Mirror, Mirror
Hermione's tiny hourglass
is so simple to operate --
and so dangerous.
Original story material is the property of the fanfic author; other material of Rowling et al. falls under the usual disclaimer. Written for the Godric's Hollow challenge, Summer 2004.
but then, face to face.
"Good morning, Beholder," said Hermione Granger. "You're looking crystal clear, as always."
"Ah, Miss Bookworm!" came the cheery response. "Welcome back for Third Year. How are you, Hermione?"
"I was hoping you would tell me. It's going to be a long, uphill day."
Beholder was the full-length mirror by the door of the Gryffindor girls' dormitory. Many years ago, it had been charmed by a romantic student to answer the classic "Mirror, mirror on the wall" request. Another girl had sardonically posted a sign alongside, reading:
CINDERELLAS
Beauty is in the eye
of the beholder.
Eventually, the girls found that this beholder was developing a personality. The mirror's male voice was quite nice, and spoke in a brotherly way, with a sense of humour. After a few years on the job, Beholder developed good taste in judging their appearance, kindly letting them know when anything was amiss, and praising what was spectacular. Even the less-pretty girl could depend on a friendly and honest appraisal from this glazier's version of a house mother.
"All in all, Hermione, you look tanned, rested and ready. Mind your tie; it's crooked."
"Oh! Thanks. Um... I'll be stopping by more often this term. It'll look funny to you, but please, don't mention it to anyone. Pardon me if I don't explain, but Third Year is going to be very busy for me. I fear I'll be running ragged."
"So far, so good," said the mirror. "Enjoy your first day."
"Thanks," she replied, and dashed off.
Beholder was a bit surprised when Hermione ran into the room again, only a minute later. She was panting and sweating a bit. Hurriedly she primped her hair at the mirror.
"My goodness!" said Beholder. "Back already? What happened to you? Did you forget something? You've got your books... how about your wand?"
She held up her wand. "Got it, thanks. Got everything. It's a long story; tell you later. Got to run." Fingering the hourglass dangling from her neck, she left the dorm again...
... and arrived again, in a right state.
She quickly changed a few books in her bag, then combed her wind-blown hair with her fingers. Her tie, already askew, was loosened even more.
"I won't ask," said the mirror, "but do tell me about it some time."
"Canttalkrightnowbye." She was gone again.
Hermione's ginger cat waddled up in confusion, looking from his fleeing owner to the mirror.
If the mirror could have shrugged to the cat, it would have. "Me neither, Crookshanks."
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She was no better off after lunch. Beholder thought it prudent to have a word with her.
"Sorry to say, Hermione, you're falling apart today... oh, and I suppose this is just your first stop at the mirror, in an afternoon as busy as your morning?"
"First sighting by you, maybe. Actually, it's my second visit. The first should be soon." With that cryptic remark, and a wink, she tore though the doorway.
Then she returned. Beholder was starting to see a pattern.
"So this is your first afternoon visit?"
"Third. Gotta run." And did.
A few minutes later, Hermione strolled in. "Beholder, if anyone comes in while I'm here, greet them loudly, please," she said, and went to wash her hands after lunch. Then, she casually stuffed some books in her bag, and primped her hair at the mirror.
"You're the last one, you know," said Beholder. "I've already had your second and third visits."
"Really?" she said. "I must be keeping up the pace. That's great news!" She leisurely departed.
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After two weeks of this strangeness, Hermione was as glassy-eyed as the mirror. Beholder could no longer restrain its curiosity.
"Hermione, you're alone in the room. No one is going to hear you except me. Could you explain your odd behaviour of late?"
Hermione was busy patting makeup on the dark circles under her eyes. "If I have to share it with someone, I suppose you'll do, without breaking my promise. I'm time-traveling. I attend a class, then jump back an hour and go to a different class. I won't tell you how. And you shan't tell anyone!"
"Of course not. Tell me -- for a time-traveler, how many hours are there in a 24-hour day?"
