The Mirror of Erised Returns
Chapter Two- Advice From a Dreamer
A/N: Well, first I'd like to give a tremendous thank you to everyone that reviewed! You don't know how great that made me feel! Secondly, I think I'm going to try to update this fic about once a week. Probably on the weekends. Well, I hope you guys like this chapter! Not too much going on between h/hr but, remember, patience is the key!
Back in the boys's dormitory, hiding under the covers like a scared little boy, my brain is assaulted by a whirlwind of emotions. Part of me is feeling very confused by what I saw in the mirror. Why, exactly, was I kissing one of my best friends, Hermione Granger? By the way we were kissing, it looked as though it wasn't the first time, and it certainly looked quite a bit more enjoyable than that kiss I shared with Cho Chang last year.
The other part of me is left feeling extremely guilty. The whole reason I went out to find The Mirror was to see Sirius again, and instead, I end up snogging one of my best friends! Does this mean that my desire to kiss Hermione is stronger than my desire to see my godfather one last time? What kind of person does that make me?
I want to talk to someone about what I saw, but who could I possibly talk about this with? The most logical person to tell, of course, would be Hermione, but the fact that this whole situation is about her makes it just a bit difficult. What would I say, exactly?
'Gee, Hermione, when I looked in The Mirror of Erised, instead of seeing Sirius, I saw the two of us snogging. What do you think that could possibly mean?' Yes, I can see that going over real well. I can't talk to Ron, either, because I suspect he still has a bit of a crush on Hermione. I doubt he would be too pleased to hear that, supposedly, one of my deepest desires is to snog Hermione Granger senseless. Even if I wasn't royally vexed at Professor Dumbledore, I couldn't ask him about it. I can just picture telling him what happened, and after I was finished he would just sit in his chair twinkling those blue eyes at me, and muttering some inane comment that wouldn't help me in the slightest. Sighing, I roll over a few times in bed, eventually falling into a fitful sleep.
I wake up early the next morning, my head filled with foggy images of snogging Hermione. I groan at the thought and bury my head under my pillow. How in the name of Godric, am I going to face her today? I just know that I'm going to say or do loads of stupid things, and then she'll ask me what's wrong, and I won't be able to give her an answer. Of course, she'll think that I'm hiding something from her and become worried, and I hate it when she worries.
"Hey, mate, get up! We've got to breakfast! It's the most important meal of the day, you know." Ron says cheerfully.
"Ron, to you, every meal is the most important meal of the day, you great git!" I say while tossing my pillow at him. He just laughs and whips it back at me.
A little while later, I'm sitting in the Great Hall. Hermione isn't at breakfast because she, unsurprisingly, just had to get to the library. I'm not sure if I should feel relieved or disappointed. Probably a little bit of both.
Potions. With the Slytherins. Every year, us Gryffindors hope that someone will take pity on us and pair our potions class up with, say, the Hufflepuffs, or at least a house that we're on civil terms with. But no, every year, without fail, we're paired up with the Slytherins and we get to watch their oh- so- wonderful Head of House's sickening display of favoritism.
Today, we're brewing a forgetfullness drought. Snape just couldn't resist pointing out that perhaps Neville had been exposed to extreme amounts of it when he was a baby, and that's why he's so abominable at potions.
On one hand, I suppose I could consider myself lucky, because I wasn't paired up with Neville. But on the other hand, I consider myself extremely unlucky because that meant the only person left to work with was, Hermione.(Ron ditched me for Seamus, the stupid prat!) As if I didn't have enough trouble concentrating in Potions without the added stress of thinking about snogging my best friend. While Hermione is busy scribbling down the instructions, I walk over to gather the ingredients.
About twenty minutes later, we're brewing the potion. Well, Hermione's brewing the potion, and I'm just handing her the necessary ingredients. I don't feel bad about making her do most of the work, because if I were to help, I'd probably botch up the whole potion, and cause us both to get a poor grade - and we all know how Hermione would feel about that.
I can't help glancing at her when she's not looking. I mean, I realized Hermione was pretty in Fourth Year, during the Yule Ball, but now I just can't stop thinking about it. I guess I'm just noticing it more now, because of what I saw in The Mirror. I wonder if kissing Hermione would be as good as it looked then-probably even better. Her lips do look incredibly soft-
"Harry!" She screeches, causing me to jump. "I've been calling you for the past five minutes! Pass me the armadillo bile, would you?" I shake my head slightly, before handing over the bottle. She adds a few drops to the cauldron, before turning to me.
"Harry, are you feeling alright? You were looking at me kind of funny. Maybe you should take a trip to the Infirmary?" I sigh. I just knew she was going to say that.
"No, Hermione, I'm fine. I just didn't get a good night sleep, is all." Instead of assuring her, this makes her even more worried.
"Are you having nightmares, Harry? About Voldemort?" She asks concernedly, while grabbing my arm. I'm just about to answer when Professor Snape swoops down on us, seemingly out of nowhere.
"As touching as it is to see Ms. Granger's displays of affection for you, Potter, I might suggest that you pay attention to the potion. Ten points from Gryffindor for disrupting the class." I open my mouth to argue, but Hermione tightens her hold on my arm. I glare at Snape, and he turns away to go inspect the cauldrons of the other students.
***
A little while later, I'm sitting alone by the lake, trying to sort out my thoughts. I've gone over everything a million times in my head, and I'm still just as confused as ever. No matter how I try to put it, it just seems like I'm a selfish person. I mean, what normal person would choose to snog his best friend, instead of seeing his godfather one last time? It's just not logical.
