It was now nearly a month into the school year, and Harry felt run down with all that had been going on. While Professor Freeman's class was deeply interesting, he was also relentless with homework assignments, and Harry felt he had spend countless hours scribbling down essays on roll after roll of parchment. On top of that, he had his duties as head boy, his other classes, and as the captain of the quidditch team he had been conducting tryouts for the past week.

He returned to his bedroom soaking with sweat from practice, his quidditch robes still on and well covered in grass stains and dirt. He flopped onto his bed with a heavy sigh of exhaustion, burying his face in the soft blankets that were coaxing him to ignore the piles of homework and give into sleep instead.

After a moment's internal struggle he heavily lifted himself from his covers and proceeded to undress from his practice garments. He was glad for one thing he decided as he tossed his shirt on the floor. Being infinitely busy had kept his mind from going to any of the dark places it was tempted to travel. He had little time to think about how much he missed his deceased friends, and even less time to pity himself for being single and without family.

Just as he realized that there was a silver lining to the cloud in his mind, his door popped open and he barely had a moment to grab his discarded shirt off the floor to block the view of his more personal regions before Hermione came bustling in.

"HERMIONE!" he shouted. "Do you ever knock?"

Hermione blushed a violent red and turned her eyes away, but not before taking a quick moment to gape at the growing definition in his arms and chest. Then she blushed even more.

"I'm sorry Harry" she said, but her voice betrayed a slight bit of laughter.

"Turn around" he demanded, and she obeyed, allowing his to quickly put his pants back on.

When she turned back he still stood there shirtless, and she felt a strange sense of uncomfortable as she realized that her wandering eyes were taking the initiative of checking out her best friend. Well, not the first time she admitted to herself with a bit of exasperation.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, and she realized this was the second time he was repeating himself. She had been too busy staring at his athletic build that she hadn't even heard him the first time.

"Um... oh, right. We were supposed to be studying for Advanced Charms no?"

"Yes, I'll meet you in the library. Just let me shower and... dress." He eyed her suspiciously and then silently she backed out the door with a great deal of awkwardness. Harry stood there a moment, unsure what to think, and then he simply laughed.

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Harry and Hermione had been studying for what felt like hours and his eyelids were getting impossible heavy. He yawned, stretching his arms in a gross demonstration of exhaustion.

"Yawn all you want Harry, you're not going to bed" Hermione advised, not looking up from the parchment on which she was furiously scribbling. "We still have another chapter to get through."

He looked at her glumly, but she ignored him, so he turned his attention to the darkened window, staring blankly into nothingness. When he finally spoke she nearly jumped, as the library had grown so quiet that the only sound accompanying her intense studying was the scratching of her quill. "A year ago I never would have guessed that this is where we would be. Just studying, the most normal, dull thing ever. Actually, a year ago I wouldn't have thought we would live to be this old."

She stopped writing and looked up at him, realizing how lucky were in that moment, to be together, alive and in the safety of the library studying. Harry looked deeply pensive in that moment, his emerald eyes glazed over, the faint, flickering light on their lantern casting sharp shadows across his face.

He's beautiful she realized with sudden jolt. She had always found Harry to be attractive, and had even carried a bit of a silly girlish crush on him their first couple years at Hogwarts. But in this moment she realized that he was nearly heart breakingly beautiful to her. She tore her eyes away and went back to her work.

She jumped once more after a long pause without him speaking. "Have you ever heard of Les Maudites?"

"The damned?" she asked, furrowing her brow in a way that he couldn't help but notice was sort of adorable. "That's what it means right? In French?"

"Do you speak French?" he asked with a glimmer of amusement in his eyes.

"A little. But no, I don't believe I know the context you're referring to."

He waved his hand as if to push the thought away. "I don't even know what just made me think of it. Professor Freeman mentioned it the first day of classes and it just popped into my head."

"Well, if you're interested in learning more, we ARE in a library."

"He said that Les Maudites are so ancient and rare they are hard to find information about. Anyways, I don't really care much."

It was her turn to give him a skeptical look, and she pushed his book closer to him. "Let's finish this already, okay?"

