic about the Mirror after all?

Genre: Angst.

Pairings: HG/RW, HP/GW.

SONGFIC: 'When The Stars Go Blue' originally by Bryan Adams, this version by the Corrs, featuring Bono.

11/05/2005 – Amendments made to lyrics when I discovered you weren't allowed to post lyrics in stories! Oops. Full original available via my profile page. Apologies guys.

I first thought of this fanfic a while ago, then heard this, rather haunting song and knew I had to add it. Ah, fate it seems had a good hand on this round. And then I thought about what Ron mentions in the 'Philosopher's Stone' –

"Do you think this mirror tells the future?" (p155 – The Mirror of Erised.). And so, with this quote in mind, I leave you to the story.


"HARRY!"

"Contain yourself, Miss Granger. I must take Harry up to the hospital wing."

"Of course, Professor. Is he, is he going to be alright?"

"Of course Miss Granger. Now if you would- "

"Sorry Professor."

Hermione stood aside as Professor Dumbledore walked past her, levitating Harrys' unconscious form with his wand. He nodded to her as he walked past, and even gave her a small smile, but she still shivered, white faced and dirt-covered. The night had been a long one, and she was dreadfully worried about her friends. Just as she turned from the fateful room where Harry had been found, clutching the blood red stone tightly, she noticed a stick on the floor. As she bent down to pick it up, her fingers closing around the smooth wood of Harrys' wand, she felt a surge of energy from it. Lifting it up to the dim light, she examined it carefully, but saw nothing unusual, so pocketed it, to give it back to her friend later. As she turned to leave for a second time, she saw a glint, light reflected off of something at the far end of the room.

Glancing at the door nervously, she wondered whether she should investigate. After all, they weren't supposed to be down here at all, and were probably going to get expelled. However, her innate curiosity won over, and, flicking back her untameable bushy hair, she walked cautiously down the stone steps, her small feet making a lot of noise.

(Verse 1)

As she drew closer, she realised that it wasn't just metal, it was a mirror. A large, heavily decorated mirror, ornate and grand. For a second, she stood to one side, (already cautious of wizarding items) and suddenly noticed what looked like writing at the top.

Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi.

For a few minutes, she stood, young face contorted in a puzzled frown as she studied the gothic script. Then, it smoothed, and she smiled, and recited to herself under her breath as she figured out the code.

"Is, no I shown, show, not your fa, face, but yourhe your hearts des, desire!" Her soft brown eyes twinkled, and she reran the sentence to understand it properly. "I show not your face, but your heart's desire."

Suddenly, she felt a shiver down her spine, and her breath quickened. Her heart's desire… What would it show? Had Harry seen this? Who had made such a mirror?

Without feeling as if she was actually in control of her own body, her legs stepped in front of the mirror, her eyes closing nervously. After a few seconds waiting, and now feeling foolish (something Hermione hates), she opened one eye, and, seeing no immediate danger, opened the other, and stared at the image in front of her.

(Verse 2)

It seemed to be an older girl, with long, curly, beautiful brown hair, which sparkled in the sunlight. They were outside Hermione realised, the sun was shining, and the girl was standing beside the lake outside of Hogwarts. She had bright brown eyes, which twinkled with happiness, and, with a jolt, Hermione realised it was her. An older her. In this image, she appeared to be about seventeen, maybe eighteen and wearing well-cut robes in graduations of blue. Looking around the rest of the picture, she saw a tall, lean man of the same age had his arms around her, laughing silently, and occasionally reaching down to peck her cheek. His robes must've been made to fit his hair, as they were dark blue. He had mounds of freckles, and bright red hair, which could only mean one thing… Ron Weasley.

Hermione laughed, the nervous sound echoing through the forbidding room, but the effect was lost on her. Here she was, being kissed by none other than Ronald Weasley, chess player, and crazy idiot extraordinaire. It was laughable!

