The arte of wandless magicke, as it was so aptly titled, felt heavy in Hermione's hands. Not because it was particularly heavy, per se, but because she knew that if she opened it, if she eagerly studied its contents as she wished to, she would have to give him what he wanted in return.
She almost kicked herself as he uttered his final word "knowledge". Of course that was what she wanted, of course that was what he had. It was obvious. And it was stupid. And it was so very, very tempting. He could teach her how to do wandless magic- wandless, wordless magic! Maybe it was a little redundant given that she had access to a wand, but there was something so enticing about the idea of performing spells without one, a certain prestige. And if he could do that just what else could he do, what else did he know, what else could he teach her? It was a thrilling offer.
But did she trust him?
Not quite.
It unsettled her that he knew exactly what would tempt her to let him come through. She didn't even really know him. Didn't even know his last name, protecting it with a disturbing vehemence that she wasn't sure she understood. At first she had thought it was merely a power move, retaining anonymity and therefore dominance, but she couldn't imagine him being that petty. There was something else behind it. Then there was the darkness that surrounded him. His dark eyes, his dark hair, his dark smirk. Handsome, far too handsome for a fourth year, far too charming for a teenage boy, far too eloquent too. Altogether still too polished to be taken at face value.
She looked up at Tom, taken aback to find him still at the threshold of the mirror, peering intently at her, calculating her response to his offer. He looked hopeful, eager, inquisitive. The intensity of it made her lips dry.
But she had already made up her mind. She moved the book towards him, about to speak when he snarled and snatched the book from her hand, roughly placing it on the desk in his room before running a hand through his hair irately. Her breath caught in her throat at the sudden chill that possessed the air. He was angry. Livid, in fact, and his frustration seemed to douse her, freezing her to the spot as he prowled back and forth before the mirror, thinking and occasionally shooting her a foul glance.
He was too angry to think. She was too scared to move.
Suddenly he stopped, taking a deep breath to steady himself. "Granger- no, Hermione, I believe we are on a first name basis aren't we?" He said with a sweet smile, but still with a cold impatience. "We have been presented with a magical object that possesses the power to give us what we desire beyond all else. We may not understand why it has done this, but the fact remains that we have an opportunity, an opportunity that we aren't certain is permanent." As he continued his voice grew firmer, warmer, more soothing. There yet remained a condescending edge to it, like he was talking to an unreasonable child, but one could almost ignore it when he made so much sense. "I have been accommodating to your request that I remain behind the glass but my patience wears thin, Hermione. I understand your passion to understand the mirror, to break it down in your mind, to research and test and explore, but our efforts have come to naught. You're a competent girl, I'm sure you realise there is little more that we can find on this obscure relic, certainly there is not even a brief mention of it linking worlds, or places, as it appears to be doing now. To learn more we must take a risk. Now I've been good enough to offer you something I believe would be in your best interests to accept, I am adept at magic for my age as I believe you too may be and I am willing to teach you anything it is within my power to teach… You only need let me through, Hermione." He ended his plea with a soft, imploring gaze, attempting to thaw the frost he had cast between them with his sudden rage.
Hermione bit her lip. What could she say? I can't let you through. But why? Because you're too perfect, because you have a dark aura, because thinking about those eyes makes my knees weak and my stomach twirl and it makes me feel sick and unsafe and if I give in to it I don't know what I might do… She couldn't say that. Think, Granger, think! "But there are so many things we don't know-" She started feebly.
He scoffed at her weak rebuttal. "Are you afraid of something?"
"What?" She burst, incredulous.
"Are you afraid of me? Do I scare you?"
"No, you aren't scary in the least. I've dealt with much worse than arrogant teenage boys."
"But you don't trust me."
"Well, I… No. I suppose I don't."
"If I had wanted to hurt you I would have done it already Granger. There is nothing to stop me from simply overpowering you, but I would prefer if things went more smoothly than that."
Hermione scoffed. "I'd like to see you try."
"Oh you would, would you? Was I barking up the wrong tree when I offered you books? Is it me you want instead?" Tom smirked and gave her a quick once over. "Not the worst girl to overpower."
"You're vulgar Tom, and just so you know, I wouldn't condescend to let you kiss the ground I walk on."
"Your impetuousness shows you truly aren't afraid of me so just what are you afraid of?"
"N-nothing. I simply wish to take the proper precautions."
He spent thirty seconds or so examining her face, smirking slightly as he did so. Why did he always have to look like he knew something she didn't? "Ah." He said finally, curling his lips up in a spitefully smug grin.
"What, Tom? What is so fascinating in my features?"
"You aren't really afraid of me. You're afraid of what you might want, of where it might lead. You, Hermione, are afraid of yourself."
"Oh shut up already. I don't care what you think you know you absolute twat, because in reality you know nothing about me…and I know even less about you. Which is exactly why I don't trust you. I don't pretend to know what it is you think is waiting for you here, but I do know that you're desperate to find out. I do know you'll try anything to get through. And I do know that the only thing keeping you from barging through is not, as you would have me believe, some chivalrous notion of respect and virtue, but the unknown. You don't know what lies between you and your desire here. You don't know what would happen if you hurt me, what that would do to the connection. And you don't know what I'm capable of. So shut up, and let me think."