"Oh fine" he sighed, picking up his quill and getting back to work.

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Hermione was headed down to Hogsmeade to visit her boyfriend, and fulfilling her head girl duties of guiding the students there for their weekend trip. Harry walked far off in front of her, surrounded by a group of girls who seemed to endlessly find their way to slipping their arms through his, even when he shook them off.

It would have been amusing if it hadn't pissed her off so much. Of course girls would flock around Harry, he was one of the most famous wizards of all time; humble, heroic, wealthy and attractive. And most importantly, he was single. So it shouldn't have been bothering her really. Still, she found herself staring daggers in their general direction, wishing the display would just stop.

When they got into Hogsmeade there was a bustling of shoppers who were thrilled to see Harry Potter approaching the little wizarding village. "LOOK" shouted a man, "IT'S HARRY POTTER!"

There was a roar of applause and excitement, and she saw that Harry had ditched the flock of adoring females and was running in search for some privacy. Poor Harry Hermione thought, pulling up her hood. He hated attention but he was terrible at discretion. She kept her head down as she passed through the overzealous crowds of people, making her way to Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes.

She let out a sigh of relief as she finally squeezed past the last group of people and heard the welcoming "ding" of a bell as she entered the colorful shop. Children of all ages were gathered around different displays as she made her way past the aisles of pranks of all sorts. There was a loud BANG and a roar of laughter as one child was on the receiving end of an exploding practical joke. Hermione grinned, glad to see that a store was doing so well.

As she reached the back of the store, she saw a large group of girls clustered around the counter. They seemed very interested in something there, and they giggled in a nauseatingly flirtatious manner. And then she heard a familiar voice rising up from the group.

"...and that was when I realized that if we were going to win the chess match, I was going to have to sacrifice myself. Harry has never been much of a chess player, but he trusts me like a brother yah know? So there I was, only eleven years old, staring down this massive white queen piece..."

Ron stopped mid-sentence as his girlfriend emerged from the center of the girls who had surrounded him. "Ah Hermione! I was just telling everyone about the time we found the Sorcerer's Stone!"

He reached out to touch her arm but she jerked away, causing the girls around her to gasp slightly at the drama of witnessing a lovers spat between the most famous young couple in the world of magic. They had read all about the relationship between the two in Witch Weekly. They were like wizarding royalty.

"Ron, can we please speak in the back?" she asked, her voice tense.

"Sure" he shrugged, but his eyes showed that he knew he was in trouble, and his face paled a bit.

Once they were behind closed doors she whirled around quickly on him, a flash of anger in his eyes. Ron suddenly remembered how powerful she was and got a bit frightened, backing up a step.

"How dare you Ronald Weasley?"

"I don't understand..."

"You don't understand? Is this what you do everyday? Lounge about and allow a bunch of girls to fawn all over you?"

"Are you... jealous?" he asked, a tone of happiness in his voice in spite of himself.

"I'm not JEALOUS Ron, I'm ANGRY. I'm supposed to be your girlfriend, you could at least show a slight bit of respect for that! Are you seriously that daft? Now I see why you didn't want to come to Hogwarts, why go spend all your time with me studying when you can be praised daily as Ron the hero?"

"You're being unreasonable!" he exclaimed, puffing out his chest, his hot headedness suddenly rising up, his face turning red to match his hair. "Just because you have to act so humble all the time doesn't mean that I don't deserve a nice word here and there! I was just telling them stories!"

"It's wrong Ron!" she shouted, tears suddenly jumping from her eyes. "Those aren't just stories, those are our lives! You don't just share what we've been through, all that we've suffered... to some group of silly girls!"

She turned quickly, refusing to let him see her tears, and ran off before he could say anything else.

She pulled her hood up once more, this time to hide her tears as she ran off towards the Shrieking Shack, not sure where else to find a moment of solitude. How can he be such a prat?she thought to herself as she angrily walked through the leaves and into the woods. She had always known that Ron wasn't the most perceptive individual in the world, but she had hoped that he had grown up somehow.

