Memories of You

Hermione ruffled her fingers through the grass that surrounded the Old Oak Tree. Time and time again, she found herself going back there when she needed to be alone. There was something about how the thousand year old bark carved into the tree like veins going to a heart, and how the wind ruffled the leaves, turning its murmur into unreplicable melodies that always brought her peace.

She enjoyed how small the castle looked from that distance below, and how gargantuan the lake was in comparison. She stared at the frozen surface. It was so calm. What would truly happen if she simply walked into the lake and never looked back? It would be so easy, the ice was thin enough. She wouldn’t make a sound. She wouldn’t leave a trace. She’d just disappear, leaving her fate to some lucky grindylows, or the giant squid. She’d just go. Go and never come back.

That’s not what you came to do.

She took out her mirror and brought it closer to her eyes. The leather was good as new, and carefully handsewn on the wooden handle, a complete contrast with the dusted, broken glass. It was evident that part of the charm had escaped through the cracks, only to never return, leaving the mirror only half functioning.

“Accio mirror” She pointed her wand at the object. Nothing happened. If simple charms did not have any effects on it, then finding Circe would be harder than expected.

“Why must you be so complicated.” She groaned. The mirror’s magic was older, and more complex than she had anticipated.

She cursed herself. Had she started her task earlier instead of being so distracted by Pansy, she would have had time to concoct a decent Polyjuice Potion and break into the Slytherin common room, searching any girl's room she encountered until she eventually found her. Obtaining a Slytherin's hair wouldn't have been difficult.

No existing spell would fulfil her needs. Hermione closed her eyes, rushing through every spell she could think of that would help her in any remote way. She could, theoretically, try to combine the memory extraction spell with a good dosage of the Carpe Retractum spell. With a bit of chance, the charm would be pulled out of the mirror and she’d be able to take a closer look.

Dusting up her memory on spell transfiguration had been useful after all.

“Encantatum Retractum!”

Hermione’s eyes widened as a small ball of light filtered out through the cracks of the mirror and floated up to her wand. It was beautiful. Her hand trembled, the charm was one of the most layered and impressive charms she had ever seen. The shake of her wand did not go unnoticed, the sphere immediately lowered back down to the mirror and disappeared.

That small light had been enough to make her meet Circe, binding their fates until the girl had forcefully untethered her into oblivion. But who could it be? She had to be a sixth or seventh year, or Hermione wouldn’t have talked like that with her. Her mind instantly went to Daphne Greengrass.

Her cheeks flushed. Daphne’s family had always been known to not adhere to pureblood supremacy despite their status. Come to think of it, Daphne had never been rude or bullied her. Not that she had ever been rude to anyone. Of a grace only equalled by few, and a softness that would make anyone smile, she mostly surrounded herself with Ravenclaws rather than Slytherins asides from Pansy, of course.

Daphne’s vision was immediately replaced by Pansy’s. How could someone as kind as Daphne be friends with someone like Pansy? Hermione knew the answer. Pansy was kind. And beautiful. And smart. And a good kisser, not that any of that mattered anyway.

Every time she closed her eyes for a moment too long, thoughts of Pansy would flood her mind, leaving a bitter taste in her mouth. The universe’s twisted forces had, for some reason, decided to propel them physically towards each other as often as possible. The more she had tried to avoid her the more she had found herself accidentally running into her. The gardens, the seventh floor, the bathrooms, there was no place to hide from Pansy or from her feelings. She missed her. She missed her terribly. She missed her in a way that made her bones hollow and her heart full.

A driving force to unmask Circe. She needed to use her heartache as a driving force to unmask Circe, not to wallow over what she almost could’ve had with the prettiest girl in the school. Her dimples. Her freckles. Her green eyes and the way she looked when she went on one of her historical rants. The way the corners of her mouth curled, even when she didn’t speak, a tiny smile perpetually tattooed on her face. Her hands, and the veins that defined them. Hermione could have drawn them blindfolded, despite their primary location somehow being buried deep in the pockets of the girl’s trousers. Every thought she had of Pansy was the same. Disjointed, erratic, lustful and desperate. She missed her, needed her, loved her, and any other emotion in between.

