DISCLAIMER: I do NOT own Harry Potter or any of its characters. I also do not make any money from this.

WARNINGS: Yaoi (male x male), Yuri (female x female) adult topics, swearing, sexual scenes and violence.

This has not been Beta'd.

PAIRINGS: Ron x Hermoine

A/N: Some people might seem a little OOC. There will be times where their characters will be more like themselves, but I tried to make them more mature. My viewpoint is that war changes people, hopefully towards a more mature take on life. Please tell me if you find the OOC a bit too much so I can change it right away.

'text' is thought

"text" talking

Hidden Element

Chapter 3: The First Clue

Hermione and Ginny had been asked to provide a joint lesson in transfiguration at Hogwarts to provide examples of how useful the subject can be in life and death situations as well as house hold charms. It was also a ploy to enter the grounds without 'adult' supervision, which in itself was a joke as most of them were already in their twenties. No one would be on the lookout for two temporary instructors, and papers would be seen as graded material, all easily explainable.

If they were caught unannounced in a predicament, they could explain it away with nostalgia and a need to explore the Hogwarts halls once more. They were anxious of course, hoping they wouldn't seem too suspicious.

But it was easy to get lost in the memories; Hermione running after Ron for stealing her work, Neville hiding behind a statue not wanting to go to potions, even their midnight missions under the invisibility cloak; they were still so young back then.

"I solemnly swear I'm up to no good." Black ink burst out of the wands tip, making complex walls and winding passages, dotting a person here and there as it whirled. The map clearly showed two dots standing side by side in a deserted corridor on the first floor, names clearly penned in flowing ink.

They searched the maps contents eagerly, anxiously waiting to see if Hermione's conclusion had been correct. No artifact had been named and no classroom with a nice pointy arrow appeared. However, in an inconspicuous classroom on the third floor was a dot of a human that couldn't possibly have been there. There, snugly fitted between paper walls, was the name 'Harry Potter'.

Of course, at that moment, one Harry Potter was safely hidden at their temporary 'home' for the simple fact that he did not wish the Order to know about his return. For some reason, Dumbledore had entrusted clues to him, and not the order.

Harry also knew the minute he showed up on their doorstep, that they would do everything in their power to keep him annoyingly safe and protected. Perhaps there was more to it than that. According to the rest of the group, the Order had pushed them away, stating that they shouldn't have to fight any more battles.

But the fact remained, that Harry Potter should not have been innocently standing in a classroom on the third floor.

With a quick "Mischief managed", Hermione rolled up the scroll and tucked it into her trusty brown book bag. It was easy to see that this classroom had not been used in many years. White rag sheets hung over chairs and tables in feeble attempts to keep them from dust. In terms of a classroom, it was reasonably big in size, and its piled chairs and tables hid much of the contents of the room from sight.

It was surely a questionable room to have in the castle. Ginny had almost given up the search with a heavy sigh, before she came across a large object covered in multiple layers of cloth against the far wall. Nervously, Ginny inched over, almost reluctant to find out what was behind the looming objects veil. With a rough jerk of her hand, the cloth came tumbling down.

In front of her stood a mirror of incredible height, shining among the be-speckled furniture. Its silver frame was rounded; swirls inscribed in its top most edges. Above it in tight curvy letters read the words: 'erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi'.

"Mione, I have something!"

Hermione walked calmly to where the red-head stood staring at an immaculately clean mirror. A mirror, really? Upon closer inspection, she sensed that something about this mirror was not of the normal variety.

"I show not your face but your heart's desire." At Hermione's shocked expression, Ginny hid a smirk of pride that she'd figured out the twisted meaning behind the mirror first.

"The words at the top of the mirror. Turn them backwards like a mirrors image, then you have: I show not your face but your heart's desire." Hermione's face instantly swirled into one of recognition. She'd never seen this mirror in person, but she'd known two eleven year-old boys that had talked to her about their reflected futures (as they had seen it back then). Of course, she had never believed it at first as she'd never seen it in all her wondering, but the depth of emotion on Harry's face when he had believed full heartedly that his parents would come back, or the obsession of merely looking at them at night, had been 100 per cent real.

