Title: 1.2 : Mirror of Erised : Vivid Dreams
Author: itsjoshua
Rating: M (NC-17)
Word count: 2 934
Status: finally edited, but not 100% perfect.
Summary: Hermione Granger faces a terrible dilemma when she accidentally travels through time and somehow comes into an unusual creature inheritance. Caught between a rock and a hard place, Hermione depends on a person she knows will only bring trouble.
Disclaimer: Can you imagine I would do if I owned Harry Potter? I would be freakin' cloud nine, but sadly, I don't. All rights go to J.K. Rowling you wrote it.

The devil can cite Scripture for his purpose. - William Shakespeare

The room is pure white - a blinding white.

I rub my eyes at the sight and wait for them to adjust. I blink a few times before truly focusing on the details of the room, if you can really call it a room.

I am not sure what heaven is like nor do I really believe in it. However, if I have to give this room a name I guess that's what it is - Heaven. It is so vibrant and beautiful, that I can only look at it with an awestruck face.

I felt calm and at peace with myself as if nothing can go wrong. Of course, that can never be the case, but I took the time to admire the room. I ran my fingers along the smooth wall and I wonder what am I doing here?

Am I dreaming? Or am I actually in heaven, forever dead, and never to awaken again.

I look down at myself and thumb the white simple toga that seems to embrace me. It is cool to the touch, but feels absolutely divine. It isn't quite normal, almost ethereal.

Where am I?

A loud sound of metal clashing to the ground causes my head to snap up from my simple attire.

My eyes widen at the sight and my breathe catches in my throat.

Before me stands the mirror that has turned my life upside down. Beautiful as ever, but now with a shimmery glow to it, the mirror stood proud and tall. It pulses with a magic that makes me yearn to touch it.

I walk towards it with hesitant steps and I realize, in the mirror, I look different once again. My hair is much longer, down to my waist, and hangs in soft curls; my eyes are a strange gold colour, brighter than usual. Indeed, there is definitely something strange going on.

I exam the etchings and ruins along the mirror much like I did before. I want to write them down so badly, but without a quill or parchment to use, I cannot do so.

"Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi" I mutter.

I repeat the phrase over and over again in my mind until I can recite it by heart.

"Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi" I say aloud.

My image shifts slightly and behind me, a boy - no a man approach's me from behind my images figure. He is tall with a thin, but lean frame, a chiseled jaw and wavy jet black hair that is parted to the side.

At first glance, he looks like an angel. A man so beautiful it is impossible for him to be human. However, something about him, just like this place, seems odd. He has a dark foreboding look as he looks right at me. He skims his fingers along my reflections arm and I swear I can feel it to.

"Who are you?" I whisper breathlessly and the man smirks. His fingers trail across my skin and to the collar bone of my neck. I open my mouth to repeat my question, but he grips my reflections neck in a tight grasp. I choke as I felt the tightening around my own and my eyes widen, once again, in shock.

I am still able to move freely, but no matter what I do, the pain will not go away.

I turn around wondering if he's behind me, but no one is there, just an empty white room.

I cough violently and claw at my neck in fear. What is happening?!

'STOP!' I try to yell but - but nothing came out except for a bunch of pitiful wheezes.

I can feel my body start to shut down and my vision start to blacken from the lack of oxygen. My fingers dig deep rough lines into my neck as I try to remove the invisible force that chokes me. However, it doesn't work and only leaves me with bloody gouges.

'My wand!' I think and I struggle to fight the urge to scratch my neck as I try to search my body for the piece of wood.

My hand pat's my toga quickly and roughly, leaving bloody prints, but nothing is found. I sway slightly on my feet and I struggle to stay upright.

'Where is it?!'

Suddenly, my neck is released from its tight hold and my body falls to the ground in a heap.

I cough violently and suck in large gulps of air as my hand goes to my bleeding neck.

"Little girl, little girl," I hear a voice taunt. It sounds so familiar, but I cannot grasp where exactly from.

I muster as much of my strength as possible and I look at the man in the mirror with cold eyes. It no longer holds the beauty I once thought it did. It has, so far, only caused me pain.

The image of myself is no longer there but the man still stood. His pale hand is shoved into his pockets as he wears a condescending smile. Fingers itch to slap that slimy smirk off his face, but something compels me not to.

'Break the mirror.'

The thought teases my mind, but I knew logically, that the mirror is my only way back home, back to the future.