Hermione made her way back up the hill that led to the Castle. She had to stick to what she knew if she ever hoped to uncover what she didn’t. The library. She needed to go bury herself under a mountain of books until an idea finally struck her to the head.

“Hermione! Always a delight seeing you around! How have you been?”

“Professor Burbage! I’ve been doing very well, what about you?”

Her shoulders dropped. She had been so close to entering the library without anyone interrupting her.

“Oh you know. Stressful times but we push through. Do you mind helping us carry these study books up to my office? I fear I’ve overestimated us!”

Pansy emerged from behind the Professor, balancing a towering stack of books that obscured her face. Hermione didn’t need to see her to know it was. The untucked bottom of her crisp white blouse and the sleeves rolled up to her elbows, revealing her defined forearms, were unmistakable. It was, without a doubt, Pansy.

“Of course.” Hermione mumbled, her cheeks red.

“Thank you! You know me, I prefer to not use magic for mundane tasks. Doing things the old way sometimes makes everything more magical!” Professor Burbage chanted as she made her way up the stairs.

Pansy didn’t look at her, and instead passed her a singular book before following the Professor up the stairs.

“What is this?” Hermione whispered to Pansy, annoyed, as she pointed to the book.

“It’s a book.”

“Yes. Exactly. Pass me some more. I can carry way more books than that.”

“I know you can. You don’t have to prove yourself to me, Granger.” Pansy still refused to look at her. The sound of her last name stung after having been called Hermione by the very same lips.

“So let me carry more.”

“No.”

Hermione stared at the stairs, flushed. She wasn’t better than the next fool, any act of gallantry being enough to make her lose her ways.

“Hermione dear, how is your friend?”

“He’s doing very well. He’ll make a full recovery. I’m pretty sure he’s due to start classes again tomorrow.”

“I’m glad Weasley is alright. Truly atrocious the times we live in.”

Pansy's body tensed ever so slightly, a movement so subtle that only someone watching her as intently as Hermione would notice.

Pansy rested the pile of books on top of the teacher’s desk before making her way to the door again.

“Do you need me for anything else, Professor?”

“I’m all good Pansy. Thank you for your kindness. I’m sorry things had to end this way.”

Pansy’s lips pursed into a tight smile. “I’m sorry too, Professor. Have a good day. Granger.” she nodded towards her without looking up.

“Did something happen?” Hermione asked Burbage the second Pansy closed the door, leaving them alone.

“You didn’t hear? She dropped out of my class a couple of days ago. We wouldn’t normally allow a student to do that, but her father had been putting pressure on the matter through his branches at the ministry. He even tried to have me fired, saying I was corrupting his daughter with muggle propaganda. Everything was thankfully settled, but I hadn’t seen her until she came to apologise to me today for the trouble she had caused me. Of course none of this is her fault, and I’d never blame her. A real shame. Quiet girl, but smart, and attentive. I haven’t felt that listened to during my lectures in years!”

“I didn’t know.” Hermione mumbled, trying to mask the horror. What consequences had Pansy suffered because of her insistence that she take the class?

“She was a wonder, truly. I knew why you two got along so well the second she stepped through my door. I had been dealing with pure blood’s prejudices for so long that I didn’t realise I had built some myself. Life must really not be easy when one so different is born in such an unwelcoming environment. Just thinking about the isolation and lack of support sends shivers down my spine! I’m glad she has you by her side.”

“I’m glad too.”

___________________

“Stop it Ron, You’re making it snow!.” Hermione implored.

“Tell me how I broke up with Lavender again?” Ron finally put his wand down.

“Um, well.” Hermione gulped, recollecting the awkward moment that had ensued when Ron had regained consciousness. The way she had acted that day never failed to make her embarrassed. But Lavender barging into the room claiming to be the cure to Ron’s poisoning had just been too much for her to handle. “S-She came to visit you at the hospital, and you talked. I don’t… I don’t believe it was a particularly long conversation.”

“I mean don’t get me wrong, I’m bloody thrilled to be shot of her, it’s just… she seems a bit put out.” Ron whispered back, afraid that his word would reach the one he was talking about, sitting a few feet away from them at the next table.

Hermione shifted in her seat. Those words would’ve meant the world to her a few months ago. She even would’ve written about it in her diary. But her embarrassing display of possessiveness in the hospital wing which she sincerely could only attribute to one sided battle of egos still burned like hot iron.