She found a boulder and in a patch of sunlight and sat on it, pulling her hood back and letting the warm sun soak into her chestnut hair. She wiped the tears from her face with a jerky motion of frustration. It had been hard not to love with Ron. It had always been him and her, loyally following Harry together, sharing their concern for him in quiet whispers at night. At first she had found him insufferable and often rude. But quickly she realized that Ron had always been overlooked, always standing in the shadow of another. And in truth, he was a kind hearted boy who was brave and had a knack for making her laugh.

Despite all of this, she still wondered if it was right. She had dreamed of a future they might have together, but would always be like this? Would he always be saying the wrong thing, would they always be fighting?

As she pondered this she heard footsteps crunching through the leaves and looked up to see Harry approaching. She admittedly did not want to see him at this time, she needed to be alone with her thoughts.

"Did you come out here to escape the crowds too?" he asked, a slight smile on his face. But the smile suddenly faded as he drew closer. "Have you been crying?"

"Oh... well yes" she confessed, her shoulders slightly slouching.

He sat next to her on the large rock, dangling his feet over the edge and tilting his head back into the sunlight. "Why, might I ask?"

"It's silly... not even really worth getting into."

"Ron?" he asked, and she felt a jolt of surprise. She often forgot how well Harry knew her. As if he could read her mind.

"Yes... I told you, silly."

"He can be such an arse" Harry growled in a tone more angry than she expected. He often took Ron's side it seemed. "I'll go have a talk with him."

"Really Harry, you don't have to do that" she said, grabbing his wrist as he stood. "It's nothing so terrible him and I can't sort it through."

"Well, I believe you. But I'm still going to talk with him. It's about time I'd say, that we have a conversation."

She could tell by the resolve in his eyes that he was not going to back down and so she let him go, allowing her to return to the sanctuary of her thoughts.

Harry walked quickly to Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, managing to avoid any annoying fans asking for an autograph or a photo. He had come to visit Ron a couple times now, usually short visits that yielded little conversation. However, he knew how to enter through the back door and it was in the inventory room that he found Ron sitting, glumly counting extendable ears.

Ron looked up when he heard someone enter, excited that it might be Hermione, but when he saw it was just Harry he returned to his monotonous task. "Let me guess, Hermione sent you to talk some sense into her thickheaded prat of a boyfriend."

"No, I came of my own accord" Harry responded, his voice sullen as he crossed his arms over his chest. "We need to talk Ron."

Ron looked up now, surprised to hear such sternness in his best friend's voice.

"I understand why you didn't come back to Hogwarts" Harry began, "although, between you and I Ginny and Hermione both could have used you there. Hell, I could have used having my best mate there for the last year. It's been hard for us all being back at that school, but we're getting through it.

But I didn't come here because of that. Like I said, you had your reasons for not coming back, and I respect that you're watching after George, it can't be easy. But just because you're not at Hogwarts, that doesn't mean that you don't still have to act like a boyfriend, a brother or a best friend. Ever since you and Hermione started going together, I hardly ever see you. Since the last battle... it feels like I hardly have anyone, because for the first time I'm the third wheel in what used to be a trio."

Ron tried to protest, but he knew it was true. Even after the battle, he had been too concerned about him family and about being around Hermione... he had barely noticed Harry.

Harry continued. "And as for Ginny...as you know, things didn't exactly work out between us, and if she's half as lonely as I am she could use an occasional owl from her brother, or a lunch in Hogsmeade. And then there's Hermione... well, I don't know what to tell you there. But you need to treat her with all the respect she deserves, because you know she won't waste another tear on you if you keep up whatever it is you've been doing."

Ron was taken aback by Harry's words. Harry often cowered from social situations, and he certainly wasn't fond of giving advice. If anything, when it came to girls, Ron had been the one to offer up his thoughts far more often than Harry. But as he gaped at the raven haired boy, he realized there was a stinging truth to his words. He simply hadn't been a good friend.

