[I don't own any of those characters, or anything, it all belongs to JK Rowling. Enjoy!]

She smiled at him, she really beamed up at him as his hand rested on her hips. He looked deep into her brown eyes, so different from his own steely grey ones which people found emotionless but in that moment he could actually feel the emotions pour out of them. She made him smile, she always did and this time was no different.


It had been quite some time since the twenty-three year old wizard had stumbled across the Mirror of Erised while working at the Ministry. He had known that it had been the wrong thing to do, but he had brought it home with him, he had said to himself that he would bring it straight back to the Ministry the next day; he just wanted to take a glance at the mirror, the curiosity of seeing his hearts deepest desire had gotten the best of him.

He hadn't stolen a glance at it before he had gotten home and placed it in the drawing room of his Manor. He had been nervous, and he hadn't known what to expect, but what he had seen had been something he would have never guessed. It had shocked him, confused him and then it had become all he could think about. 

Every day before he went to work, he would look in the mirror but he would also do it when he came home from work and then he would also seat himself in front of it before he went to sleep. He would look at what he desired most and feel the pain in knowing that he would never have it – have her. 

The blonde wizard reached out to touch the glass as an attempt of touching her face, knowing that it was useless. She smiled at him inside the mirror, making him sigh sadly as he felt the pain he had expected, it cut like a knife through his heart and he was bleeding all over, or so it felt.


The same thing happened every time he saw her inside the walls of the Ministry, where she worked, he bled all over just by the sight of her, but no one ever saw, they never noticed anything. Perhaps he was a good liar, perhaps he was good at faking it. Perhaps - no one cared. 
He could never tell anyone about how much he wanted her, least of all her. All he could ever have of her was the image of her and him in the mirror that he sat in front of. It was unbearable to watch, yet he couldn't look away.


He leaned down and kissed her soft lips, his heart pumped hard inside his chest as he let his long, pale fingers tangled themselves into the bushy hair of hers. He bit down softly on her lower lip, causing a small, delicate moan escape her lips; something that made him smile – not smirk, smile.


Deciding that it was time to go to bed, he stood and covered up the mirror, but not before he stroked her face in the mirror one more time. 

As he made his way up to his room, he made a decision; he was going to hand the mirror over to the ministry, he simply couldn't keep it at home any longer, he would go insane, he would lose all sense of reality!

He walked the steps of the stair leading him up to his room and he groaned, if he was to turn the mirror over, then he would have to talk to her, since she was currently working on rounding up all magical items which could be dangerous if it were in the hands of the wrong people, in his opinion the Mirror of Erised was just that. Dangerous. 

He had gotten so enchanted with what he had seen in it that he had trouble sleeping, he barely ate, and if he did then he made sure that he could still see the mirror from where he sat. He had, plain and simple, become obsessed with it, and he didn't like it. Not for one bit. 

 His father would have been incredibly disappointed if he saw what his son had become; a thin, pale, obsessed, pathetic excuse of a wizard. 

 ‘Oh, right,’ he thought sadly and with a hint of sarcasm, ‘that's that I think about myself.’


With a sigh he opened the door to his room, which looked the same as it had for the last seven years – dominated by a large bed, black covers, dark green curtains which framed the ridiculously high windows which gave light to the room. The walls were painted in a boring white tone, the floor was a dark wooden colour and the drawers were in the matching colour. It was rather boring, but he didn't mind. Yes, he had thought about redecorating but he hated change all too much to do so.


The Manor he lived in felt all too big for just him alone, he had been living by himself ever since his parents had moved away from England to avoid the unwanted attention that came after the war, as soon as they had been cleared of all charges by the Wizengamot, they had taken off for France, they had left everything behind; not only their belongings but also their son. They had never even asked him if he wanted to join them. 

If I had, then I wouldn't have found the damned mirror in the first place,’ the blonde thought as he pulled his t-shirt off and then his trousers fell to the floor. 

The bed made a squeak as he threw himself down on it, but he paid it little mind, it had made the same sound for the last five years, so it was nothing new. 
He didn't want to buy a new one, though, he really liked his bed, it was perfect. Not too soft, and yet not too hard – just perfect. Also, he slept like a baby in it, or at least he had done so up until six months ago. 

At nights he would lie awake and try to fight falling asleep, knowing that the moment he did; he would dream. Of them, of her, and of the freaking mirror. The dreams were always similar and he knew what was going to happen before it did. 