“Yes, she does, doesn’t she.” Hermione suppressed a smile. The atmosphere in their room was about to be incredibly tense until the end of the year. With lavender’s bed almost directly facing hers, she needed to make sure her things were properly locked away.

“You say you don’t remember anything from that night? Anything at all?”

“There is something,” Ron paused, confused.

Please don’t. Say you don’t remember anything.

“But it can’t be, I was completely boggled, wasn’t I?”

“Right. Boggled.” Hermione let out the breath she didn’t know she had been holding. She was safe for another day. “Harry. That’s Katie. Katie Bell.” She nodded towards the girl. She had been meaning to be alone with Ron for a bit. Apologies were long due. With Pansy out of the picture and Ron back to sitting next to her, she had hoped she’d be able to settle things back to their original state. A non abrasive yet somewhat dull state, but a satisfactory state nonetheless. Harry’s obsession with the Opal necklace and Katie was the perfect diversion.

“Ron.” She started, gathering up her courage the second Harry left the table. Things hadn’t been the same between them for a while. She needed to make amends. Let her pride go. She needed to forget about Pansy. She needed her friend.

“I’m sorry.” Ron cut her. “I know that I haven’t been a good friend since Lavender and I started dating. I should’ve tended more to our friendship.”

“Oh. Well, that’s,” Hermione arched her eyebrows, surprised. “I don’t know what to say. It’s water under the bridge really.”

“I’m just glad to be back with you and Harry.”

“He was a much better friend than I was if I’m honest. He truly did not leave your side the entire time. I’m thinking it was because he was tired of being stuck in the dorm with Dean and Neville without you.”

“You were a great friend too.” Ron rested a hand on her forearm. Hermione gripped onto her daily prophet tighter, startled by the unexpected physical contact. God, she was starved. ”You know, when I was going in and out of consciousness for those few days, all I could think of was you, and Harry. It’s like I had completely forgotten that Lavender even existed, so I clung onto what I knew best, onto what felt safe, you guys.”

“We really missed you.” Was all Hermione could say. Ron had never been one of many words. She had craved to be wanted by him, to be seen as special. But now, as she smiled at her dear friend, all she could think about was how her slytherin confidante hadn’t come to eat down at the Great Hall all week.

“Where did Harry go?” Ron asked, freeing them both from an uncomfortable silence.

“He’s talking with Bell over-” Hermione frowned. Harry had vanished. “That’s weird. I didn’t notice him leaving.”

“Neither did I. He left all of his things too.”

“Everything but that stupid book he’s been carrying around.”

“Tell me about it. Did you know he holds it while he sleeps? I’d be surprised to learn that he doesn’t shower with it.”

“Should we grab his things and just walk to class?”

“Sounds good to me.”

Hermione had almost forgotten just how funny Ron truly was. She hadn’t laughed like that in weeks. She couldn’t help but stare at his hands as he carried Harry’s stack of books. They were strong, and his fingers were long, not unlike Pansy’s. She closed her eyes in an attempt at grounding herself. Ron. She needed to focus on Ron.

“Harry? What the bloody hell happened to you?”

Ron’s frantic voice was enough for her to open her eyes back immediately. Harry stood on the top of the stair, drenched, pale as a ghost. His knuckles clenched around his wand shook with violence.

“Are you okay? Tell us what happened?” Hermione removed her robe before placing it over her friends shoulders. Harry’s expression was indecipherable. “Harry talk to us!” Panic was starting to overcome her, the tremble of her voice matching Harry’s shivers.

“Malfoy.”

“He did this to you? I’m gonna strangle that bastard!” Ron roared. Harry shook his head.

“Then who did”

“I did. I hexed Malfoy.”

Pansy.

“Are you mad? Why would you do that?”

Harry rubbed his eyes. The echo of students starting to walk to their classes echoed all around them.

“He’s in the hospital wing. I don’t know. I just. Ron, what have I done? There was so much blood. I don’t think I’ve ever seen that much blood.”

“Ron. take him to your room. Right now. Everyone is going to start asking questions.” Hermione demanded.

“But-

“Now!”

