It was a magnificent mirror, as high as the ceiling, with an ornate gold frame, standing on two clawed feet. There was an inscription carved around the top: Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi.
Her panic fading now that there was no sounds of Filch and Snape, Hermione moved nearer to the mirror, wanting to look at herself but see no reflection again. She stepped in front of it.
She had to clap her hands over her mouth to stop herself screaming. She whirled around. Her heart was pounding far more furiously than when the book had screamed – for she had seen not only herself in the mirror, but a whole crowd of people standing right behind her.
But the room was empty. Breathing very fast, she turned slowly back to the mirror.
There she was, reflected in it, white and scared-looking, and there, reflected behind her, were at least ten others. Hermione looked over her shoulder – but, still, no one was there. Or were they all invisible, too? Was she in fact in a room full of invisible people and this mirror's trick was that it reflected them, invisible or not?
She looked in the mirror again. A woman standing right behind her reflection was smiling at her and waving. She reached out a hand and felt the air behind her. If she was really there, she'd touch herm their reflections were so close together, but she only felt air – the woman and the others existed only in the mirror.
She was a very pretty woman. She had dark red hair and her eyes – her eyes are just like mine, Hermione thought, edging a little closer to the glass. Bright green – exactly the same shape, but then she noticed that she was crying; smiling, but crying at the same time. The tall, thin, brown-haired man standing next to her put his arm around her. He wore glasses, and his hair was very much untidy.
Hermione was so close to the mirror now that her nose was nearly touching that of her reflection.
"Mum?" she whispered. "Dad?"