The Dead Boy's Girlfriend
Hermione wondered if Cedric had once possessed both copies of the mirror. But had that been the case, Circe wouldn’t have hers in the castle. The dead boy's parents would’ve certainly recuperated all of their son’s belongings, so how did the mirrors add up in the equation? Before leaving the store, Hermione asked the vendor one last question.
“Would you happen to know what caused the mirror to break?”
“If the young boy told me, I certainly don’t remember. However the mirror clearly didn’t work the way it was supposed to anymore. It didn’t reflect anything anymore, simply a black void. It took me days of work to repair it because of how ancient the spell living in it was. It’s always harder when the magic is older than a century, but there’s nothing I can’t fix. If you do get your hands on the second copy, bring it in. I’ll repair it for free and you and your friends will be able to see each other through the glass.”
Hermione left, excited to share her findings with Circe. She knew that the latter would be busy that night, so she had planned on catching up with some studying. She hadn’t spent nearly as much time as she should at the library this year, now that her free time was spent talking to Circe and being angry at Ron. Thankfully, the years she had spent studying more material than needed were not letting her down. Still, putting her head back in some books will ground her, and allow her to take some pressure off of her shoulders. She had known Circe for two months now, and she could say with ease that the girl had started to play an important part in her life.
It was only during the earliest hours of the morning that the girl made her presence known. Hermione hadn’t been able to sleep, her body having grown accustomed to their late night talks.
“You’ll never guess what I’m about to tell you!” started Hermione, “I went to Dervish and Banges to find out more about the mirror, and it turns out it had been brought by a student to get it fixed, but he never came to claim it back.”
“You’re a charming detective, dear Hypatia. Any extra information on that student? Does he still attend Hogwarts?” Pansy was extremely tired, and hadn’t it been for her need to speak to her mirror girl every night for her day to feel complete, she’d be asleep by now. Her and Draco had spent hours taking turns on the Vanishing closet, to no avail of course.
“No, he’s actually dead”
“Dead? Well that sucks for our investigation. What are you going to do?”
“Seeing the fact that our dead student is Cedric Diggory, I know exactly what I’m going to do.”
“Diggory? This mirror belonged to Diggory?” Pansy asked, still not believing what she had heard. Cedric Diggory had been the Dark Lord’s first victim when he had come back to life. The boy had tutored her in arithmancy once, when she was a second year. A knot formed in her stomach. Pansy vividly remembered the summer following her fourth year at Hogwarts, where she hadn’t been allowed to cry his death at her house, her family celebrating instead the return of the Dark Lord.
“Yes, I have his mirror. So I think I’m going to go find his girlfriend at the time and ask her some questions.”
“Wait, you said your mirror was fixed? Then why can’t we see each other?”
“I don’t know. Mine looks brand new, does yours?”
Pansy looked at her mirror’s peeling leather.
“No, mine definitely didn’t get the same treatment.” Pansy thought about the possibility of getting her mirror repaired. She’d finally be able to see the girl. On the flip side, that would mean they’d have to spend several days without speaking to each other while the mirror was off at the workshop. Plus, Pansy almost didn’t wish to see the girl through the glass anymore. She had daydream once too many times the day their gaze would meet in a hallway, or the day she’d hear Hypatia speak and recognise her instantly. Seeing her through the mirror without being able to hold her in her arms sounded more like torture than anything else.
Now that Hypathia’s stupid crush was off with another girl, Pansy couldn’t help but have her hopes of a romantic relationship with the mirror girl be flared up again. She had decided to spend her energy trashing him at every chance that she got, without proposing for them to meet again. It would be Hypatia that would come begging for them to see each other this time. While even she could recognise that this wasn’t the most mature means to end, it was the only one she had been able to come up with.
“By the way, the vendor claimed he can fix basically any ancient magical item. I forgot to ask him about your chest, but I strongly recommend you go take a lot at his shop. There’s great stuff in there.”
“Oh, um, yes, I will, thank you.” Pansy tried to keep her tone neutral as adrenaline rushed through her body. Could it be that her days spent in the room of requirements were coming to an end? She changed the subject. “So you said these mirrors are old? How old exactly?”
“He says they’re 200 years old, though you could never tell looking at mine. The red leather looks like it was made yesterday.”
Pansy grimaced looking at her mirror once again. She wasn’t used to owning the less luxurious version of any item, always buying the latest version of her books and quills at the beginning of her years at hogwarts.
“Mine looks so old the leather turned brown. Anyway, what have you decided to do to heal your broken heart?” Pansy asked, absentmindedly.
“Well, I was really wanting to go with him to the Slughorn party, so now that that’s not happening, I don’t really know what to do.”
“Oh I know exactly what you should do. Go with the person he hates the most, that way he’ll be enraged. Here, why don’t you go with me?”
Are you stupid Pansy? What happened to sitting back and waiting for her to ask you to meet up?
“You’re really stubborn, you know?” Hermione laughed. “Don’t worry, I find it cute. But that wouldn’t work. He may be the person you hate the most, but he doesn’t know you. Don’t worry, your idea has reminded me of the perfect candidate, and since I’ve heard he’s interested in me, I’ll have no problem getting him to come with me.” She smiled thinking about all the angry rants Ron had had about Cormac McLaggen.