“You’re right. We’ll see you there.” Ron wrapped his arm around Harry and turned away. Hermione stood frozen until the throng of students swallowed them before running the stairs in the opposite direction. She needed to find Pansy, and quickly. Draco was her only support. Her heartbeat pounded in her temples, making it hard to breathe. Pansy was alone, with no one to confide in, no one to listen, no one to care.

The journey to the Slytherin dungeon felt interminable, making Hermione wonder why Pansy ever ventured to the seventh floor. She wasn’t sure of the exact location of the Slytherin common room, so she followed the few students she encountered, keeping a low profile.

She reached a dead end. There was still no sign of Pansy, and she had lost track of the students. Hermione took in her surroundings. The torches burned dimmer here than in other parts of the castle, and the lack of windows made her feel suffocated. A statue she had never seen before towered over her. Her blood chilled as she recognized the man depicted, Salazar Slytherin. Yet another reminder that she was not welcome in this part of the castle.

“Hermione? What are you doing here?” Daphne startled her. She hadn’t heard her arrive.

“Daphne! I’m looking for Pansy.” Hermione stared at the floor, her cheeks burning at the sound of Daphne’s voice pronouncing her name. Was that the voice of Circe in her dreams? She couldn’t recall. Daphne’s blonde curls had been pulled back by two pins, and cascaded down her shoulders. Hermione had long been jealous of how effortless it seemed for the girl to tame her curls, something she still struggled with.

“Pansy? Why are you looking for Pansy?”

“I- um. I actually have some Prefect timetable changes I need to share with her. I’ve been told it was urgent so I came here to see if she was in her common room since she doesn’t have class.”

“How do you know she doesn’t have class?” Daphne frowned.

“Well. That's a good question.” Hermione begged the ceiling for an answer to magically fall down onto her. “That’s because it’s on the timetable! That’s right. We all have each other’s schedules to make planning the night rounds easier.”

“I see. I guess that does make sense. I’m really sorry Hermione, but I think you’re out of luck. I’m only coming back to grab the homework I had forgotten. She’s not in our room. Though I’ll look again for you.”

“Thank you. That means a lot.” Hermione nodded. Where could she be?

“Hermione?”

“Yes?”

“If you do find her… Be gentle with her. She’s been having a really hard time.”

“Yes. Yes of course.” Hermione nodded. The scene she had caused in potion’s class had really painted her in a way she didn’t like to those who didn’t know well.

“Pureblood!” Daphne demanded at the wall. Hermione watched in horror as a giant stone snake appeared before serpentining against the wall tracing the outline of a door. “I’m sorry. I didn’t choose the password. I’m sorry. I hope you have a good day.” Daphne shot her an apologetic look before disappearing into the common room.

Hermione turned around, her heart heavy with defeat, ready to leave, until she noticed her. There, at the end of the hallway, stood Pansy, illuminated by the dim torchlight.

“Pansy,” she called out, her voice tinged with desperation.

“I can’t do this right now,” Pansy whispered before she disappeared around the corner.

“Pansy, wait!”

Pansy didn't turn around, her footsteps reverberating off the stone walls. Hermione followed, her breathing growing laboured as they navigated the maze-like halls and unfamiliar staircases.

“Pansy!” Hermione called out again, her urgency mounting. She pushed herself harder, her legs burning with the effort.

How does she even walk so bloody fast?

Finally, she managed to catch up, her fingers closing around Pansy’s boney wrist.

“Why did Potter have to do that? Why! why! Why! Couldn’t he just leave us alone?” Pansy shrieked.

“I’m so sorry. I came as soon as I got the news.”

“I can’t do it without him. You don’t understand.” Pansy dropped to the floor, sobbing. Hermione had never seen her in such a state. Her usual perfectly combed hair was greasy, and unkempt. The dark circles under her eyes contrasted against her pale, frail appearance. “Pomfrey says he has to stay in the hospital wing until the end of the year.”

Hermione rested her hand on her shoulder. “I’m going to talk to him. I promise. In the meantime I’ll be here. I’ll be here for you. You are not alone. You have me. Let’s just forget everything that happened between us and start from scratch, okay? We can forget everything. We can just be Hermone and Pansy. Friends who are there for each other.”