Hermione stormed back to her seat, desperate to put any extra space at all between her and that presumptuous arse.
In the meantime Tom stared, half in awe and half in anger. How dare she tell him to shut up! How the air had cracked with magic as she scolded him! How insolent of her, she who wasn't even a spec of dirt before him. How bold of her, she who was so much more interesting than he could've imagined. The residue of her anger lingered still where she had stood. He wanted to reach out and grab it, harness it, bend it to his will.
Her lip felt raw by the time she had finished contemplating their predicament. She couldn't stall this much longer. Tom was right, they had exhausted all available sources of knowledge, there was nothing else to do but test the boundaries and the purpose of the mirror. That or just never come back.
But that hadn't lasted long last time.
She wished there was someone she could really talk to about it all but Ron wouldn't understand why she had to come back, and Harry was still having nightmares, and telling anyone meant risking their involvement, their invasion of her sacred space. The library had no books on the mirror let alone what to do when a mysterious mirror boy asked to come through. No friends and no library. The only other option was… Of course! If she phrased it carefully. She was bound to learn something new about the mirror that way. It would buy her some time even if she didn't learn anything new. And in the meantime she would think over his proposal and exactly what to offer him in return.
"Tom."
"Hermione?"
"I'll consider your offer. But first I have someone I need to consult."
Dumbledore's office was as confused as always. Hermione loved magic, but she couldn't help but feel that the assortment of magical devices and artefacts that littered his desk was a tad excessive. She didn't like how small and lost she felt among the clutter of magical thing-a-ma-jigs and what's-it's, she didn't like how disorganised and haphazard it seemed, and for once she didn't like how the wise professor's eyes twinkled knowingly across from her.
"What brings you to my office, Miss. Granger?"
Hermione cleared her throat before she began, still buying time to try and organise the things she needed to say. "Well, sir, I was doing a bit of light reading the other day, about ancient magical artefacts, and I came across an object that rather intrigued me but there was little said about it."
His eyes sparkled omnisciently. "And what might that object be?"
"I believe that it's called the Mirror of Erised, professor."
Dumbledore narrowed his eyes at her behind his half-moon spectacles. It was a sterner look than she was privy to in her dealings with the great wizard. It made her feel a little exposed. "I see." Was his only response as he continued to scrutinise her. Did he know she had found it? Could he tell that she was lying? Well she wasn't really lying. Lies of omission were still lies though, when it came down to it. She shifted in her chair somewhat uneasily. After another painfully uncomfortable moment he lifted his searching gaze but the solemnity of his next words sent a chill down her spine. "A very dangerous object that is, Miss. Granger. Not to be treated lightly. What is it that you wish to know?"
"Well professor, I'm aware that its function is to reflect the deepest desires of the person looking into it but I wondered, sir, if it were capable of doing anything else?"
"As far as I know, no. It is an ancient artefact, its makers long forgotten and its true purposes unknown but to those forgotten makers." Hermione's heart sank. If Dumbledore didn't know anything else about it them she'd have to go back… "However," Her ears perked up greedily. "While it has been documented that the mirror reveals one's heartfelt desires it has never been properly tested by any magic folk. And over the years it has been lost and found again many times, as I'm sure you know." His eyes twinkle again. "So it is impossible to say what the mirror is truly capable of but I would still recommend caution to any who came across it."
"Why is that, professor?" She asked, heart pounding in her chest. Why should she be cautious? Was he warning her against going back? What should she do?
"That which we desire most is not always what we need most."
Hermione frowned. "Of course. But… it isn't dark magic, is it, professor?"
"It is impossible to say. On the one hand it is a very invasive and terrifying power, to reflect one's desires. On the other, it seems like quite a bit of fun to solve the riddles of our hearts, does it not?" He smiled with his final addition, casting away the austere atmosphere that had come over the room since Hermione had mentioned the mirror.
"I suppose it does. Thank you for satisfying my curiosity professor, I knew that if anyone could help it would be you."
"Not at all, Miss. Granger. Not at all. It is always a pleasure to help the students of Hogwarts find their way."
Hermione smiled at his suggestive words and wondered if he simply knew everything. Or perhaps, she thought, he works like a horoscope, making vague statements that are easy to apply to any situation. Or maybe a placebo, using his riddle like sentiments to make people realise things they already know. After all, if he really knew that she had found the mirror he would probably move it like he did when Harry discovered it, or at least he would make sure that she didn't go back, not if it were dangerous. These thoughts flew through her as she made her way out of the office, but just before she made it Dumbledore's soft, plating voice reached out once more.
"Oh Miss. Granger. One more thing before you go. I am slightly worried I may have given you an overly pessimistic view on the subject of pursuing desires. All I wish to say is that a cup overflowing, even if it be filled with the finest butter beer, causes a mess."
How useful.
A/N: It has been forever. I apologise, but I have been very busy with exams so I have my reasons! Thank you for all the lovely reviews so far and every favourite and follow- I love you guys! And do not despair I have the next chapter all ready to tweak and send out asap so if this chapter intrigued you at all you won't have to wait too long! I hope you're still enjoying this piece and if you can't wait for the next chapter check out my first ever one shot Made For Me, you might like that too... 3
