A/N: Big thank you to the lovely people who left me reviews! I replied to all of them (I just adore portkey; it's so user friendly!) so go check out my responses on the reviews page if you're interested. I am going to try to keep replying to all of them as they come in. This is my first try at Harry/Hermione and I want you all to know just how much all the encouragement is appreciated!
Section 2:
Hermione had crept through those same halls as silently as she could manage not long before. Of course, considering the celebrations that were going on around the castle, it was doubtful anyone would have noticed if a galloping horde of hippogriffs charged through the hallways, but she still forced herself to step softly and stick to the shadows as much as possible. She didn't think anyone had noticed her slipping out of the Gryffindor House party, (after all, if anyone had noticed or cared that she had left, they would have come after her already) but she didn't see the need to take any chances. She had loitered around the portrait hole for a full five minutes before she was satisfied that no one was coming after her. The absolute last thing she wanted was for someone to find her. In order to do what she had been aching to do, it was essential that she be alone, and undisturbed.
Besides, she knew that if anyone saw her, they would drag her to one of the celebration parties and she would rather drink undiluted bubotuber puss than spend another moment pretending to celebrate. She had forced herself to be smiling and happy all day long, and for most of the night as well. The next person who ran up to her and said, "Isn't it wonderful?" was going to get a sock in the jaw. She couldn't bear to pretend to be smiling and happy any longer. She couldn't hold up that joyous façade when her entire world was crashing down around her. But exposing her true emotions to her well-meaning friends wasn't an option, so she needed one final fix of her secret addiction so she could pull herself together. Once she'd spent a few hours in her hidden room, she'd be able to put back on her smiling mask.
Hermione was fully aware that coming back to the room was a sign of a weakness in herself that she despised. She had always prided herself on her strength and the force of her determination, and she hated the dependence that she had formed on that hidden room. But at that moment, she was feeling weak and tired and horribly beaten down and she needed the comfort the room could offer her one last time. Just one last time, and then she'd say goodbye to it forever. Besides, she had earned it, hadn't she? After what she had done just that morning, hadn't she won the right to take a little comfort for herself where she could find it? Saving the wizarding world wasn't something your average school-age witch had to do every day, and there should be some sort of reward or compensation for that, shouldn't there? After all, it had taken her years to track down the spell that she and Ron had used that morning, and then weeks to prepare herself for the actual casting.
Ever since Harry had told her of the contents of the prophecy they had battled over at the end of their fifth year, Hermione had been avidly searching for ways to turn that information to their advantage. Since only Harry could defeat Voldemort, plans that called for several people to attack Voldemort at once or for anyone else to strike the fatal blow had to be discarded. Evidence had piled up on several fronts from a variety of seers and prognosticators that implied that the final confrontation between Voldemort and Harry would be one on one.
Hermione, along with Dumbledore and the rest of the Order of the Phoenix, had been worried that Harry on his own simply wasn't capable of permanently destroying a force as potently and powerfully evil as Voldemort. It wasn't that Harry wasn't strong; it was more that Harry wasn't ruthless. Voldemort would not hesitate to use any manner of dark spells and enchantments at his disposal to win the final battle. He had no scruples about playing dirty. Harry's magic, as powerful as it was, wasn't anywhere near as versatile as Voldemort's.
Ron had actually made a joke about it, saying that all they needed to do was divide Harry neatly into thirds. If Harry could split himself up into three parts, then he could have one part block all curses that Voldemort would send out, and another part concentrate on removing the shields Voldemort had erected around himself to make himself invulnerable, while the third part would be able to actually cast the killing curse, and finish off Voldemort for good.
Unfortunately, this wasn't possible. At least, it wasn't possible through traditional means. So Hermione started digging around in the nontraditional spells. It had been shortly after Christmas when she found it. The spell itself was exceptionally old, and came from the earth-based, wandless, untrained brand of magic that had been prevalent in the Middle Ages. Schools for witchcraft had been few and far between in those days, and witches and wizards who had lacked the resources or opportunities for formal training in magic had been forced to find their own ways to use the power that pumped through their veins. The spell that Hermione found allowed several casters to pool their spirit into one vessel that would go out to do battle. In short, if Hermione was willing to place her soul in Harry's hands, he could literally take her spirit into battle with him. And since she would become a part of him for as long as the spell lasted, her consciousness would be able to take part in the battle itself. And that was precisely what she had done.
When she revealed the spell to the Order of the Phoenix, the members had debated for weeks over who would be used to combine themselves with Harry. The first instinct of the older members was to combine Harry with their most powerful casters. Melding Dumbledore with Harry would give the boy the benefit of all of the Headmaster's strength and experience. Combining Snape with Harry would give Harry access to a darker side of magic, and the ability to cast dark spells without endangering his conscience.
But in final analysis, Hermione and Ron were the only possible choices. In order for the spell to be effective, all the people involved had to have complete trust for each other. If any of the casters held back any part of themselves from the merging, it would cause the whole process to self-destruct. There were even instances were it had caused the death of the casters. Such a spell was not to be taken lightly, and such a trust could not be forced. Even if they had had years to work on it instead of the limited timeframe they were allowed, Harry and Snape would not have been able to work past their distrust for one another. And Harry's confidence in Dumbledore had been severely damaged at the end of fifth year, when Harry realized just how much Dumbledore had kept from him.