"Little girl, little girl," he says once again in his taunting voice as he interrupts my thoughts.

I shakily get to my feet and try to summon as much of my Gryffindor courage as I can.

"What do you want?" I hiss.

The man only raises an eyebrow at my pitiful attempt at being brave.

"What do you want?" I repeat.

This time he smiles. But it is not a warm or sweet smile - no, it is cold and harsh one.

"Such an attitude," he tuts. He pulls his left hand out of his pocket. In his hand, he holds a single unicorn horn. It is long and sharp, and quite rare if you ask me.

He twiddles it ideally in his hands as if in deep thought.

"Do you know what you are little girl?" He questions. I am tempted to say, 'I am not a little girl,' but it seems too childish, so I hold it in.

"A witch," I say quickly.

He raises an eyebrow as if to say 'duh!'

"Guess again," he says.

I thought about it for a moment, before remembering what Headmaster Dippet and Professor Dumbledore told me.

"A- A mermaid," I mutter. The words tastes foul on my tongue, but I hold in my disgust. There is nothing wrong with being a magical creature, I remind myself as I think about Professor Lupin and even Dobby.

He does not looked shock that I knew who I am.

"Yes, but do you know what kind?"

I bite my lip in annoyance.

"No," I grind out.

He hums a mocking tune.

"Did you know that it's very hard to kill a mermaid? That only a single unicorn horn can do the trick," he says matter of factually.

I blanch at the sight of the unicorn horn as he raises it to my eye level.

"Now, to answer your previous question, little girl. There is only one thing I want and that is what I see in this mirror."

Wait - what?

"No -"

"Sweet dreams," he smirks.

With a flick of his wrist the unicorn horn is thrown threw the glass of the mirror at a blinding speed towards me and I scream.

I awake with a startling gasp. A searing pain runs through my neck and my hands try go to my neck, but are restrained to me sides. I turn my head to see a frazzle looking Ms. Melancolic and -

I scream again.

The man who stood next to me is the same man that haunted my dreams like a fucking plague.

I scream and I scream, "get away from me! Get away from me!" I sob in tears, but my pleas are ignored.

"Please! Please make it stop! Just make it stop!" I choke slightly on my deafening screams and I try to wiggle out of their grasps, but it's pointless.

"Cast it, Mr. Riddle!" Ms. Melancolic exclaims.

The next second a blue light engulfs me. It pierces my skin painlessly and freezes my bones and movements. Only my eyes move as I lay boneless in my bed.

"Please do not fret, Miss Hermione," Ms. Melancolic murmurs softly. I feel her hand grip my hand gently in hers and the other open my mouth gently. I squeeze my eyes shut as I feel a cool liquid running down my throat.

"Only a sleeping draught, dear, only a sleeping draught."

I feel the effects of it hit me immediately. I open my eyes tiredly and turn my gaze to the mysterious man, I want to question him or even scream some more, but he only stares at me with a hint of curiosity in his dark blue eyes.

Riddle.

The name sounds familiar and tugs at the edges of my memory. However, I cannot focus on it very much and before I knew it, my brain succumbs to the darkness of my mind once again.

I awake in the night to the dim glow of Hogwarts Infirmary. My neck feels sore and I touch it to feel a badge wrapped around it. Why is there-?

I pause in my train of thought. I suddenly remember the earlier incident and my dream.

Who is he? I remember the nurse saying his name, but for the life of me, I cannot remember. I rub at the itchy bandage and hiss in slight pain.

I sigh and look outside the nearby window.

I feel slightly unsettled and it's not just from the dream. I have this tingling feeling in the back of mind that something is going to happen. Whether it is good or bad is still the bigger question at hand. However, with the way that things have been going, it's probably bad. Since I've gotten here, I have not had one peaceful moment. Everything is just so nerve wrecking.

I sigh again, but this time in frustration. Easing myself into a sitting position, I take the time to look around my surroundings. It isn't much different from the infirmary in my time, but there is a large cabinet that I have never seen before. I feel the sudden urge to open it, but it's too far away and the last thing I want to do is make Ms. Melancolic even more suspicious of me if she catches me snooping.

Speaking of which, where is she and that man from before? I look around and I notice that Ms. Melancolic is nowhere to be seen. She's probably in her office and he probably ... left? I don't know.

The unsettling feeling I felt before comes back with a vengeance and I fear the worse.