She wanted much more with Pansy than friendship. But above all, she wanted Pansy to not be alone. She wanted Pansy alive. Pansy finally looked up at her, her glassy eyes accompanied with an emptiness Hermione knew all too well.

“None of it matters anymore Hermione. Potter sealed our fate. I still have time to change Draco’s, but I can no longer change ours.”

“What do you mean? We have time! We have so much time.” Hermione implored, begging to understand the realisation that Pansy had just had.

“You have no idea what your friend just did.” Pansy shook her head in defeat. “We are doomed.”

The sound of students getting out of their first period echoed against the walls of the hall they sat in. “Let’s get you out of here. Come on, Pans.” Hermione helped her get up before grabbing her hand, ignoring how flustered her own actions made her feel. Pansy didn’t say a word, and instead let herself be strung along. She had no strength. No will.

Hermione finally found the door she had been looking for, dragging them inside before making sure to lock it. “Let’s get you cleaned up.” She said before turning on every faucet that decorated the prefect’s bathroom. “No offence, but you look like crap.” Hermione tried to earn a smile from Pansy.

Pansy nodded. “I must admit, a shower is long overdue.”

Hermione walked towards her until they were inches apart, their eyes meeting. They didn’t need to say anything. They knew. Hermione loosened Pansy’s tie and removed it while Pansy undid the buttons of her white shirt one by one.

Hermione’s eyes widened. Pansy’s bandage hiding every inch of skin from her wrist to her elbow had taken an entire new, terrifying meaning. The thought of Pansy thinking about putting an end to her days was unbearable, but Hermione knew better than to ask questions. She was there now. No matter how much Pansy, or the universe pushed them apart, she’d recoil right back. She’d never leave.

“I’ll turn around so you can, uhm” Hermione’s cheeks flushed. “There should be more than enough bubbles by now. Just tell me when you’re in the water.”

“You can look now.” Pansy’s voice replied after a few seconds. Hermione took a deep breath before turning back around. Pansy had sat in the bath, leaving nothing but her head, neck and shoulders exposed. She took a few hesitant steps before sitting on the marbled edge of the giant tub. Pansy leaned her head backwards until rested on Hermione’s thigh, allowing their eyes to meet.

“Will you let me take care of you? Just this once? We can forget all about it all when we leave this bathroom, I promise.”

Pansy closed her eyes and nodded slowly. Hermione watched powerless as the girl’s chin trembled and her eyes squinted, fighting back inevitable tears.

“I could’ve been a really good student, you know? I was a good student. I could’ve. I could’ve been so much more than what I am”

Nothing Hermione could’ve said would’ve made things better. Different reassuring words came to her mind, but none were worth translating to her lips. Instead, she brought her fingers up to Pansy’s hair and combed through the dark locks. Even at her most vulnerable, Pansy held a beauty that no other human was deserving of. Hermione grabbed one of the ceramic bowls that had been out at her disposition.

“I can wash my hair myself."

“I know you can. You don’t have to prove yourself to me.”

Water trickled down Pansy’s neck and onto Hermione’s clothes. She couldn’t react to the girl’s tears, she just needed to keep on washing her hair. Pansy was like a little bird that had finally dared to approach the edge of a precarious nest. One wrong move from Hermione’s part and she’d cower back into her lone cave, one wrong move and she’d never jump.

Hermione waited until all of Pansy’s tears had left her cheeks and fallen into the water. She didn’t know how long had passed, or how many people were looking for her. None of it mattered, she thought as she kneeled on the marble floor behind Pansy. Only she mattered, she thought as she wrapped her arms around Pansy’s collarbone, her sleeves inevitably sinking a little deeper in the now lukewarm water. Their cheeks rested against each other without their lips begging to get closer.

The world outside could wait.

“Will you let me keep you company for the rest of the day?” Hermione asked after they exited the bathroom. The sight of Pansy’s bandages had triggered in Hermione a fear that was difficult to control. With Draco out of the picture, she couldn’t risk anything.

Pansy nodded. “I’ll have to go do something for Draco after dinner.”

“Can I keep you company until then?”

