The Mirror and the Mystery

Gigantic and smothering hugs go to SW69 for the beta read.

Dislaimer: I'm so not coming up with a clever disclaimer. You all know the drill anyway....

Hermione didn't get much sleep in the hours after she thanked Draco Malfoy for saving her life. She'd done it because she'd known it was the right thing to do. More than that, she'd done it because she knew she'd never have a clear conscience if she left it alone. A load of good it was doing her now though... She punched her pillow in an effort to make it comfortable for her head, but it was no use.

She drifted in and out of consciousness for hours, never quite able to organize herself into sleep. At 6:30 her alarm went off, and she dragged herself out of bed. The sheets were twisted everywhere, and most of her pillows were on the floor. She grabbed her wand off her nightstand and made the bed with a muttered, "Emendo."

She could see the early stages of morning through the window. Birds were twittering; blue light glowed on the tops of the mountains. On any other morning, Hermione might have noticed how beautiful it was. She wandered into the bathroom and turned the shower on.

A pang of annoyance struck her as she locked her side of Malfoy's door, but she ignored it.

It never took Hermione long to shower...she wasn't the type to fritter away time doing needless things...but today, Hermione stood under the hot water for a long time, letting the water warm her and awaken her exhausted mind and body.

When she stepped out, she stood in front of the large mirror and stared at herself, something she hadn't done in a long time. She'd never really liked mirrors to begin with, but more importantly, she'd never had time for them. But today was different.

She felt as though she barely knew her own reflection. Her appearance was the same as always on the outside. The same long mess of dark hair. The same brown eyes and slightly too pale skin. But today, she looked closer.

She felt uncomfortable looking at her naked body this way. It was as though the things that were picking at her on the inside were apparent on her skin, picking at her there as well.

She wanted to look away, and she told herself it was silly to go on standing there staring at herself, but still, she couldn't tear her eyes away. If she stopped, if she walked away, it would mean her reflection had won, so she stayed put, determined to prove... something. She walked closer and stared hard at her own face. The bridge of her nose was covered with a spare smattering of light freckles that she'd noticed before but had never thought much about. Now, for the first time in her life, she found herself forming an opinion about them: she hated them. They were an outward manifestation of the imperfection she felt inside.

She felt unsure inside, and she could see that she looked as lost as she felt. Maybe it was just a bad morning, but she'd always prided herself on being calm and in control. She'd always been independent and had thought of herself as the kind of person who could take care of anything on her own. Last night had proven that none of these things were true, and looking at her reflection now, she'd never been more aware that she wasn't perfect. She told herself that nobody could be perfect and that it was all right that she wasn't, but that didn't make her clenching stomach relax. She wasn't perfect, and as ridiculous as she knew it was, that bothered her just a bit.

She frowned at herself, and then finally, the mirror won. She lowered her eyes, turned around, picked her clothes up off the floor and walked out of the bathroom without a backward glance.

* * *

Draco hadn't slept all night. After Hermione had gone into her room, Draco had closed his door and cast a spell to light the room. He was still fully clothed from the day before. His pants and hands were stained with Hermione Granger's blood, and he felt dirty. Dirty for having her blood all over him and even dirtier for what it meant, that he had saved her. He had willingly...no, worriedly...carried her body to the hospital wing.

If Lucius could see me now... he thought bitterly.

He stripped down to nothing, wanting his disgrace to vanish with his clothes. He flicked his wand to put out the light and got into bed again, sliding his wand onto his nightstand and scrunching a pillow up to stuff under his head. But he was far from sleep. He watched the moon's progression as it arched through the sky until it was gone behind the mountain, and Draco was left only with his thoughts.

At about half past six, he heard the running water in the bathroom, and he turned onto his back to stare up at the ceiling. He briefly thought that it was odd that he could hear her...Draco always put a Silencing Charm on the room while he was in there. When he heard the shower door open and close nearly twenty-five minutes later, he wondered why she hadn't done the same.

It didn't matter though. In a few moments, she would be gone, and he could take her place. He waited for several minutes to hear her leave, stretching and preparing himself to get out of bed, but she didn't. He knew he would have heard her door if she'd gone. Maybe she had and he just hadn't noticed. He sat on the edge of his bed for several minutes, waiting for a sound. When none came, his irritation grew. Just as he was getting to his feet to demand she leave, he heard the distinct sound of her door opening and closing.