"Hello, Harry." A dreamy voice says from behind me. I turn around to see Luna Lovegood staring at me, well sort of. Whenever Luna looks at you, it always seems as if she's staring right through you.
"You seem troubled, Harry. What's wrong?" At first I want to deny it, but then I realize, Luna is probably the one person I could talk to that wouldn't judge me, or get upset.
" Luna, Have you ever heard of The Mirror Of Erised?"
"Yes, I think I read about it in one of the earliers editions of The Quibbler."
"Well, last night, I went to the find it, so I could see Sirius again, and instead I saw myself and Hermione. We were, er, kissing," I can just feel the blush in my cheeks, but Luna doesn't look the slightest bit phased. "Doesn't it make me selfish, or something, that my deepest desire is to be snogging Hermione, and not seeing Sirius again?"
"No, Harry, I think that you're looking at this the wrong way. I don't think you're deepest desire is to snog Hermione, I think it is to be with Hermione." I stare at her in confusion.
"Be with Hermione? I'm with her all the time.." I try to say, but she interrupts me.
"No, Harry. When I say that your greatest desire is to be with Hermione, I mean, that's what you want most in the world, because you love her. You lost someone very close to you, and I know that must hurt, but ultimately, Hermione is what you need to survive. She's, like, a part of your soul." I just stare at her, with my mouth wide open in shock. If I thought she was looney before, this definitely proves it. Me, in love with Hermione? I don't even know what being in love means. I must have said that last part out loud, because then she says:
"Of course you don't, Harry. But, soon, you'll find out." She says vaguely, before walking away, leaving me alone in my thoughts.
When I enter the common room a little while later, Ron and Hermione are having a huge row. They're both standing at the opposite sides of the common room, red-faced, chests heaving, and looking absolutely furious.
"Oh, I see how it is ! I suppose you only date celebrities then? Someone like myself isn't good enough for you, is that it? Maybe you'd like to date Harry."
"Ron, you know it isn't like that! I just don't feel that way towards you! You're one of my best friends, and I love you very much, but only as a friend." She says back. Hmm, she didn't say anything about dating me, though. I wonder if this means she wants to date me. What's more, do I even want her to want to date me? Looking at her pale cheeks, flushed red with anger, and her blazing brown eyes, I decide that yes, I definitely want Hermione Granger to want me. The only question is : How to go about it?
"Well, I'm sorry Hermione, but your friendship isn't good enough for me anymore! I really care about you, but if you don't feel the same for me, then there's no point of us even speaking to eachother!" He yells, before storming out of the common room, leaving me with a very tearful Hermione. She plops down on the sofa, sobbing, and I go and sit next to her. She immediately wraps her arms around me, and I can't help but notice how good she feels in my arms. She smells nice too.
"Can you. Believe. That he would. Say those horrible things, Harry?" She asks me in between sniffles.
"Ron's just being a prat right now, because his feelings are hurt. He'll get over it, eventually." Well, for the sake of our friendship, I hope he will.
***
It's been a few days, and Ron and Hermione are still not talking. They've taken to using me as a sort of go-between if they absolutely must communicate. Take this morning's breakfast for example.
"Harry, tell Hermione to pass the bacon, will you?" He asks, and of course, I have to repeat it before Hermione hands over the plate. It's very immature, and gets old very fast. Hermione still seems to care about Ron's grades, despite the fact that they're in a fight. This is what happened in the Common Room after dinner.
" Harry, tell Ron that he better not forget to work on his Transfiguration essay, it's due on Friday."
You would think that if Hermione was concerned about Ron's homework, she would have at least cooled down enough to talk to him? But, no, it's always 'Harry tell Ron this'. Or, 'Harry, tell Hermione that'. It's so bloody annoying. I just hope for my sake, that they stop fighting soon, or I may just go insane.
I'm gazing in to the fire, while Hermione is working on homework, as usual. As far as things are going with me and Hermione, well, it's strange. How do I let her know I like her, without letting her know that I like her? Erg, that probably didn't make any sense. What I mean, is well, how do I know if she likes me? I wish I could talk to Sirius about this, he would probably have some great advice, but he's gone now- and that's my fault. My stomach clenches painfully at the thought of never seeing him again. Why does everyone have to die because of me? I know, now, that people are going to keep dying until I defeat Voldemort. How the hell am I supposed to do that? Why does it have to be me?
"What are you thinking about Harry, you're awfully quiet." Hermione says, breaking me out of my thoughts. I don't feel like talking about it, really, but I know she's going to bug me about it until I finally tell her.
"Sirius, Voldemort, The Prophecy."
"The Prophecy? What's the use in thinking about that, if you don't even know what it said?" Crap. Hermione doesn't know that Dumbledore told me about the prophecy after Neville smashed the original one.
"Well, after the Department of Mysteries, when I was in Dumbledore's office, he told me what the Prophecy said. Basically, either I have to kill Voldemort, or he'll kill me. 'Neither one can live, while the other survives', or something like that." Hermione lets out a startled gasp, tears coming to her eyes.
"Oh, Harry! Why didn't you tell me about this earlier?" She demands, while pulling me into an embrace. For some reason, the emotional tone in her voice brings tears to my eyes. I try to wipe them away before she notices, but she still does.
"It's alright, Harry, let it all out. Don't be afraid to cry." And so I spend the rest of the night in Hermione's arms, sobbing into her shoulder.
Well, that seemed like a good place to stop for now! So what did you think? *looks around at the audience shyly.*