"Back in first year, Harry went missing at night for hours on end; I remember being so worried about his health. I'd first thought it to be insomnia, then merely a strong paranoia to see something remotely familiar and safe in this chaotic new world he found himself in. He'd found a mirror in which he saw his parents reflected back at him. Dumbledore called it the mirror of Erised. Desire spelt backwards. It would show you what you most desired at that point in time." Ginny stood before the mirror, blushing and suddenly shy.

While Hermione had explained the situation involving the mirror and how it had been found, Ginny had decided to take a look for herself. What she had seen was nowhere near what she had expected to find. It wasn't completely impossible, but it had been the furthest thing from her mind. It was impossible to think she had a girly crush on anyone in the time she had decided to create her own independence. The two objectives clashed.

After her almost obsession with Harry, Ginny had come to terms that her variation of love was blinkered and border-line stalkerish. At least that's what she'd thought when she finally had time to look at it from afar. It was also possibly the reason why Harry had drifted from her in the first place into the arms of another.

She was embarrassed at the situation she'd placed herself in, beyond horrified at the things she saw herself do and say when jealousy escaped her throat. She had loved him, that is fact, but her way of showing her love so foolishly and insistently, was just a way of saying she had been too immature to use or place the feelings she had gained. She had been too young to know what to do with them or even what exactly the word love had meant.

Ginny was in desperate need of growing up, even now she could see old pieces of herself reflected back, and that just wouldn't do. She had been adequate for Voldemorts defeat; she had been fine with the life presented after. What she needed when it came to this new disaster was to show maximum maturity, show what she'd learnt and gained. She needed to be great, and having a crush could possibly tumble the mental pyramid she had built for herself.

She knew how much Harry longed for family of any kind, that he'd seen his family within the mirror of desire, especially in the confusion of first year, made complete sense to her. Thus, it was probable that the mirror was truly magical in the sense that it showed your foremost desire, and that she did, in fact, have a crush on someone she hadn't thought she had. She gave a sheepish grin to Hermione and shook her head in a plea not to ask. Of course, when she'd come to terms with it, Luna would be the first to find out, but Hermione would be close behind, and she knew that fact.

Hermione had heard the story many times, Harry himself had told her. Dumbledore had hidden the philosopher's stone in the mirror during their first year. Only a person that had wanted to see the stone, but not use it, would have received it. She stood determinedly before the mirror, closing her eyes briefly, and then opening them slowly. She saw her own reflection, and beside it the image of a person she longed to find as much as she had longed to find Harry, unchanged in age for she no longer knew how her maid of honour to-be would look like.

'OK, what do I know? The mirror was labelled as Harry on the map. Maybe the mirror is reluctant to give whatever secrets it holds to anyone but Harry. If the mirror could sense desire, it should be capable of perceiving human thought or emotion on some level. It would know the difference between right and wrong if it wouldn't entrust its secrets to just anyone. I don't need to speak to it for it sees what I want, meaning that it reads my thoughts.

'I want to find whatever it is your hiding, I do, and I'm a curious being, I will by no means deny that fact. However, I don't seek this knowledge for myself. I will give whatever it is you hold straight to Harry.' The mirror groaned in awakening and its surface rippled slightly, the desire in front of her changing as the folds of glass smoothed out just as quickly.

A small boy appeared, standing beside her, only eight or nine years of age. His hair was a mousy brown mop, his skin tan and looking as if he still hadn't received a growth spurt of any kind. What shocked her were his eyes. They were a foggy yellow, a kind she had only seen on professor Lupin when the full moon was only in a few days time. It was quite possible that she was looking down at a werewolf cub. His voice was rough and raw, but small all the same.

"Come find us," he said, looking curiously into her eyes, before he slowly stood on his toes and slipped something into her pocket. She felt no weight, but didn't dare go back on what she'd told the mirror she'd do.