Finally...

He waited a few seconds just to be safe and then went to the door. His first attempt to open it was unsuccessful, and he realized she must have left it locked...probably on purpose, the bitch. "Typical," he grumbled as he retrieved his wand from his nightstand. An unlocking spell made short work of the door, and minutes later, as almost scalding water poured down Draco's back, he shut his eyes tightly and thought, The day can only go uphill from here...

But he wasn't allowed much time for relaxation. Granger had said that Dumbledore wanted to see them before breakfast, and that didn't leave him time for more than the bare necessities.

If Granger hadn't spent forty-five bleeding minutes in the bathroom... Girls.

Draco dressed himself distractedly, his mind on the events of the night before. Aside from the confusion he felt surrounding his own behavior, none of it made sense. Why would anyone want to kill Granger? All right, bad question...

Why would anyone want to shoot Granger... with a gun? Why not use a wand? And why had they missed? Really, he knew better than anyone how annoying she was, but who had she ticked off enough to want her dead? The whole thing was mad. Maybe Dumbledore would have an explanation...

With that thought to encourage him, Draco sped himself up. In a few short minutes, he was presentable and heading down to Dumbledore's office.

He arrived at the Headmaster's gargoyle and uttered the password: Snickers. Whatever that was... A knock on the door, and he heard Dumbledore's voice bid him to enter. He expected to find Hermione already there with an annoyingly impatient expression on her face...he could picture it now...but she wasn't. There were two chairs in front of Dumbledore's desk, and both were empty until the old man motioned for Draco to sit in one of them and he obeyed.

"Where is Miss Gra...?"

"I don't know," Draco said shortly. He wasn't the Mudblood's keeper.

"I see..." said Dumbledore. "Well, I'm certain she's on her way. Our Head Girl isn't one to keep others waiting, is she?"

Draco grunted in response, the morning's events still fresh in his mind. For several minutes, he occupied himself by glancing around at the various gadgets that the Headmaster had collected, but that only kept him occupied for so long. After a little while, he became aware of the fact that he was alone in a room with a man he had never exactly... seen eye to eye with. And neither of them had said a word. He stretched, coughed, scratched his hairline, and after several more minutes, he couldn't remember having ever felt so supremely uncomfortable.

He coughed again at the same time that Dumbledore said, "While we're waiting, Draco, I would like to address the issue of..."

A quiet knock on the door announced Hermione's arrival.

"Ah. Well, we can address that issue later, I think."

If it was possible, Draco began to feel even more supremely uncomfortable. He hadn't exactly thought ahead to this moment, but now that it was here, he found he had no idea what to say to Granger, how to act. She was the cause of all his current turmoil, and he couldn't think of anyone he'd rather be trapped in a room with less. But it was too late for that now... Dumbledore crossed the room to let the Head Girl in, and Draco suddenly didn't know what to do with his hands. His neck felt itchy, and he grimaced uncomfortably as he reached up to scratch it, tilting his head down and his eyes up.

Within moments, Hermione was walking across the room. Her face was expressionless as she sat down in the chair next to Draco, never so much as glancing at him. Draco realized he was staring at her, and that wouldn't do. He moved his gaze away quickly, but he couldn't help scowling; she was avoiding him, ignoring him, refusing to acknowledge his presence. Well, two could play that game. If that was the way it was going to be, it was fine with him. He relaxed his body and sat up straight, matching her aloof manner. To think he had let her get to him. To think he had been so obvious about it... It was not behavior befitting a Malfoy.

"Miss Granger, how do you find yourself today, considering last night's events?" asked Dumbledore.

"I'm fine," said Hermione in the same toneless voice that he'd heard her use once before...when McGonagall had asked her if she was all right and she'd responded with the same two words.

Judging by the near-hour she'd spent in the bathroom and the careful emptiness of her voice, she wasn't fine, but Draco wasn't about to push the issue. Dumbledore would have had to be blind and deaf not to reach the same conclusion, and Draco was sure he was going to make some pleasantly disarming comment and push the issue, but he only smiled and nodded.

Draco expected this was more out of respect for Hermione's dignity...an admirable sentiment, he thought...than any ignorance to the obvious. Draco kept silent because he was of the opinion that if she wanted to be miserable, he certainly wasn't going to talk her out of it.

