The Mirror of Erised

Hermione Granger, Aged 16

The classroom was abandoned, save for a girl sitting in a corner, writing with a look of concentration on her face. She had been sitting on the same slab of cold stone for the past two hours, dutifully writing out an essay for Potions class. Her quill hadn't stopped moving once in that long time period except for those brief moments when she dipped it in ink or when she set a new sheet of parchment aside.

Dusk was falling, and the last rays of the sun shone pink over the room's high window. Everything was quiet except for the scratching of her quill against parchment.

Outside, she someone giggled, a loud, obnoxious noise that echoed throughout the stone corridor into the room. Hermione Granger sighed in annoyance and tucked a piece of stray brown hair behind her ear. She had exceeded the minimum required length for the essay by two rolls of parchment, so all she needed to do now was finish up her conclusion. If only she could focus, she would be done.

The giggles seemed to be getting louder and Hermione covered her ears, straining herself.

Think, Hermione, think, she thought. What else can you say about laceweed in restorative draughts?

If only the girl outside would be quiet. Hermione knew the answer was at the tip of her mind. All she needed was some peace and quiet so she could focus.

After waiting with bated breath for a few seconds, she relaxed. The giggling seemed to have stopped.

No sooner had she sat back down and began writing again did the giggles start back up, sounding like someone was right outside the door. Hermione cast aside her papers angrily, deciding to walk to the door and give whoever it was a piece of her mind.

Before she could stride across the room, however, the door was opened from the other side. Two people tumbled in, crawling on top of each other in a way that made Hermione sick.

She coughed loudly, and the couple popped apart. Lavender Brown giggled at Hermione, who glared back. "Excuse me, but I was just trying to finish my homework in here," Hermione said icily.

Lavender giggled again, and Hermione closed her eyes, as if the sound of the giggles actually caused her physical pain.

"Sorry," Lavender chirped, "Won-Won and I just wanted a room." She stroked Ron Weasley's cheek tenderly, and he turned a flaming red the color of his hair.

"'M sorry 'Mione," Ron mumbled, refusing to meet Hermione's cold glare.

"Don't be," Hermione snapped. She fought back the lump in her throat as she snatched up her papers. One of them ripped and she groaned in exasperation. "Reparo!" she said, jabbing at the torn page of her essay. Immediately, the page repaired itself.

"Now if you two lovebirds don't mind," she said loftily," "I'm off to do my homework somewhere else." Her voice shook a little as she said this; and although she tried to sound angry, she couldn't help it when her voice cracked at the end of the sentence.

Then, without sparing them another look, Hermione marched off to the open door, leaving Ron open-mouthed.

"Wait- Hermione," he called.

She stopped in her tracks, but didn't turn around.

"Sorry," he said meekly. Hermione huffed.

"Oh, just let her go," Lavender whined, tugging Ron's arm. "She's not worth it."

Hermione flared up with anger. She had half a mind to turn around and hex Lavender. She had always thought Lavender was okay, albeit a bit brainless. She could understand Lavender's obsession with Divination and even her disbelief of Harry's story in their fifth year, but this was the last straw. How dare Lavender Brown say that she, Hermione Granger, was not worth it?