Unofficial Portkey Archive

So In Love

By: SweetSolitude137

Spoilers: Books 1-4

Summary: Hermione's late for class (yes, you read right, Hermione's late for class) one gray, rainy day when she runs into something unexpected that changes her forever. One-shot sweet, little ficlet.

Disclaimer: The characters and situations are all owned by J.K. Rowling, the genius that she is. (I'm not very good at these disclaimer things, so please, bare with me.)

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Hermione Granger was late.

Yes, you heard right; Hermione Granger, top student at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry in over a century, was late for her Potions class. She knew she'd be in for it the moment she stepped through that dungeon door into the darkened, damp classroom of one Professor Snape, but, Hermione figured, better show up late than not show up at all.

So, it was with hasty steps and panting breath that she rushed through Hogwarts castle, just imagining how many house points that would be taken away for her tardiness.

She passed classrooms upon classrooms all filled with thoughtful students (and some not so thoughtful students) taking tests, copying notes from the magical blackboards, or maybe just staring absently out the window at the gray, rainy weather that the day's dawn had brought.

Only two more floors down, Hermione thought as she wrapped her robe a little tighter around her, feeling the cold the dungeons always held.

Five more classrooms, Hermione thought, speeding up her pace. Four, I'm almost there. Three.... two....

"I'm sorry Professor Snape, but I..." Hermione's gasping voice echoed throughout the nearly empty classroom.

What Hermione saw certainly did surprise her. The whole walk here she was expecting to see a room full of her fellow students all brewing some type of potion that Snape had ordered them to make that day. She had pictured Professor Snape lurking around the room, waiting for any one of his students to slip in their potion making (preferably Neville), or to be handing out a pop quiz while every student groaned unhappily.

She just hadn't expected this.

Hermione hadn't expected to see an empty, darker-than-normal classroom, stone walls bare, no desks, no blackboard, just a mirror. A tall, golden, elegant mirror, situating in the center of the room.

Hermione knew she should leave, she knew that the later she walked into the Potions classroom, the worse it would be for her, but this mirror, something about it gave her a sense of familiarity, she was drawn to it.

As she stepped closer to the opulent mirror she could see letters, no words, carved around the sides, yet these words could not be distinguished.

"Strange..." she whispered to herself.

Hermione was now standing directly in front of the mirror, but her image was blurred. She reached out her hand to wipe away the dust she assumed was covering the mirror, but her fingers came back as clean as they had been before she touched it.

It was obviously no ordinary mirror, Hermione concluded. She new she had read about this mirror before... but what was the name? Hermione sighed, frustrated, wracking her brain for any memory of the mirror at all.

It starts with an 'E', I know that, Hermione thought. The mirror of Eros? No, no, that's mythology. Eros? What was I thinking? The mirror of, of Erisa... Erised? The mirror of Erised! Yes, that's it!

"So," Hermione whispered in awe, "this is the mirror of Erised."

Suddenly, her image was no longer blurred, but reflecting clearer than any regular mirror could possibly do. But she was not alone in the reflection.

Standing to her right was a young man, a young man with piercingly green eyes, eyes that shone with a mirth that no words could describe, surrounded by black frames. A young man with a brilliant smile upon his face that only added to his mischievous look. And he had a scar, a famous scar that rested on his forehead in the shape of a lightening bolt.

"Harry?" Hermione's confused voice echoed throughout the room as she turned around looking for her green eyed friend. But the room was empty.

It couldn't be.

Hermione knew what this mirror's purpose was, and what it showed, but it couldn't be right. How could her deepest desire be... be Harry? Harry, one of her best friends, is her deepest desire? But wait, Hermione reasoned, maybe her deepest desire was just for Harry to be happy, and he looked pretty happy here. And she was only in the reflection because she was standing right in front of the mirror. Perfect explanation, Hermione thought, believing she was correct.

But, the reflections in the mirror started to move. The spitting image of Harry positioned himself behind Hermione, resting his chin on her shoulder, still smiling, and wrapped his arms around her waist. The mirror-Hermione, in turn, shifted her head so she was looking right at him, and kissed his cheek, eyes shining brightly.