A thought occurred to him then: she'd said 'thank you.' But... no, that wasn't enough to make any of this right. It almost made it worse. It was like rubbing in his face the fact that he'd betrayed himself. Well, Granger could fret about it. It would do her some good. Know-it-all bitty...

"I'm pleased to hear you haven't suffered any lasting damage then," said Dumbledore kindly.

* * *

Let's not go that far... thought Hermione bitterly. The bullet wound may have disappeared without a trace, but the damage, the real damage, was irreparable. She owed Draco a debt. And as much as she wanted for it to be, the simple 'thank you' she'd offered last night just wasn't going to cut it. There was no way around it. She owed Draco Malfoy her life, and that was a truly frightening thought.

She didn't know what to say or do now. She hadn't asked to be shot, and she hadn't asked Malfoy for help. She didn't know why he'd chosen to help her, and she wasn't sure she really wanted to know. But she did want to know who'd attacked her and why. She assumed that Dumbledore had called her here to tell her something about it. Though why he'd invited Malfoy...

"Miss Granger, have any other details come to you since we last spoke about the matter?" Dumbledore asked.

"No, Professor," she answered.

"Forgive an old man's impertinence, but I must ask you to recount everything that you remember, from leaving the Great Hall to waking up in the Hospital Wing, just one more time."

Hermione was silent for a long moment. If she recounted everything, that would include everything that had happened with Malfoy. Hermione wasn't particularly keen on reliving that scene, but she knew she couldn't lie to Dumbledore nor leave anything out when he'd specifically asked her for every detail.

She sighed deeply through her nose, her lips pursed tightly, then began.

* * *

Draco's interest was roused in spite of himself when Dumbledore asked Hermione to give an account of what had happened to her, as he was not even sure of the details. He tilted his head toward her enough so that he could see her when she spoke but still maintain a safe appearance of disinterest.

"I left the Great Hall and was walking to my room," she began. "I was almost there...in the corridor outside my common room..."

Draco eyes narrowed ever so slightly at her singularly possessive reference to their common room, but he continued to listen without interrupting.

"I heard voices around a corner nearby...whispers and... footsteps, I think. I didn't think much of it because it wasn't curfew yet. And I was thinking about my homework."

Draco snorted at this and received a brief glare from Hermione, but it was gone as quickly as it had been there, and she went on with her account as if she'd never noticed him.

"Then I felt the pain in my leg." She paused, as though not sure what to say next.

"Please, go on," said Dumbledore, removing his fingers from his chin in an encouraging gesture.

"I looked down and realized I was bleeding, and... well, it happened so fast...I'm still confused, Professor."

"I should imagine so," he said softly, and she took a deep breath. When she spoke again, her voice was steady.

"Then I walked into the common room..."

Draco rolled his eyes. Fell, more like.

"And I tripped on the carpet."

Collapsed in agony, Granger. Don't pretty it up.

"Then Malfoy..."

Draco stared at the floor again.

"...said something, I think."

Yes, I tried to help you, and you told me not to touch you.

"I went into the bathroom because I wanted to get a closer look at my leg."

You forgot to mention how you slammed the door in my face....

"I was bleeding pretty heavily by then. I was rather dizzy, and I don't think I got very far with trying to inspect the wound. I don't really remember."

No, you were pretty busy screaming.

"Then Malfoy came into the bathroom and... helped me."

She sounded bewildered by the very thought of it, as though realizing it for the first time, and she turned her wide eyes to Draco.

His neck was itching again.

"I think the bleeding got worse after that...."

Very astute of you, genius.

"That's really all I remember," she said quietly. "I think I blacked out, and then... I woke up in the hospital wing."

"Thank you, Hermione. That was helpful," said Dumbledore with a smile.

Draco snorted again, but this time, Hermione didn't appear to notice. Helpful? I figured that much out on my own.

"Mr. Malfoy, would you care to pick up where she left off? I'm assuming of course that you remember what happened after Miss Granger lost consciousness."

You assume correctly, Draco thought with an inward sneer.

"Er, yes," he said, clearing his throat a little. "Miss Granger lost consciousness, and I escorted her to the hospital wing."

You carried her, a nagging little voice reminded him. She bled all over you, and you carried her anyway, remember?

"That's all."