Yet, as he realized the truth of this, he felt an old surge of defensiveness rise up in him like a wave. "Well, glad you got that out of your system mate. But listen, I don't really need advice from the likes of you do I? I'm sorry you're jealous that Hermione and I have got each other and you have no one. You botched things up with Ginny, and I can't be to blame for that. One thing is for sure, I am not taking relationship advice from you when you haven't been able to keep a girlfriend long enough for a decent snog."

Ron felt the words came out of his mouth with a hot fury. He wasn't sure why they were all tumbling out so viciously, but there they were, and if Harry felt hurt he didn't show it. His face was impassive, almost frighteningly placid. "I have followed you through hell Harry" Ron concluded. "Don't come in here and act like I haven't been a good friend to you. I'm your only friend."

Harry's green eyes stared long and hard at Ron and then he said, "You'll never change Ron. You're a good person, and a great wizard. But hell, you're too goddamn stubborn." He turned and left, and for the second time that day Ron was left to glumly deal with his own guilt.

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When Harry got back to the school he felt like he'd been kicked in the stomach. He had fought with Ron many times over the years, but this time it felt almost hopeless. He didn't want to complain to Hermione due the nature of her relationship with Ron. And just as with the letter from Mr. Anonymous, there was not a single person alive he felt comfortable confiding in.

How can I be one of the most famous wizards to ever live and still have no friends?he wondered. He knew it wasn't entirely true, he still had Hermione and many people both at Hogwarts and beyond its walls adored him. But he missed that connection he had with his best friend... that connection the three of them had shared in the past. When he truly reflected on the matter, Ron had broken that tie when he left them in the woods, and it had never fully mended.

As Harry entered the calm privacy of his room, and saw a letter sitting there on the bed. Mail typically came to the Great Hall, and so his stomach clenched up slightly at the sight of the mysterious envelop. With a feeling of anxiety he opened the letter and read it.

Dear Mr. Potter it began in the same elegant handwriting as Mr. Anonymous.

Please forgive the lapse in time between now and my last letter. I assure you, meeting with you remains my top priority. I am currently waiting to see how things fall into place.

Congratulations on your appointment as head boy. It is an honor, and I'm sure you will do the school of Hogwarts proud. In addition, I'm sure the school anticipates another thrilling year of Quidditch as you return to Gryffindor as seeker. I hope that your year thus far has been not only enjoyable, but also informative, and that you are learning a great deal.

However, I urge you to begin to look towards the future and consider the wizard you would like to become. I'm sure right now you are confused by my words, but it is my earnest hope that you will meditate on them a bit, until we speak next.

Until then, best of wishes as always. And remember Mr. Potter... your fate has still yet to be sealed.

Harry puzzled over the letter uncomfortably and then began to pace. Yet again, the tone of the note was decidedly pleasant and supportive, but there were plenty of odd notes included that made him wonder just what this Mr. Anonymous was getting at. Begin to look towards the future and consider the wizard you would like to become... Harry puzzled over the words, not sure what the mysterious writer was insinuating. It was certainly time to speak with someone, but who?

He tucked the letter away with the other one, feeling frustrated that the world couldn't just leave him well enough alone. Worse yet, however, he was frustrated that he had nobody to share his frustrations with. He kicked the chest in anger, stubbing his toe, which led him to yelp and hop around on one foot. He decided he needed to go for a fly to clear him mind.

When he arrived a the Quidditch pitch he saw that he was not alone. Someone was circling high above him, and so he kicked up off the ground, rising up to join the lone rider. As he lifted up into the air and came closer to the distant figure, he realized that it was Professor Freeman. The professor was sporting more casual garments than he wore to teach class, looking comfortable and poised in a black t-shirt and jeans. He grinned at Harry, waving easily as the wind cut through his sharply cut black hair.

Harry waved back, soaring closer so they might speak. "Out for a ride professor?" he asked, glad for a casual conversation.

"Yes, I love flying" Freeman admitted. "I actually played a few summers for the US team if you can believe that. It was when I was much younger mind you, and the US has never been as skilled at quidditch as you Europeans are. Seems you've had a a few hundred years on us in terms of training." He laughed and Harry found himself laughing as well.

"What position did you play?" Harry asked.