He hated dreaming, because it reminded him in such a painful way of all the things he wanted, and that was why he never wanted to dream. Because of the pain he knew would come when he woke up and realized that it was all just a dream. 
Staring up at the ceiling only worked for so long, and in a matter of minutes sleep took him over, and the images haunted him, her face haunted him...


She spoke to him, she told him exactly what was on her mind and he would always listen, he would hang onto every word she said as if his life depended on it. That was how important he thought it was to hear what she had to say, but also ; he knew that she appreciated it when he listened. 

 She told him that she forgave him for everything he had done. She said that she didn't care what her friends thought about them. 

 “I want to be with you,” she said in a whisper just next to his ear with a voice so familiar. She leaned back to look up into his eyes and golden brown met silver grey. 

 ‘Since when are her eyes golden?’ He thought for a brief second before he really took in the sight of her in front of him, she had a yellow flower behind her ear, and stunning white pearls around her neck. She wore close to no make up but she still looked the best she ever had. 

Then be with me,” he almost pleaded, but just almost. Between his index finger and thumb he captured her chin and tilted her head up as she had lowered it as he had spoken, there was something wrong with her skin, it was too hard, too... inhuman. He ignored it, though, too glad to finally have her in his arms to care about how her skin felt under his touch. Instead the blonde wizard leaned down to capture the lips of the witch, but as he did – he wasn't met by her soft lips like he had expected. Breaking the kiss abruptly, he glared at her. 

 “You're not her,” he said, his voice sad rather than angry. She simply smiled at him. 

 “Of course I'm her, don't you see?” 

 And he did; he saw the frame around her, she was inside the mirror. He turned around and started to walk away while mumbling to himself 'don't look back, don't look back, don't look back...' 

 "Come back! Wait! Turn around...” but instead of doing so, he ran away – her screams for him to come back to her grew louder the faster he ran.


 He sat up in bed, panting and hot. ‘A dream,’ he thought, ‘another dream of her.’ He snorted as he threw the covers off him, and moved to sit on the side of the bed, he covered his face in his hands and took long deep breaths. 

Silently he laughed to himself, what had he become? His whole life was revolving around her, her and the images of them together that he couldn't forget – even though they weren't real. 

 He shook his head and glanced at the clock, she should be getting to her office in half an hour, that would give him enough time to take a shower to wake up and possibly even give him time to look in the mi- ‘No!’ He screamed at himself, ‘don't look in the mirror, don't look in the mirror...’


With the mirror covered up and levitating above his head, he made his way towards her office and he cursed the lump in his throat which wouldn't go away. 

 He couldn't remember the last time they had spoken to each other, and he was just going to storm in there- unannounced. No doubt she would be suspicious, though she would be either way because it was him, he sighed inwardly. He tried hard to recall the last thing he had said to her, or her to him for that matter but he couldn't. He figured that they had only greeted each other coldly when passing, or perhaps at a business meeting. 

He honestly couldn't remember, but he doubted that they had acted the slightest bit friendly towards the other. They never had. But apparently it was his hearts deepest desire for them to be way more than friendly towards one another. 

 People stared at the wizard as he pushed his way through, not understanding the hurry or the slightly terrified look he had on his face, they would never understand not even if explained to. 

He walked to the right and wouldn't stop until he reached the dark wooden door to her office, there was a black nameplate on the door and her name was written in gold, he stared at the letters for quite some time before he gave a hard knock; almost as if he was angry with her – and he was, he had every right to be.
 It was her fault that he felt the way he did, it was her fault that he ached for her touch, it was her fault that he wanted to hold her in his arms so badly. But even as he thought it, he knew it wasn't true; none of it was her fault really, but he was still angry with her – ‘for existing, if that's a good enough reason,’ he thought to himself. 
He knew it wasn't and he also knew that he was only angry with her because he refused to be angry at himself.

The door opened and there she stood, her hair not as bushy at he was used to seeing it, she wore a lemon self-stripe shirt, and the colour made her brown eyes seem even more brown. Around her neck hung a soft, white pearl necklace, just like the one he had seen in his dream. 

“Malfoy,” she sounded shocked to see him there, but his name came out like a statement, not a question to why he was there, so he replied by greeting her. 

 “Granger,” he gave a stiff nod to which she opened the door so that he could step inside, and then she glanced up suspiciously at the object levitating above him. 

 “W-what are you doing here?” 