"For me, 30 hours on my busiest day... this term, at least. I haven't decided what I'll be taking in January."
"I think it's affecting your health, dear girl. Does the school staff know about this?"
"Of course. How could they not? Keep it a secret, now. See you later."
Beholder thought about this all afternoon. A mirror, unlike a busy school girl, always has time for reflection.
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Time flies. Spring approached; by now, it was obvious from her appearance that the crushing load of classes was becoming too much for her. Beholder tried to tell her, but she didn't want to talk about it.
One day, in her increasing confundity, she time-turned twice by accident, and arrived before noon instead of 1 PM. She had to hide in the bath for an hour.
The mirror noticed how thin she was becoming. How baggy her eyes, how stooped her walk, how confused her thoughts! This was a girl who could conquer a library full of books, one by one -- but a bag of a few books on her back was slowly killing her.
Beholder surmised that she wasn't discussing her problem with the staff, her parents, her friends or anyone else.
Her only confidant was a mirror.
Beholder faced the situation. One would think a mirror could get her to look herself in the eye! Is it not in a mirror's nature? Why could a mirror not convince a girl to see herself as others see her?
So, it would seem that she can deny in her own mind what she sees in a mirror's reflection. But... perhaps, if she and her image were both real? If that opportunity were to present itself…
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A harried, listless Hermione dragged herself in for the second time that afternoon. She strained to reload the heavy book bag, then staggered to the mirror. One 1PM class down, more to come! she moaned to herself.
That was when Hermione #1 rounded the corner, returning from washing her hands, and saw Hermione #2 by the mirror.
Instantly, #1 was infuriated. She charged across the room, past the other Hermione, and kicked the mirror out of sheer frustration-- not injuring anything but her own toes.
"I SHOULD SMASH YOU! I've take precautions to avoid time anomaly problems. Every day, I've reminded you to speak out loudly if someone comes in the room while I'm out of sight washing. What part of that didn't you understand? Now, not only do I meet somebody, but it's ME! And what if someone else walks in right now, and finds TWO of me? If Professor McGonagall hears about this from the Ministry, she's going to throw me to the squid!"
"Forgive me," said Beholder quietly. "I couldn't pass up this opportunity. I didn't shout on purpose. I thought it was time to let you really see how much harm you're doing to yourself, in the flesh."
The Hermiones turned to look at each other. Each was shocked at how drawn, pale and spent the other was. This was a moment of truth.
"Yes, well..." said Hermione #2 pensively, then she jumped. "I have to run to class now."
"Fine, but... don't time-turn to the third class," said Hermione #1, with a forced calmness. "Enough of this. I'll work out my schedule, tonight. All right?"
"All right," said the other, with a slight smile of relief, and left.
The still-angry Hermione walked away from the mirror, and reached for her bag of heavy books. "You've convinced me, Beholder. I'm carrying entirely too many books. So -- I'm going to throw one."
"Smash me if you must," said the mirror. "I kept your secret, and told you what I saw. That is nothing more than I've done for every girl who's looked into me since I was charmed."
"I know," she said, taking out her Divination book. "It's not your fault if what you see is pitiful."
"You're not pitiful. You just need to seek the honesty of friends. Share your problems. Don't be afraid that they're going to talk. A real friend will treat you fairly."
"One good throw should ease all your troubles," she said -- and with all her remaining energy, she hurled the book.
It hit the floor and slid under her four-poster bed. "Perfect throw!" she said. "That's one less class to attend. Oh, how I detest Divination! And there'll be no more time-turning nonsense next year; then you should have no complaint coming. I should be fit as a fiddle -- and gorgeous every day, right?"
"I hope so, for your sake. I can only speak for the present. Did you want an honest appraisal of your current looks, Hermione?"
"Don't push your luck -- I have more books handy, after all! Now pardon me, I have to run to my first 1 PM class. I'll be back in an hour to listen to me yell at you, then the anomaly will be gone. And... thanks, friend."