"Seeker."

"You don't say?" Harry marveled. "Me also."

"Must confess, I already knew that. As I said on the first day of class, you're very famous, even in the United States."

Harry shrugged, not wanting to get into the whole fame thing with his professor. He enjoyed the cool breeze on his face, deciding that coming out had calmed his nerves immeasurably. I've known loneliness worse than this he realized. Being locked in a cupboard for ten years with the Dursleys was definitely worse than this.

"Would you want to spar a bit?" Freeman asked, breaking Harry from his reverie.

"What?"

"I could grab the snitch and we could battle it out a bit. I mean, I haven't really played in a while but... why the hell not?"

Harry grinned at his professor, surprised and unsure at first if the man was being serious. But sure enough Freeman was dead serious. The older man seemed eager to try and catch the snitch, and so Harry agreed. They released the ball at ground level and each watched as it playfully zipped around their heads before shooting off at an impossible speed, becoming lost somewhere in the arena.

"You ready Potter?" Freeman asked with a challenging but lighthearted tone.

You bet old manHarry thought to himself. And without further hesitation the two darted from the ground, heading up high above the stands to look out for the snitch. Without the distraction of the game, it was much easier to calmly inspect his surroundings. He hovered there, looking for glint of the hidden orb.

After a few minutes of looping around the pitch, Harry saw Professor Freeman dive. Harry reacted with cat-like reflexes, swooping down in suit. The two men spiraled downwards at such speed that Harry felt his eyes water and his knuckles turned white as he clenched onto the handle of his Firebolt. He came neck and neck with the professor who had a determined look on his face. And another look... something Harry couldn't put his finger on.

A mere meter from the ground Freeman's face broke into a smile and pulled the broom back upwards, soaring straight up once more. Wronskei Feint Harry realized grudgingly. But then... no... it had all been a diversion. The snitch had been right behind Harry's head the entire time as they dove, and Freeman knew it! As he had cut back up he grabbed the snitch with a quick agile maneuver, plucking it from just above Harry's head.

Freeman laughed and Harry, who was initially annoyed, joined in as they touched down to the ground. The wings retracted into the small orb, and he tossed it easily to Harry. "That was luck really, I could have shit myself when I saw that the thing was just chilling out behind your back like that."

Harry gave him a small smile, half shocked to hear a professor swear so easily. "Well, that was some good flying professor."

"Thanks Potter, but you definitely had me on the way down. Had the snitch actually been there, you would have had that sucker. But I'm headed back to the Great Hall to get some food, if you'd like to walk with me."

"Sounds good" Harry nodded. As they walked and talked along the Hogwart's grounds, Harry was glad to have someone to talk with.

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Hermione had thought long and hard about her argument with Ron, and decided she would forgive him. She realized that she still had trust issues with him, but that was a hurdle she would need to cross with time. For now, she felt lonely and missed him. And the letter of apology he sent followed by a box of chocolate followed by a bouquet of flowers had somewhat lightened her mood. It had been nearly a week since their fight, and she decided he had suffered enough so she sent him an owl inviting him to come up sneak up to Hogwarts and meet her on rounds to go for a walk and talk.

Having sent the owl flying off towards Hogsmeade she felt a bit lighter, and she headed to the Great Hall for dinner. When she got there, she sat next to Harry, who was reading a letter when she arrived.

"Who wrote you?" she asked, helping herself to a full goblet of pumpkin juice.

"Nobody" he said dully, shoving the letter in his pocket.

She eyed him with suspicion. It wasn't like him to be so secretive, and years of experience had taught her when he was up to something. Still, it was clear from his sullen look that he did not want to discuss it, and so she knew she needed to find a better time to press the situation.

"Ron is coming to visit tonight" she said in nearly a whisper. He wasn't supposed to be coming onto the grounds since he wasn't a student, and he certainly wasn't supposed to be visiting while she was on rounds.

Harry said nothing to this, simply pushing the food on his plate around, which made her feel increasingly concerned. "What's wrong?" she asked him in an exasperated tone.

"Nothing" he lied again, pushing his plate away.