The only two people on earth that Harry trusted completely, without reservation and with his life, were Hermione and Ron. And it had worked. With the power and ability of three people inside him, Harry was able to break his way through everything that Voldemort tried to use against him, and the Dark Lord that had been the terror of every decent wizard for the past quarter of a century was defeated at last.
Despite the fact that it was Hermione's spell that had made Harry's victory possible, Hermione knew that Harry would receive all the accolades for the final defeat. It wasn't Harry's fault. Given his preferences, Harry would have chosen anonymity any day over the unrelenting fame he had always had. But it *wasn't* his choice. The wizarding world liked to have a hero, and Harry had fit that role ever since he was a baby. It wasn't surprising that the newspapers were very eager to give him undivided credit for the defeat of the Dark Lord.
Hermione didn't begrudge him the spotlight treatment he would receive. She didn't want medals or prizes or her name and picture splashed across the papers. All she asked for herself was that she be allowed this one indulgence, one last time. She had played a role in the defeat of Voldemort; surely she deserved some kind of reward for that. And the only reward that she wanted was to be able to spend just a few more hours in that forgotten room at the end of the corridor. Realistically, what would be the harm in her going there, just this one last time?
Finally, she reached her destination. A quick scan of the hallway confirmed that no one was there to see her. She raised her wand and a muttered spell made the doorway appear in front of her. Hermione slipped inside and eagerly shut the door behind her. Moments later, the doorway disappeared leaving behind an innocent looking stretch of perfectly empty wall. Hermione had charmed the door to invisibility months before. This particular part of the castle had been unused for years and there was little likelihood that anyone would be wandering around there in the first place, but Hermione was always the type to take precaution after precaution, just to be safe. When she was in this room, the last thing she wanted was to be disturbed.
Once the door was closed, Hermione immediately rushed to the shadowy corner that held her prize. Every time she came back, she always worried that it would be gone, that Dumbledore would have taken it away. Sometimes, she wished that he would. She knew that her addiction to it wasn't healthy. But she knew she could never give it up on her own. Not yet. Unconsciously she held her breath, and then released it in a sigh of relief as she saw that it was still there. The famous Mirror of Erised.
She had been startled and intrigued when she had come across it for the first time, nearly a year before. Harry and Ron had told her about it, of course. It had been an essential part of Harry's adventure with the sorcerer's stone during their first year. But she had never seen it, herself. She recognized it instantly, less from Harry and Ron's descriptions (they had both been far too intrigued by what the mirror showed them to pay much attention to mundane details like the mirror's size, shape, decoration, etc.) than from the reading she had done on it. The myths and legends surrounding it were astounding.
The sheer quantity of people who had wasted away in front of it, unable to leave behind that vision of the thing they wanted most, was high enough for the mirror to qualify as an object of dark destruction. It was saved from that label by a technicality. The compulsion the mirror created to stay, and watch, and never walk away, *could* be overcome. There was no physical force that held a person in place in front of the mirror. All a person had to do was make the choice to walk away. As was so often the case, the defining factor lay not in the magic that the mirror held, but in the ability of all the people who encountered it to make the choice for themselves. Someone with a truly strong will could look into the mirror, see what it held, and leave it without a backward glance. The people who perished in front of the mirror were not forced to stay there; instead, they *chose* to remain, preferring the world they imagined to the actual world they lived in. The mirror was not directly responsible for that fact that some people were unable to let go of their dreams.
Hermione had known all of this history years before she ever laid eyes on the famous mirror. She had approached it knowing the danger that it represented. As she stepped closer, she had known that she shouldn't, she had known that it was wrong, and she had known that it was dangerous, but she had not hesitated to seat herself in front of the mirror and stare into its depths.
She had gasped at the image that she saw the first time. Of course, on some level, she had expected it. She knew that the mirror reflected not the viewer's face, but their deepest, innermost desire. Hermione had always known that her deepest, innermost desire was to love completely and be loved completely in return. Accustomed to relying on her brain to lead her safely through any situation, Hermione had come to be afraid of any situation that required her to depend upon something as unreliable as her heart. Loving freely was difficult for her, which led her to fear that she would never be able to love someone enough to earn their love in return. Although she was fully aware of this fear of hers, she was, nonetheless, unable to do anything to stop it.
So she wasn't surprised when she saw herself reflected in the glass, wrapped in the arms of a boy who was looking at her with love and adoration clearly written on his face. She wasn't surprised to see her own blissful expression, or the deep, abiding love in her eyes as she leaned back against her beloved. She knew that the image of love that she saw was what she wanted more than anything in the world. And she knew that she wanted it because she was afraid it was the one thing she would never be able to have.
The identity of the boy holding her had, at first, come as a bit of a surprise. Her feelings for him had been repressed for so long, she had actually managed to convince herself that they didn't exist. It was a lie, of course. Her love had only grown stronger through the years that she tried to deny it. When she looked into the mirror, she was unable to pretend any longer. Her love was real and lasting and it would not go away, no matter how much she wanted it to.
The mirror had given her two surprising revelations: the first was that she was capable of loving someone wholly and completely with nothing held back. In truth, she already did. The second revelation was more painful: her fear of not being loved in return had become a reality. It was not a possibility that the image she saw in the mirror would ever happen in real life. As much as she might adore him, Hermione knew that she had no chance of ever winning the love of Harry Potter.