“Alright then. Who’s the lucky bloke?” Pansy asked, trying her best to be supportive.
“Do you know who McLaggen is? He’s a Seventh year.”
Pansy grabbed her head with both hands, and screamed into her pillow out of frustration. Though her mimics were a bit dramatic, they were perfectly justified. Of course she knew who McLaggen was. An arrogant Gryffindor, who could not go two sentences without slipping a sexist joke or a remark on his father’s wealth. Even the pure blood families felt shame when hearing that name, a name that had become synonymous with conceitedness, crass, and embarrassment.
“So you’ve decided to go to idiot number two in order to forget idiot number one? Of course I’ll never be your type. If I started burping loudly in the hallways while checking out every girl that passed by, would you then give me a chance?” Pansy joked, earning a laugh from Hypatia.
Pansy finally realised something. Up to then, she had had no clue as to what Hypatia’s Hogwarts house was. Of course, she knew that the girl had to be a Gryffindor or a Slytherin, as those two teams had fought in the quidditch match but that was all. Now that she knew that the boy hated McLaggen, who played as reserve for the Gryffindor Quidditch team, Hypatia being a Slytherin made the most sense. She thought back on her team. Were there two players that were good friends off the pitch? Crabbe and Goyle fit the criteria.
The idea that she had been talking with a Slytherin girl sleeping across the hall in the other dorm became possible. Her eyes widened. Could it have been that she had fallen for Milicent Bullstrode? Her idea of a tall blonde beauty was instantly replaced with the traits of the short slytherin girl. There were also the Greengrass sisters, pretty in their own way, and Tracey Davis. None were ugly, but she couldn’t imagine having any of the conversations she had with Hypatia with them. Daphne Greengass was the most her type out of them all, but Pansy knew for a fact the girl hated History.
There was also another flaw to her logic. Neither Crabbe, nor Goyle had recently gotten girlfriends, so who was Hypatia crying about? She let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding, relieved. The imaginary version she had created of Hypatia slowly building itself back up in her mind. But still, she had to ask.
“I just had an illumination, Hypatia. Would your initials happen to be M. B. ?”
Pansy heard a laugh coming from the other side of the mirror. Was the girl laughing because she had gotten it right?
“No, that’s not it. But you could try every combination of the alphabet and I still wouldn’t tell you. I mean, how many possibilities even is that, 26 times 26?”
“676.” Pansy Groaned.
“Did you have anyone in mind?”
“Yes, I actually did. Though I’m mostly relieved you aren’t her.”
Hermione giggled at the idea that Circe had imagined her to be Mandy Brocklehurst, Melinda Bobbin, or even Milicent Bullstrode. Surely there were other girls with those initials roaming around the castle, but those were the three names that had come to her. She laid in her bed, arms crossed against her chest, holding the mirror against her heart.
“You know, if McLaggen says no, come with me to the party. I may not make him jealous, but at least I’ll have a good time.”
Pansy smirked. “Even if we’re both girls?”
“Even if we’re both girls. Who cares, it’s just a stupid party anyway.” Pansy could tell that Hypatia was smiling as she said those words. She felt herself levitate. All hope was not lost.
“Well, I’ll make sure to pick out my prettiest dress just in case. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to get some rest. Please keep me updated on your detective adventures, I’m intrigued with what the dead boy’s girlfriend has to say. Goodnight!” Pansy had preferred to cut their conversation short in order to not put in danger her winning streak.
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Hermione had been Looking around for Cho Chang all week for an opportunity to approach her, perhaps in a hallway, or exiting a classroom. Of course, she saw her every night at dinner, but approaching her there with the inquiry that she had would be awkward more than anything else. Plus, Cho and Harry were still not exactly on speaking terms, so she had decided against it. Her best friend didn’t have to know what she was up to during her free hours. But she knew Harry had moved on, having gone from having his heart played with by Ginny, instead of Cho. Hermione would’ve found it ridiculous had she not been in a similar situation.
She spent most of her days now studying in order to make up for the evenings she spent with Circe. This was also convenient for Harry, who did not have to choose between his two friends, and instead spent the majority of his time with Ron. The latter had understood that Hermione was not exactly happy with him, but had instead decided to ignore it and continue to live out his bliss Lavender regardless.
Hermione finally reached the Ravenclaw tower. She knew that classes for the Seventh Years had ended not too long ago, so she positioned herself under a window sill in the hallway she had judged would maximise her chances of crossing paths with Cho. She knew to be patient when she had to be.
A group of Ravenclaw girls passed by accompanied by Ernie Carmichael who must’ve just told the joke of the century as they all broke into laughter.
“Hey Eddie, sorry to bother you. Have you seen Cho by any chance?”
“Oh hi Hermione! I’m sorry, I haven’t seen her in a while. If I see her in the common room, I’ll tell her you’re looking for her!”
“Thanks Eddie.”
Hermione took out a book from her bag, ready to wait for hours if she needed to. Luckily for her, not ten minutes passed before Cho came out from behind the Ravenclaw common room door. Eddie must’ve kept his word.
“Hermione!” The girl said while skipping towards her, a bright smile painted across her face.