"What did you and Ron talk about last week?"

"Guy stuff" he blandly supplied. "Listen... Ron and I... well, it's complicated."

"Well, un-complicate it for me" she snapped.

Harry looked up at her suddenly, his green eyes flashing in annoyance, but then his look softened. He didn't want to be angry with her for no reason, and he also didn't want to damage what she felt for Ron just because he wasn't speaking to the red head at present. "We got in a bit of an argument, nothing that won't sort out eventually when we cool off."

"Oh" she said softly. "I hope it wasn't my fault."

"How could it be your fault?" he exclaimed, sounding almost angry by the fact that she would say such a thing. "It's between us, nothing you need to worry about. And-" Whatever he was about to say was cut off suddenly as a hand clamped down on his shoulder, diverting his attention. He looked up to see Professor Freeman standing there, a look of excitement glinting in her grey eyes.

"Hey Potter, I need to show you something after dinner. Meet me in my office." He reached over onto the table, grabbed a piece of bread and then walked over to speak briefly with Professor Flitwick.

"What was that about?" Hermione asked. Harry simply shrugged, rising slowly from the table. She watched as Freeman talked easily with the charms professor, laughing at something. The man was considered by many of the females at Hogwarts to be quite attractive, and he reminded her more than just a little of Harry. But there was something about him...

"Do you trust him?" she asked Harry, catching him by surprise as he went to leave the table.

"It's just nice to have someone to talk to" he responded. There was something in his tone that sounded like sadness, but she didn't have time to sort it out as he quickly left the hall.

Harry was feeling irritable over the subject of Ron, and he was glad for the distraction provided by his professor. In truth, he had no idea what Freeman wanted, and he felt his natural curiosity prickle as he headed for the professor's office.

Just before Hermione had arrived at dinner, he had received another letter from Mr. Anonymous. Yet again, no name was associated, but this one had a small amount of information directing him along with it's typical strange pleasantries. Have you ever heard the name of Anna Alvarez? A charming woman, in many ways than one- I'm sure her acquaintance would please you greatly.

Harry had long learned not to run head first into clues and hints from an unknown sender. Still, the mention of some sort of name gave him hope that he might eventually sort out the mystery of Mr. Anonymous. Just what I need he thought to himself, another bloody mystery to be solved.

He arrived at Professor Freedman's office just as the black haired man arrived at the door himself. "Impeccable timing Harry" Freeman greeted, unlocking the door with a swish of his wand. "Do come in."

It was the same office where Harry had once sat with Snape, the same office he had dealt with insufferable Lockhart and where Umbridge had punished him in a bloody and excruciating manner. He couldn't help but look around a moment, allowing the memories to wash over him. Professor Freeman seemed to understand this, and sat quietly waiting.

"You wanted to show me something Professor?"

"Ah yes, please, take a seat. I feel I may be a bit out of place with what I'm about to ask." The professor looked suddenly uncomfortable to Harry's suprise. He realized how poised and confident Freeman typically was by contrast. "You see, I was talking to the portrait of the famed Dumbledore. I had requested the privilege as part of being hired, and head mistress McGonagall had granted it to me. I had a specific question I wanted to ask, and I felt that what remined of Albus Dumbledore through his painting might be able to answer the question to me."

He paused a moment, and Harry sat still, interested in where the conversation was headed. "Just before I accepted the position of as professor for defense against dark arts, I had been on a mission for the Invisible Force. As I have mentioned, the nature of my previous employer was quite secretive, and I'm afraid I must keep it that way. I'm sure you'll understand however... we all have our secrets no?"

Harry couldn't have agreed more.

"Well, in that final mission I encountered a peculiar sort of magic. A small mirror that when looked into, allows a brief glimpse of what you heart most desires. And I researched this extensively and found a larger version of this mirror exists... the Mirror of Erised. I was naturally very interested, the Mirror of Erised is far more powerful than this trinket I found, and I had to ask Dumbledore's portrait if he had ever heard of it, if it still existed. You see, I believe magic like that, old and amazing as it is, ought to be preserved."

