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He missed dinner. Again.
And there he was, once more — standing in front of the Mirror of Erised, inside the Room of Requirement. Since the first day of his eighth year at Hogwarts, this room had become his favorite place to disappear after all his school responsibilities were done.
Because only here, in front of this mirror, could he see his reflection — Only here… could he see her.
Draco gently pulled back the black curtain that covered the mirror. He closed his eyes for a moment, then slowly opened them.
And smiled.
He saw himself. And he saw her.
“Hey,” he said softly to the reflection of the girl inside the mirror.
Of course, she didn’t answer. She only smiled back at him, her hand tightly holding his.
Draco’s smile widened at the sight — his reflection and hers, hand in hand.
He looked down at his own real hand, still empty. A silent reminder that it was just a reflection.
But he didn’t care. This was why he came here.
“How are you?” he asked. A stupid question, really.
The girl in the mirror simply smiled at him again.
“I’m exhausted,” he admitted. "Merlin, this year is going to drive me insane. There’s N.E.W.Ts, Quidditch, Prefect duties… Yeah. Can you believe it? Fuckin' Potter made me a prefect. Said it was part of my ‘redemption.’ What an fuckin' idiot. If he really wanted redemption, he should’ve just let me rot in Azkaban instead of saving my arse at the trial."
Draco let out a tired sigh. “Well, I couldn’t exactly say no, could I?” He shook his head. “Anyway—Quidditch. Don’t get me started. At this point, I really want to murder Zabini. You know I was born to be a Seeker, right? I’m bloody brilliant at it! But no, that bastard used his ‘power’ as captain to switch me to a fuckin' Beater. Said it ‘fits me better.’ Merlin, what a prick.”
He paused, chuckled a little. “Anyway, we’ve got a match tomorrow…”
Draco kept talking. And the girl in the mirror kept smiling, listening.
This had become a ritual. Every night, after everyone else had gone to sleep, Draco would come here.
To this room.
To this mirror.
To her.
To the reflection of the girl he loved more than anything. Even if she was only a memory.
“....And today, some idiot invited me to join his ridiculous club,” Draco said with a scoff. “I was like, ‘Not a chance.’ I mean, who would even want to join that? A first-year could tell how stupid it is. Besides, I need to focus on my N.E.W.Ts. I know I’ll get ‘Outstanding'," He said with a confident. "but I’m still struggling with Charms.”
He was now sitting on the floor, hugging his knees. In the mirror, her reflection mirrored him — head resting gently on his shoulder, her arm looped around his.
Draco chuckled softly. “You used to help me with Charms, and I used to help you with Potions. Now, I’m doing everything on my own. I thought Theo could help, but he’s just as bad as I am.” He looked down.
“I wish you were here.” He took a shaky breath.
“I really wish you were here… I miss you. Merlin, I miss you so much, Hermione.”
A single tear rolled down his cheek.
He wiped it away roughly, trying to shake it off. “Sorry. I’m being dramatic again.” He forced a bitter smile. “I just… I miss you so much it’s driving me crazy.”
In the mirror, Hermione’s reflection tightened her grip around Draco’s arm, like she didn’t want to let go.
“I know,” he whispered. “I’m not going anywhere.”
They smiled at each other through the glass.
"I’m sorry, Hermione. Every day of my life.” Draco whispered again.
Then, he felt a hand on his shoulder.
Startled, he turned — and saw Blaise standing next to him, looking concerned.
“Let’s go back to the dorm,” Blaise said softly. “I brought you some food.”
"I’m fine,” Draco replied, not looking at him.
Blaise crouched down in front of him.
“Move, Blaise. You’re blocking my view.”
“Do you see her?” Blaise asked gently.
“What the fuck do you think I’m doing here?” Draco muttered. “Move, Zabini.”
Blaise sighed deeply. “Enough, Draco. Come on. Let’s go.” He reached for Draco’s arm, but Draco jerked away.
“You’ve been here for hours!” Blaise said.
“What time is it?”
“Almost midnight.”
"Shit.”
"Yeah. Shit. Now let’s go!” Blaise tried again, but Draco slapped his hand away.
“No.”
"Salazar help me,” Blaise muttered. “Mate, please. Don’t do this to yourself.”
"I can’t go, Blaise. I don’t want to. She wants me to stay.”
“There’s no 'her', Draco. It’s just a reflection. It’s not real.”
"I’m not going anywhere.”
“She’s gone, Draco!” Blaise said, frustrated.
“Fuck you, Blaise! Move!"
“Draco, please. You need rest. You need food. Look at yourself!"
Draco was visibly shaking now, holding back the urge to lash out.
“You’re pathetic,” Blaise muttered.
"Call me whatever you want.”
“I wonder what Granger would think if she saw you like this.”
Draco’s head snapped up. “You don’t know her. Shut your mouth.”
“No, I didn’t know her the way you did.” Blaise replied. “But I know one thing — she wouldn’t want this. She wouldn’t want to see you like this. Broken. Messed up. She would’ve hated it.”
Draco lowered his head. He couldn’t argue. Blaise was right. She wouldn’t like seeing him like this.
“I miss her,” Draco whispered.
“I know.”
“I miss her so much.”
“I know, mate. But she’s in a better place now.”
“It should’ve been me. It was my fault. I couldn’t save her. I—I…” Draco couldn’t finish. The tears came again, and this time, he didn’t try to stop them.
“Draco.” Blaise placed a hand on his shoulder again. “Let her rest in peace. You have to let her go. She would want you to live, not do this to yourself. She wanted you to be happy.”
“I don’t know if I ever can be…”
“You can,” Blaise interrupted. “You’ve got me. You’ve got all of us.”
Draco didn’t respond.
Blaise stood again and tried one more time, reaching for Draco’s arm. “Come on. Let’s go.”
This time, Draco stopped him, gently holding his wrist. “Give me five more minutes.”
“Draco…”
“Just five minutes. I’ll meet you outside.”
Blaise hesitated, then nodded. “Fine. Five minutes.”
He turned and left, leaving Draco alone in the room once more.
Draco stayed for a few more moments, staring at the reflection of himself and Hermione smiling at each other — happy, like nothing had ever gone wrong.
“I have to go,” he said, standing up and brushing himself off.
“Wish me luck for tomorrow’s match, alright?” He laughed weakly. “I’ll try, Hermione. For you.”
He looked into her eyes one last time.
“I love you. Always.”
Then, he pulled the black curtain closed over the mirror and slowly walked out of the Room of Requirement