“I think I’d really like that.”
__________________________

Hermione slammed the door of her bedroom shut. It was in moments like these that she wished she had a space of her own. The altercation she had had with Harry following their return to the common room after dinner had almost resulted in his second broken nose of the year. Ron, of course, had taken his side, proving once that his Gryffindor’s sense of loyalty failed to meet moral standards on moments where reason needed to prevail.

“Did you and Ron break up already?” Lavender asked from behind the curtains of her bed.

“You know, Lavender, I’ve been thinking that you and Ron didn’t break up because he wanted me. You broke up because he didn’t want you. Now if you don’t leave me alone I’ll drag him up these stairs and make him say it to your face.”

Lavender didn’t reply. Hermione’s anger, as misplaced as it was, needed an outlet. Perhaps kicking someone who was already down was not the solution. She grabbed her mirror and stormed out of her room, determined to reach the top of the Astronomy Tower without slowing down, even as the burning sensation in her calves grew more unbearable with each step.

Hermione sat cross legged on the balcony floor and placed the mirror in front of her before grabbing her head in her hands. Circe fleeing. Harry’s foolish use of unknown dark magic. Ron’s unfortunate attachment and detachment to Lavender. Pansy’s life becoming nothing but a string of punishments that followed each other in a machiavellian restless manner. The people in Hermione’s life had crumbled, hurt, and vanished while she was forced in a paralysing bystander position.

“Encantatum Retractum!” She screamed.The strength she had put into the spell was enough to make the sphere of life appear from the mirror. She held onto her wand with both hands, the pull of the now awakened dormant spell begging to find its way back to the mirror. She managed to raise it a few dozen centimetres above her head before inevitably caving. There wasn’t enough time for her to analyse the charm. The pull towards the mirror was too strong.

Hermione pinched her nose bridge. The answer wasn’t far, she could feel it. She just needed to consider the theoretical architecture of the spell, and try until something worked instead of trying to dissect it outside of its home.

“Think Hermione, think.” She begged herself.

The mirrors had to be identical, but it made more sense for a connective spell to have been split into two rather than for two separate spells to have been created for the occasion. Two halves of a whole would fight to keep a connection much more than two entities ever would. Her eyes widened. Perhaps the mirrors were not a home, and instead a cage for the charm. By splitting it before trapping it into the mirrors, the creator of the artefact had guaranteed the otherwise non magical mirrors would each conserve their half. There was, however, no use in breaking her copy, Hermione concluded, as the crack on the glass was enough to confirm part of the charm had died along with the object during a previous unfortunate accident.

“I need to force you out, and make you forget this mirror ever existed. You’ll go find your other half, you’ll cling onto what you know best, what feels safe.”

Hermione jumped to her feet, startled by her own discovery. Ron’s awkward attempt at a display of affection had turned into the foundation to the most solid theory she had created thus far. It made sense. It wasn’t too complicated. Simple, clever, beautiful, alike to the essence of the mirrors themselves.

If her train of thought was right, then a disillusionment charm, perhaps combined with a temporary concealment charm casted at the mirror while the charm was kept outside would be enough to redirect it straight to Circe’s mirror.

It was with a shaky wand that Hermione pointed at her mirror once more.

“Encantatum Retractum!” She demanded again, raising the charm as high up in the air as she could before breaking the bond. She only had a split second to cast her second spell before it would be too late once more. The charm dove towards the mirror before stopping abruptly. Hermione's eyes widened as it paused for a second before starting a journey down the tower’s spiral staircase.
Everything had worked.

Hermione patted the floor, desperate to find the mirror she had concealed too well for her to even see. Her fingers finally wrapped themselves around the handle after a few seconds, finally allowing her to run down the stairs, desperate to not lose sight of the charm.

Her heart pounded violently in her chest as she made her way down to the seventh floor, praying that the late hour would be enough to guarantee she’d cross paths with no one. A thousand different ways her now unstoppable plan could go wrong flashed through her mind. Circe could be in her common room, forcing Hermione to stay outside, dumbfounded by the hideous Salazar Slytherin Statue again. Circe could have given her mirror to someone else, or simply destroyed it in order to never be found.

Hermione shook her head. Regardless of the thousand different possible negative outcomes to her extremely unprepared crooked plan, she would focus on the probability of things finally working her way once and for all.

The spell stopped for a second in front of a wall she knew all too well before crossing to the other side.