Harry nodded his agreement.

"Dumbledore's painting informed me that you had seen the mirror in the school on two occasions. He said little more than that, and I was wondering if there were any details you could fill me in on."

Harry would have been suspicious of such an inquiry, but Freeman's eyes danced with a sort of youthful amusement that did not suggest malice, but simply interest in the subject. Since the mirror was destroyed for all Harry knew, he did not see the harm in a simple response. "I saw the mirror on two occasion my first year here. Unfortunately, wherever it has gone since I could not say. I would guess that Dumbledore saw to it's safety after the debacle with the Sorcerer's Stone, but I couldn't really say. It was a brilliant piece of magic, I will always remember, but it could also be trap... Dumbledore once told me; 'Men have wasted away before it, not knowing if what they have seen is real, or even possible.'"

Freeman smiled. "His painting said a very similar thing, if not word for word. An echo of the former genius that was the famed Albus Dumbledore. Only that I could have met him in life. Well, thank-you for your help Harry, and as I said, I had something to show you... You can take a look at the mirror I found if you'd like. As I said, it's not nearly as powerful, but still..."

"Yes, I'd like to look please" Harry said eagerly. He wondered if he might glimpse his parents again as he had in his first year.

Freeman withdrew the mirror from his desk and handed it to Harry. It was a somewhat ornate hand-held looking glass, the sort a wealthy girl might have kept many years ago. It was decorated with ornate veins that molded into the silver metal and twisted down the handle. Harry carefully took the item from his professor and held it up, gazing at what was at first his own reflection. He felt uncomfortable for a moment, thinking it wasn't working, or perhaps Freeman was having a laugh at him.

And then it flashed.

It was only a glimpse as the professor had said, barely long enough to register in his mind, but he suddenly saw his heart's desire, and it was no longer Lilly and James Potter. It was Hermione Granger. Harry frowned, not liking this conclusion even though he had known it to be true for some time. He quickly handed the mirror back to Professor Freeman.

"You look less than pleased about the outcome" Freeman noted with a faint tone of teasing.

"I saw you giving me less homework from now on" Harry retorted, pulling a grin despite the aching pang that the mirror had brought to his heart.

Freeman could clearly tell that Harry was joking, but seem unfazed, as though he was fully aware that Harry would not be sharing his heart's desire with some teacher he hardly knew. "Well, one can always hope Potter" Freeman jested in return. "What do you say to a drink of firewhiskey?"

Harry was somewhat surprised by the offer, but then, based on Freeman's care-free nature it wasn't terribly shocking. At first Harry thought to resist, remembering what happened to Ron after accepting a drink from Slughorn. But then the thought of Ron made Harry want to the drink anyways.

Freeman poured two glasses half full and then raised his, toasting, "To friends lost, and friends yet to be found." Harry found this an easy toast to cheers to. Freeman switched the quidditch match on the radio, and they both listened in easy silence as they drank. And Harry was thankful for the company once more.

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Shortly before midnight, Hermione found Ron at the outskirts of the castle. He looked nervous to finally see her after their feud, and so as he approached he kissed her, quick and with surprising force. She could feel his lips on hers, sense the way he gripped her upper arms in the embrace, but she realized that was all she felt.

Maybe kisses aren't meant to be that dizzying, wobbly knees sensation that books make them out to beshe thought to herself after the embrace parted. He grinned at her in the darkness, his red hair falling partly over his eye in a messy, almost child-like manner.

He grabbed her hand as he had many times before, and she found comfort with her hand in his, but it wasn't romantic somehow. She didn't want to admit that to herself though. Maybe when the one who loves you touches you, you don't swoon the way they do in movies.

She nearly managed to convince herself of this as they crept along the walls of the great castle, the turrets and towers spiraling into the night sky high above their heads. Still, despite all her attempts to be logical, there was one nagging thought that kept pulling her back from the verge of comfortable. When I feel Harry near me, it's almost painful how right it feels. When he touches me my bones nearly ache with longing. When I hear his breathing, my world feels at peace.

Hermione Granger hated feeling like she might have made the wrong decision.