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Through the Looking Glass	By : christineyoung Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female Views: 2299 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own anything Harry Potter. I only own the plot. I make no money from this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Through the Looking Glass
- 1
Disclaimer: You know the drill, lovelies. I own nothing that you recognize. I only own the plot of this story. I make no money from the publishing of this story. The only form of my payment that I receive is knowing that someone out there is enjoying the tales that I weave.

A/N: So, I know that this isn't the next chapter to What A Malfoy Wants. I am working on it. Promise. I sat down to write and this is what flowed out. Sometimes you just can't fight the muse. She is a stubborn creature and is used to getting her way. With that said, I hope you enjoy this little short as I really enjoyed writing it.

Through the Looking Glass

Scorpius Malfoy had been fascinated by the mirror in his Father's study for as long as he could remember. Some of his very first memories had included trying to thwart his Father and gaze into its murky depths. It seemed to call to him, drawing him closer and closer, beckoning him to take a look into its swirling mist. It was no ordinary mirror. It was the Mirror of Erised.

He knew what the mirror was supposed to do. And he could understand why his Father didn't want him to look into it. But that didn't alleviate his curiosity. When he'd finally managed to take a glimpse in the mirror, he didn't see what he was supposed to see.

The sight that met his eyes confused him further. His five-year-old mind didn't understand. He saw a girl, a young woman with wild and curly toffee colored hair. Her face was gaunt and smudged with dirt and tears. But it was her eyes that scared him the most. The were large and empty, haunted by unknown horrors. He had fled the study in a panic, his heart beating rapidly in his small chest. Even though he was scared, he was curious. He wanted to know who she was.

He returned the following week. "Who are you?" he demanded of the girl in the mirror.

She didn't answer. She pointed at her throat and watched him sadly as he paced in front of the antique frame of her prison. It was a mystery then. One that he was determined to figure out.

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A year went by and then two. He'd kept this a secret from his Father. He visited his friend twice a week during this period of time. She was his first friend. He confided everything to her. He wished that she could speak back. He longed to know more about the girl and why she was so sad. Was she dead? Is that what caused her to cry? He didn't like it. So one night, he finally plucked up the courage to ask his Father about her. He waited until they were into the third course of dinner and then he struck.

"Who is that woman, Father? Why is she so sad?" he asked suddenly.

His Father looked at him, his eyes and face carefully blank. "Which woman?" he asked.

Scorpius was undeterred. "The woman in the mirror? Who is she?"

"You've seen her?" his father asked slowly.

"Of course," he scoffed. "It's not like she's hiding. Why is she there? Is she a ghost?"

"Listen carefully, Scorpius," his father stated sternly. "She was put there by a very evil man. You should forget about her. She can't be helped."

"How do you know?" he questioned innocently. There had to be something that they could do.

"We've tried," he replied sadly. "We've tried for years, long before you were even born. No one has ever even seen her. This man that put her there hid her very carefully. I wasn't even sure until just now that she was actually there. And the knowledge that we need to free her died with the monster who placed her inside the mirror. I can't even move the blasted thing due to the sticking charm that the madman placed on the mirror, much less free her from her prison."

"What is her name?" Scorpius asked.

"Hermione," his father replied quietly. "Hermione Granger."

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Scorpius became obsessed despite his Father's warnings. It distressed him to think that she was trapped inside that mirror forever. That she would never grow old, that she would never get out. He spent hours in the family library combing the books for anything that could help.

He kept up his visits as well. He liked to think that it made her happy to see him. He was always happy to see her. He told her anything and everything, his frustration at coming to so many dead ends in the library, his joy from riding on his first real broomstick, and his sadness that he would be leaving for Hogwarts in a little over a month.

He'd received his letter but it was bittersweet. He was excited to starting school but he was sad that he wouldn't be able to see her. He would have to wait until the Christmas holidays before her would see her again.

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Scorpius could hardly contain himself when he exited the train for the holidays. He couldn't wait to see her. He had so much to tell her. It came as a small shock when he realized how much she'd come to mean to him.

He was only twelve but he could recognize the crush for what it was. He held more than just friendly feelings toward the mournful witch. He longed to make her smile. He'd missed her terribly over the months.

After spending time with both his Mother and his Father, he'd raced to the study. His Father no longer tried to stop him from seeing her. He just let him be. It wasn't as if she could harm him. He smiled as he saw her face brighten when he came to a skidding halt in front of the mirror.

He'd launched into a long monologue about his adventures at school. His sorting (Slytherin, of course), his classes, meals, the library, and everything in between. He said that he'd seen her name in the trophy case on a plaque that indicated that she'd held the highest scores that the school had ever seen. Then he told her that he was going to break her record. She'd outright smiled at this. Then he told her that he'd enlisted the Headmaster's help in searching for a way to free her, that she was helping him in the restricted section with the darker texts.

He visited her everyday during break, realizing that too soon her would have to leave her once again. He was very attached to the young witch. It made him sad to think of her being all alone in that place, wherever it was. He redoubled his search efforts once he'd returned to school. He would get her out of the mirror, even if it was the last thing that he did.

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Years went by in this manner. He'd never given up, never stopped searching for the answer, but he was losing hope. And it didn't help when he realized that he was in love with her. He wasn't sure when it happened, when his obsession with freeing her and his one-sided friendship had morphed into what it was now. But he couldn't deny how he felt.