Hermione's mouth dropped. And when I say dropped, I mean dropped so low that her jaw was probably broken 10 times over.

It didn't make any sense. Her deepest desire wasn't to be like... like that with Harry! Hermione and Harry's relationship was strictly platonic, nothing more. She didn't even feel that way toward him, he was just her friend!

"This mirror is wrong," Hermione tried to convince herself, "it doesn't show my deepest desire."

"Then, Miss Granger," a deep voice echoed through the room, "what is your deepest desire?"

"Professor Dumbledore, you... you startled me," Hermione said, trying to catch her breath.

"I did not intend to frighten you Miss Granger, just simply ask you a question," Dumbledore spoke, with a calmness in his voice that would never cease to comfort Hermione.

"As to your question sir I..." Hermione stopped. What was her deepest desire? To graduate Hogwarts with flying colors? Yes, that was up there on her list, but certainly not her deepest desire. Hermione continued thinking of things she wished to happen, but everything she came up with was turned down; she honestly had no idea what her deepest desire was.

She looked up at Dumbledore, who she noticed was twinkling merrily, as usual.

"I've never thought about it before. But I know one thing for sure, the image I saw in the mirror wasn't it."

"How can you be so sure, if you've never given the time to think about it?"

Hermione turned back to the mirror, now seeing the image of herself and Harry doing some sort of odd dance that reminded her somewhat of Fred and George; she shivered at the thought of herself acting like either one of the Weasley twins.

She really did look happy in the mirrior though, happier than she could remember herself ever being. Likewise for Harry. Hermione also couldn't help noticing how perfect they looked together. How Harry was just tall enough to rest his chin atop her head, but that was silly. Just because they were the perfect height for each other didn't mean a thing. All that mattered was how she felt about Harry, which was nothing more than friendly.

Right?

Hermione gazed at the image of Harry, and felt something inside her start to surface as she realized that his personality was portrayed in each one of his physical features.

His scar showed power that was unmatchable, and a bravery that was hard to come by. His smile showed that when he was happy, he cherished it, and loved every bit that was given to him. It showed that he was grateful for the things that were given to him. But nothing compared to his eyes. In his eyes was a mischievous glint (inherited by his father no less) that showed how he was always plotting one thing or another. His eyes showed wisdom and age that came with all that he had dealt with in his short sixteen years. There was a pain, a pain that came with seeing too much, and an agony, an agony that came with experiencing too much pain.

And Hermione loved him all too much for it. For all that he'd been through for her, for the entire wizarding world even.

To say that she had just experienced the largest epiphany in her life would be a drastic understatement. What she had just realized would change her life forever. For the good or for the bad she did not know, all she knew was that she loved Harry Potter.

Not the Harry Potter that the public thought they knew, but the Harry Potter she knew, the Harry Potter she saw by just looking at his face, and gazing into the depths of his eyes.

"Professor Dumbledore, I was wrong, this mirror really does show the truth, it does show my deepest desire," Hermione said, but Dumbledore had long left her. That man will never stop amazing me, Hermione thought, a smile ligering upon her lips.

Hermione then threw her backpack over her shoulder, which somewhere through this whole experience she had let fall to the floor. She was about to walk away, but decided to take one last look at the Mirror of Erised, for she was sure it wouldn't be here tomorrow, or ever again for that matter.

Harry and herself were still there, still smiling, and still holding each other tightly. And then... and then she swore the image of Harry winked at her, but she couldn't be completely sure.

"I guess I'll just have to wait and see."

With those last words, Hermione left the Mirror of Erised, knowing her deepest desire, and knowing that maybe, just maybe, one day she wouldn't need a charmed mirror to see Harry and herself so close and so in love.

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A/N: This was just a short little piece I typed up in about an hour. (The result of a wave of inspiration and listening to too much John Mayer, I really do love his music) I hope you enjoyed it! A review or any type of comment at all are always appreciated! Thanks.