Tearing her eyes away from the happy scene, she looked around, and recognised Harry's distinctive never-been-brushed raven hair and emerald eyes. He was laughing too, a wide grin spread across his face, and he looked happy and carefree. His clothes were robes too, long and impressive in deep jet black, with carefully sown threads of deep ruby and gold, which caught the light. He had his arms around a girl too, and younger girl, maybe sixteen or seventeen, and judging by the hair, she was another Weasley. She was very pretty, with joy and love filled chocolate eyes and poker straight red hair, which fluttered in the wind. Her robes, more like a dress, was in the colour of a meadow – bright green and floaty, with delicate golden embroidery.

With a pang, the clever witch realised what this represented. Here, in the mirror, she had friends. She had someone who loved her (even if it was Ron Weasley), and she was happy. Yes, she had her parents, but they were muggles and didn't understand her. Maybe they never had. But here, she was with people of her own kind, laughing, joking, loving…

(Chorus)

A lonely tear coursed it's way across her grimy cheek, leaving a clean streak. It was quickly followed by another as Hermione continued to gaze at the happy scene. How she wished she were these people, so happy, so understood, so loved. Not lonely. Trying to keep her slipping composure, the young girl brushed at the stream of tears, but as they were quickly replaced by more, she soon gave up. Hermione watched hypnotised as the image-Ron leant across her to kiss her lightly on the cheek, and the image-Hermione giggled and leant back to kiss him on the lips. The lonely girl just touched her face gently with her hand, just where the image-Ron had kissed her, no, the image-Hermione.

(Verse 3)

Suddenly, the images moved, as if standing and posing for a group photo. The image Ron stood at the back, being much taller than anyone else, and the younger Weasley stood at the front, leaning dramatically over the image-Harry, her white arms flung out as if she had feinted. The image-Harry was struggling against a laugh, and grinned hugely at her, and Hermione couldn't help grinning back. The image-Hermione batted the red-heads arm gently, and the younger girl stuck her tongue out playfully, before assuming a more composed pose. They were all smiling, image-Hermione was smiling toothily, and young Hermione couldn't help but notice her straight teeth. So perfect.

(Chorus)

All of a sudden, a voice in her head seemed to cut through her dazed thoughts. It was maybe her own, or maybe someone older and with a deeper voice, like Professor Dumbledore.

'It does not do to dwell on dreams, and forget to live…'

Her mind now rescued from the chaos the images had caused, she turned quickly from the mirror, and ran from the room, intent on finding her friends, and making sure they were alright.

Hermione was standing in her best robes, blue, which were deep at the bottom, and lightened as they reached her arms, on the grounds of Hogwarts. She was laughing; she was now seventeen, and graduating from Hogwarts. Harry had managed to defeat Voldemort for the final time nearly a month ago, she was alive, her friends were alive, and they were going out into the world. Her boyfriend/fiancé had his arms around her, and kept kissing her. She couldn't be happier, especially when she noticed Harry out of the corner of her eye, with his girlfriend, Ginny. Ginny's robes really looked magnificent, as did Harrys'. She was wearing a floaty green with gold embroidery, and he was wearing a deep impressive set inlaid with red and gold. The same robes they had all worn when they had collected their Order of Merlin: First Class each.

"Hermione, pay attention, Colin wants to take a photo!" Ginny yelled, as the younger boy tried to get his victims, aha, customers better arranged. Ron moved to stand behind the group, being so much taller than them, Harry stood beside her, a dramatically posed Ginny flinging herself on him. She batted her best friends' arms gently, and grinned as the red head put her tongue out at her. As she stood and gave the nervous photographer a toothy smile, she felt a sudden shiver, a sense of something. In her minds eye, she was dragged back to her first year, a scene she had seen in a mirror, a special mirror. But the thought was quickly thrown aside as Ron kissed her cheek, and she reached behind to kiss him properly. She was loved.

"SMILE!" Flash. The crack of the photo being taken.

(Chorus)