He stood before her, just before midnight on the eve of his seventeenth birthday. After the witching hour, he'd be considered an adult in the eyes of the wizarding world. He'd be able to practice magic freely.

He was filled with sadness as he gazed longingly into the mirror. This was exactly what his Father had warned him about all those years ago. Maybe when he saw Hermione in the Mirror that was exactly what he should have seen fore the mirror shows you exactly what you want but can never have. She was what he wanted most and he would never have more that just her reflection staring sadly back at him.

His heart was shattered as he confessed everything to her. He laid his soul bare for her. He longed to hear her voice, to feel her touch, to kiss her lips. He felt extremely vulnerable as he told her these things but he couldn't keep it bottled up any longer.

He stepped closer to the mirror, the cold wall that separated him from her and put his hand up against frosted glass. "I don't know much about you," he murmured softly as his head came to rest against the smooth pane. "Only what I've read and been told. But that's not the real you. I wish that I could have known you. My Father says that he was cruel to you as a child and treated you rather badly."

He pressed his palm flat against the glass as his eyes filled with tears. It wasn't fair. "Even though I don't know you as you know me," he choked out. "I still love you. There, I said it. I told my Father, you know. He thinks I'm a fool. But I don't care. It doesn't change how I feel."

He closed his eyes in despair and wept silently. There was only one thing that he could do for her but he had never found the answer. He'd briefly even considered breaking the mirror but he was scared that he could lose her forever if he did that. In a way, he was selfish because he wanted her around in whatever capacity that he could have her. He'd searched for ten years. Maybe his Father was right. Maybe there really was no hope.

His breath misted around him as it fogged against the unyielding glass. He didn't know what his next move would be. He couldn't go on like this. He was withdrawing his hand to leave and stifled a gasp when he felt a set of warm fingers entwine with his pulled away and glanced down and saw her hand coming through the smooth surface grasping his own.

He blinked stupidly and stumbled backwards as she emerged fully from her gilded, glass cage. He wanted to pinch himself. Surely he was dreaming. Or hallucinating. Or both.

"Thank you," she whispered.

Her voice was everything that he'd imagined it to be. Low and sweet, it was like balm to his tortured soul. "Are you?" he stopped and cleared his throat in embarrassment as his voice cracked with emotion. "Are you really here?"

She smiled softly and squeezed his hand as he hadn't let her go yet. "No. It's real," she assured. "He told me when he imprisoned me that love was the key, that only true love could set me free. He was convinced that it would never happen. He said love is often mistaken for lust and therefore unpure."

"I don't understand," he confessed. His heart felt like it was going to beat right out of his chest. He couldn't believe that she was here, that this was actually happening. He was afraid to blink, that if he closed his eyes, even just for a second, that she would disappear again.

"Voldemort," she clarified as she traced his jaw. "He couldn't feel love. It was a side effect from his Mother dosing his Father with a love potion. He believed that all love was just some form of lust. He said that to break the curse, a wizard had to fall in love with me and I with him, with only pure intent. Then he stuck the mirror to the floor of your Father's study, knowing that it was all but impossible for anyone to get more than a glimpse in the mirror. It was another enchantment, another layer to my prison you see. Only the pure at heart could see me. Only those that had never been blackened by the horrors of the world. That's why your Father never saw me. Or Harry. Or Ron. No one ever saw me until you. The only reason that they knew that I was there was because Severus Snape told them that I was."

"So, when I saw you as a child..."he concluded.

"You were pure of heart," she finished. "Untainted by society. You saw someone who needed help and decided to help with nothing in it for you. You had nothing to gain at the time by freeing me. You kept me going, you know? It was like I was a ghost. And when Harry and Ron came, and I could see them but they couldn't see me. It was horrible. Then I saw you and I realized that you were talking to me and that you could see me. It gave me hope after all those years of darkness. It gave me something to look forward to. I think that I loved you even then."

Scorpius raised his trembling hands and threaded through her unruly hair. He tilted her head back and looked into those chocolate orbs for the first time properly. They were utterly enchanting. There were tiny flecks of pure gold interspersed in the warm brown.

His eyes dropped to her smooth lips. Her face was still dirty but he didn't care. He could only imagine the horrors she had been through. He wanted her so very badly but he was afraid that she wouldn't want him in the same way. He didn't think that he would survive if she was to reject him.

She sighed softly and her eyes fluttered shut as his fingers massaged her scalp softly.

"Scorpius," she whispered.

Her soft voice was his undoing. His mouth slanted over her hungrily as he sampled her lips for the first time. She was a sweet as honey and as warm and inviting as a fire after a cold day. She warmed him through all the way to his toes.

A small whimper escaped her throat and he deepened the kiss as his hunger for her inflamed him. He pressed her smaller body against him and reveled in the fact that her shape fit his perfectly. She would be the next Lady of the Manor. Because now that he had her, he wasn't ever letting her go.

~~~FIN~~~

End Note: Thoughts? Disappointed that there was only limes and not a full lemon? Let me know. I'm glad that this story has come out. It's been plaguing me for months. There is a banner for the fic and all my there fics on my facebook profile. My name is CE Young. Feel free to friend me. See you next time...
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Through the Looking Glass