However, it does not stop my curiosity.

Carefully and quietly I slip out of bed. My feet land on the cold tiles and I shiver at the feel on my bare feet. I walk slowly towards the cabinet and eye my surroundings to make sure I don't bump or step on any objects.

The cabinet looks new, but it definitely comes off a bit old fashioned. It looks like something my grandmother would have in her house.

I let my fingers glide against the glossy surface before grasping the glimmer gold knobs. Pulling the cabinet doors open slightly, it registers through my mind that there isn't any wards protecting whatever is inside.

I open the doors a bit wider and peer inside. It is a little too dark to see what is inside, due to the very few candles, but I can make out a few potion bottles here and there.

I pick one up and read it, 'Angel's Trumphet Draught.'

What is this? I turn the bottle over and over in my hand. It is a potion I never heard of. It is a shimmery milky white and glimmers like stars in the night sky. I took note of the name so I could hopefully research it -

"And what do you think you're doing?" I spin around and clutch the bottle to my chest in fright.

It is the man from before, both in my dreams and in my memory. What I remember does not do him any justice. His looks were that of a beautiful man. However, there is something that tells me that there is more to him than just his pretty ol' face.

Who is he?

The answer is there but I couldn't quite grasp it.

"Miss. Hermione," he greets me, his lips spreading into a small smirk. "Putting your hands where it shouldn't be?"

I give him a nervous smile. He frightens me, it wasn't so much the look on his face, but his aura. It just didn't match with his innocent look. It felt dark and brooding as if he has many untold secrets.

If he can have secrets then I can have secrets too.

I carefully mask my face into a blank sheet, hoping to not show anything.

"Just seeing if theirs any pain relief potion. My neck is really sore," I lie gesturing to the bandages that cover my neck. His eyes briefly flicker to there before going back to my eyes.

He raises an eyebrow.

"And you didn't you call for Ms. Melancolic to get you one." It isn't a question, not really; It is more of an accusation. "I'm sure she wouldn't mind," he continues.

"It's late. I didn't want to wake her."

He hums in reply and smoothly walks closer to me. He outstretches his hand with his palm facing upward. He looks down to the potion in my hand and back to my burning gaze.

He wants the potion.

I look him straight in the eyes and I suddenly feel light and somewhat dizzy, maybe even a little overwhelmed. I feel a tug - the urge to do what he says as if I'm being compelled. I slowly let my hand with the potion inch towards him, but -

But what?

What is wrong with him? He looks nice.

Don't give it to him!

Why?

Don't give it to him! I shout in my head and I hesitate slightly before I stop altogether.

It dawns on me what is happening. I look at him with a sly smirk of my own and let my arm fall limply to my side.

"You should really work on your Imperius skills, sir," I grin sweetly.

I saw a brief flash of shock run through his eyes before they were hidden behind the mask of his dark blue eyes.

"Imperius? Why would I ever do that?" He asks innocently.

"Well, who am I to know why you do what you do?" I question.

He glares.

I feel my sides for my wand and I curse when I don't. Just like my dream.

"Looking for this?" He lifts a hand and in his pale long fingers held my wand.

"Quite an interesting piece," he starts as he twirls my wand in his hand, much like he did with the unicorn horn in my dream.

"Give that back." I hiss.

He ignores me.

"Eleven inch vine wood, with a dragon heartstring for a core." He swishes my wand sending a burst of light through the air, illuminating both our faces.

A grind my teeth.

Wordless magic.

Well the, two can play at that game.

I flick my hand and my wand comes soaring out of his unsuspecting hand into my own. I smirk.

He doesn't show any hint of emotion and - and that made be feel greatly unsettled.

"Who are you exactly, Miss. Hermione?" He asks in calm tone, but there's something he's hiding.

"No offence, sir, but I don't even know who are." I jab.

He has the decency to look apologetic, but I know it's false, I can see it in his eyes. "Riddle. Tom Riddle."

I stop.

Tom Riddle.

Tom fucking Riddle.

He isn't just my nightmare, but he's everyone's nightmare.

You have got to be kidding.

Author's Note:

So here's another chapter. I think what I'll try doing is posting a new chapter every weekend. I make no promises but that's my goal. I'm sort of looking for someone to beta my story, I did sort of edit the last chapter and added some new things. Uh, if you have any ideas for the next chapter feel free to let me know. I'll dedicate it to you if you do and I use it.

- itsjoshua