"We're waiting," he said one final time, before she was left once more with the image of the previous person she'd wanted to find.

"'Mione?" Ginny asked softly in worry. Her friend hadn't responded for a while to her voice, and she'd been scared that what Hermione had seen in the mirror was something of world-turning proportions. Hermione slowly turned to her with a show of determination.

"Got it Gin, but I promised that Harry would be the first to find out. Trust me on this one; it's too complex to explain here and now. We need to leave before the wards tell the headmistress we've been in here for a very long time. She'll get suspicious since there is no actual connection to us and a room that hasn't been used." Both agreed that they'd first split up and meet a few of the professors before individually moving to their allocated apparition point.

By the time that Hermione had arrived at the den, Harry, Neville, Ron and Ginny were restlessly seated by the round table. Although their chatter was light and full of humour, one could say it was slightly forced as the impatience and nervousness seeped into them ever since Ginny's declaration of having found something at Hogwarts.

"Finally!" Harry gasped as he saw the fireplace move to the side to allow Hermione entrance.

"If you were so impatient, you could have done this yourself instead of hiding behind me and waiting for me to clean my tracks after doing you a massive favour," she sniped. It had been exciting to find whatever it was that was in her pocket, but she still remained angered at the fact that she had jeopardized herself for that clue to return to an impatient and somewhat ungrateful sounding "finally!"

"I'm sorry," she said softly with a sigh before making her way to the table. "It was uncalled for, and I understand that the situation you're in must be hard." Harry clenched his fists briefly before letting out a sigh of his own.

"No. I'm sorry. It's just, I feel like I'm not helping, I can't stand just sitting here and reading while everyone else does the important stuff. It's making me crazy!" Ron could only laugh at this. Here was another trait that Harry hadn't outgrown. Well, only one more thing they had in common (apart from the fact that Harry would actually read the books if they were in front of him, while Ron lounged in the chair, tipping himself over more often than not).

"I can't stand still either though mate, I get it, but just for now, you have to." Neville agreed with a slight sound and a nod.

"More importantly, 'Moine has a clue. I think that this clue would be adequate enough for Harry to lay low and research it. After all, the clue is vital, you won't just skip it to do some heroic deed out there when this has the potential to be this important."

"Thanks, Neville. And I do not just randomly go bounding around the place looking for people to save. It's just that when I see someone in need, I help. Fine, maybe I like saving people, but that's not a crime either, besides I'm uncomfortable talking about myself as some kind of superman. I'm not; I've merely been blessed by fate with the skill to help others."

"Harry..." Ginny whispered. "The boy I knew thought his power and fate a curse. The man before me sees it as a way of helping those who can't help themselves. You have no idea how proud I am to be your friend because of that." Harry smiled awkwardly, he still didn't like it when people praised him about being the boy who lived, but he supposed as the boy who could help, he could see why a power like his could be respected and feared. In a way, magic really did influence perspective of a person, even friends.

"I thought about it, long and hard. My whole life I've hated the power I have, but in the end, if I hadn't had this power more of the people I loved would be dead. I wouldn't have known half of the things I had, and I would never have done most of the things I did, nor would I have met the people who changed my life. What if someone else had this power? What if they had made different decisions? Wrong decisions? I'm not saying mine were all correct and I did everything brilliantly, but in a way, I'm happy it was me and not somebody else.

"I like that I can save people, I like that I can balance the Earth, and after the life I'd led, I deserve to have a great achievement in my life. I feel happy knowing no one grows up like I did, or even worse. That I can make a difference to someone else's life is important to me."

He could feel the smiles around him, and for a brief second he was angry at the adoration that shone in their eyes. However, when he tilted his head just so to the side and cleared his mind of anger, it looked more like 'proud'. It washed over him abruptly, and he almost gasped in a breath he hadn't known he'd held.

They were proud of him. Proud that he'd grown up to be the man they saw before him. Proud that he'd figured out the things they'd known all along. It was a little unnerving, but he couldn't help but smile in return.

"Let's see what Mione has for us today."