Hermione’s shoulders sank. Standing in front of the room of requirements was the last thing she had hoped for.

She got rid of it.

“A room to find Circe’s mirror.” Hermione whispered as she passed by the tapestry three times. She was never going to find Circe, for the girl had chosen to bury the connection they had in the room that hid all secrets, and swallowed all things. Chances were the wall wouldn’t even open for her.

To her great surprise, a small wooden door appeared on the grey stone. Hermione turned the knob with haste, hoping the charm hadn’t ventured itself too far in.

She couldn’t believe her eyes. The room resembled in nothing the one she had trained with the A.D. during the previous year. Mountains of stacked objects climbed to the infinite ceiling, creating a precarious maze unlike anything she had ever seen. Luckily for her, the charm was somehow still visible further down the room. She couldn’t find Circe, but she could still find her mirror, one more piece to the puzzle she’d never get to complete.

Hermione stopped in her tracks after several minutes of search in the abysmal room.

A voice.

She could hear a voice.

She took a deep breath. Was Circe in the room after all? What could she possibly be doing in that place at such an ungodly hour? Her breaths grew shallow. It was too late to back out. There was nothing she could do but to face the one she had been chasing for so long. Hermione raised her wand and continued her way, resigned.

“You? You’re Circe?”
_______________

“Hermione? What are you doing here?” Pansy almost dropped her wand to the floor.

“You’re Circe?”

“You can’t be here!”

“How could you!”

“Follow me and I’ll tell you everything you want.” Pansy grabbed her hand and pulled her deeper into the maze, taking lefts and rights as often as she could to disorient her. All she could do was hope that Hermione, a history buff particularly knowledgeable on magical artefacts from ancient Europe had not recognised the vanishing cabinet that towered behind her.

“Answer me Pansy! Are you really Circe?” Hermione yanked her hand away.

“Yes.”

There was no use in lying, Pansy knew a lost cause when she saw one. Hermione shoved her harder than she expected. Her weakened body flung backwards for an instant before Hermione grabbed her by the collar, bringing their faces close together. Pansy didn’t dare to look away as Hermione’s eyes flashed with betrayal and confusion.

“You erased my memory!”

“I did.”

“Why? Why would you do that? You did it without even asking me and you just took them away from me!”

“You knew why. You understood why I had to.”

“Well I had to be out of my mind. I don’t believe that anymore. I want to know. I want to remember and I never want to forget again.”

“Hermione, why can’t you ever leave well enough alone?”

“Because you stole from me. Because I spent weeks feeling hollow, and I thought I’d never be happy again. You have no idea what it was like, Pansy, no idea! So forgive me for refusing to leave well enough alone, and wanting back what was taken away from me!”

“How did you find me? How did you find out I was Circe?” Pansy did her best to move past the hurt in Hermione’s voice. She had combed through every memory of them together, and used a spell stronger than Obliviate. How could Hermione have found trace of her again?

“My journal. I had written about you.” Hermione looked down, embarrassed, before finally letting go of Pansy’s shirt. She paced around, holding her head in her hands. There was no other solution. With a swift movement she turned around and pointed her wand at Pansy, unable to mask the shake in her wrist. “Tell me everything or I’ll get it out of you.”

Pansy didn’t reply, and instead started walking towards her.

“Stay where you are!” Hermione pleaded. Pansy, who now stood inches away from her, fell onto her knees. She had nothing left to lose, nothing else to give but what she was being begged to return. Her hand reached to meet Hermione’s. In an ultimate act of surrender, she brought the girl’s wand to her temple before looking up.

“My mind is yours. Search for what you want.”

“I’ve never used that spell before.” Hermione trembled.

“I won’t put up a fight. You can do as you please, and find the answers to everything you wish.” Pansy whispered. She was tired.

Hermione hesitated for a few seconds, staring down into Pansy’s green eyes. She had never seen her so vulnerable, and weak.

“Hermione, please.”

“This is an incredibly invasive spell.” Hermione shifted, uncomfortable at the sight of her wand resting on Pansy’s head.

“By searching my mind you will simply find that you were already there. Everywhere. I am yours.” Pansy closed her eyes, waiting for the all too familiar feeling. Few seconds passed before Hermione conceded.

“Legillimens!”