 “Surprised to see me, are you?” he smirked at her stuttering, something so unlike her, before lowering the mirror down to the floor, so that it stood supported against her wall. 

 Hermione Granger's office wasn't very big, Draco noticed as he looked around. It was even smaller than his own, but he didn't feel the need to point that out. 

“Yes, rather surprised,” mumbled Hermione as she walked to stand beside him in front of the still covered up mirror.


“I came to hand this over to the Ministry, and from what I understand, you're in charge of that stuff...” with a flick of Draco's wand, the mirror was revealed and he couldn't stop himself from looking into it. He saw the reflection of him and Hermione, though in the mirror they were smiling and they stood closer together, her arm around his body and her head tilted up to look at him, the him in the mirror leaned down to kiss the her in the mirror, and that's when Draco looked away to see that the girl next to him was staring at the mirror with her eyes wide open and a light flush on her cheeks. He couldn't help but to wonder what she was seeing.


“Where did you find it?” she asked in a small voice, as if what she was seeing had punched the air out of her. 

 “Doesn't matter,” he said quickly and hoped that she wouldn't ask more of those kind of questions. 

“Fine, then. When did you find it?” Her voice was more fierce, but she had yet to turn her face and look at him. 

 “Six months and four days ago,” he sighed sadly, trying hard to fight the urge of looking into the blasted mirror. Though what he had said had made her look at him. 

 “Six months...?” she echoed and raised her eyebrows, “Where have you kept it? Why haven't you handed it over to the Ministry? You should have done so when you first found it, Malfoy!” 

She seemed quite upset that he had kept it to himself, and he gave another sigh.

“I couldn't get enough of what I saw,” Draco told her honestly, there was no reason to lie about that. Though the answer seemed to surprise her because she closed her mouth and it took a long while before she spoke again.


“What do you see?” the question was soft, curious and almost... sweet. Hermione's eyes were focused on the mirror and against his will he found himself following her glance. The two people inside the mirror were kissing and laughing together, and Draco was hit with a pain to intense that he could almost feel his heart breaking; she was so close but yet so far away. 

 The image was a constant reminder of what he couldn't have, and even though they were in the same room – he couldn't touch her. He couldn't even bring himself to say something nice to her.


For a second he considered telling her the truth - I see you and me, Hermione – if not because it was true, then because he was curious to see how she would react and the truth to be told, he had always wanted to see Hermione Granger look like a goldfish out of water, he bet she would do a great impression as one. He would have told her what he saw if he hadn't been such a bloody coward.


There was a pause before he spoke,  “Why, Granger, do you honestly think that I would tell my hearts deepest desire to a Mudblood?” he forced a smirk on his lips, it hurt him more than she could have imagined to call her by that word, Merlin knows he didn't mean it. 
He chuckled at himself because he was so pathetic that he found himself amusing, though, upon seeing her hurt expression and the tears in her eyes; he stopped. 

 He wished that he could tell her that he was sorry, that he didn't mean any of it, that he never did. But it was too late, and to what use would it be? She would never care to give him a second chance anyway, she wouldn't even accept his apology, no matter how sincere it was. 

Suddenly the room felt too small for the both of them, Draco felt as if he was suffocating and he glanced one last time in the mirror before muttering, “Destroy that damn thing.” 

 He slammed the door behind him as he walked out of her office, desperately trying to figure out what he was going to do now, he wasn't sure if he could continue working as closely to her and have that as a constant reminder, no... He needed to get away, far away. 

France, then,’ he thought to himself, ‘I'll go to my parents in France for a while, maybe that'll clear my head up.’ 
That was his plan, he was going to quit his job and move to France. He clenched his jaw and walked faster, as he left the dream of Hermione Granger behind. 

What Draco didn't know, however, was that back in her office, Hermione stood in front of the mirror and stared into it. She, unlike him, had known what to expect when she looked into it for the first time, but that didn't make it any easier. The screaming silence that had followed after he had slammed the door shut was deafening, making her feel lonely and cold, which made the image in front of her seem all the more distant. 

One tear rolled down her cheek as she watched him and her together.

[This was written for the The Mirror of Erised Challenge  by WitnesstoitAll -  I enjoyed writing this one-shot a lot! :) I hope you liked it, and please; Do leave a review? I'd love to know what you all thought.  Thanks, Cathy-]

Track This Story:    Feed


Get access to every new feature the moment it comes out.

Register Today!