This was pointless in Draco's opinion. They were getting nowhere. None of this was new information. It was very obvious to everyone involved what had happened after Granger had fainted. Draco had the feeling that Dumbledore knew all this and was deliberately making him and Granger state the obvious in front of each other for some twisted reason. He couldn't help the sudden desire to find the nearest sharp object and jab it into Dumbledore's maddening blue eyes.

"Thank you," said the old man, smiling ridiculously again. "Now I must pose a few questions, first to you, Hermione"

Hermione nodded.

"Do you remember if the voices you heard were male or female?"

Hermione bit her lip for a moment, then said, "No, I suppose I wasn't, er... paying attention." She flushed pink and Draco snorted. She glared at him again and crossed her arms defensively. "Well, it's not as if I could have known anyway. I've said already I only heard whispers."

Draco smirked back at her just for the pleasure of seeing her jaw tighten.

"Naturally," said Dumbledore, ignoring the tension between the two students completely as he turned his attention to Draco again. "And did you notice anything out of the ordinary as you escorted your partner to the hospital wing?"

Partner? Let's not say things we can't take back....

"Did you notice any other people on your way? Was there anything odd, anything that seemed out of the ordinary?"

Draco frowned and replayed the scene in his mind, looking for some detail that might shed some light on the situation, and he resolutely ignored the voice that told him he had been too focused on Granger to notice anything else.

"No, Headmaster," he said quietly. "I don't recall seeing anything strange." His frustration was turning rapidly into irritation. This was pointless and a complete waste of time. He had better things to do than sit here and take turns filling the silence with meaningless words. He had made the decision to get to his feet and make his excuses when Dumbledore spoke again.

"Very well," the man said in a tone of finality. "Then I must share with you both what I can."

He had both students' undivided attention.

"I'm afraid I know nothing more about the circumstances surrounding the attack than you do..."

Figures, Draco thought and shifted again to get to his feet.

"But there is one thing I can give you that will help."

"Help us?" Draco said blankly, now halfway between sitting and standing. He sat back in his chair again and raised an eyebrow. "With what?"

Dumbledore reached down, pulled an item out of a drawer and placed it on his desk in front of Hermione and Draco, then clasped his hands together in his lap. They were staring at a small, silver bullet.

Hermione gave a small shiver, and Draco wasn't surprised, as the thing had been lodged in her leg only hours before. He watched her stare fixedly at it for a long moment, then look up at Dumbledore.

"I thought it had been dissolved."

"No, Miss Granger, as you can see, it is quite intact."

"Professor," she began with a confused frown, "I don't want to seem impolite, but how does this help us?"

Draco was wondering the same thing himself.

Dumbledore smiled and said, "I'm glad you asked. You'll be happy to know that I spent a good while speaking to Arthur Weasley on this very matter last night, as it falls under his exact area of expertise. This is a Muggle weapon, Miss Granger, as I'm sure you are both aware. Muggle weapons, much like curses, can leave traces of themselves when used improperly." Hermione nodded, and Dumbledore continued. "And even often when used properly. In this case, when this bullet was fired from the gun that was used, it was imprinted with the gun's signature, so to speak."

When Hermione and Draco continued to stare blankly, Dumbledore went on.

"Let me be more specific. According to Arthur, when a bullet travels through the barrel of a gun, it receives an imprint of the barrel itself. In other words, the shell is marked on the outside by the inside of whatever it traveled through."

"Oh!" gasped Hermione, her eyes wide as comprehension dawned. Draco understood as well but remained silent; rather he leaned closer and inspected the bullet with narrowed eyes.

"Quite," Dumbledore said, nodding. "Arthur informed me that typically, when a bullet is fired, it would receive spiral markings from the barrel of the gun..."

"But how does..."

"I'm getting to that. Look closely at the bullet," he said, pushing it to the front of his desk.

Hermione and Draco leaned forward eagerly, not even noticing how close they were to each other, and after a long moment, Hermione gasped.

"There's nothing there!"

"Exactly," said Dumbledore. "Clearly, this was fired from an unusual gun. Whether it has been magically tampered with has yet to be determined, but the fact that it escaped the barrel with no spiral marking makes it easier for us to narrow down the possible weapons used."

Draco glanced at Hermione as she stared at the piece of silver.

"There's more. Look at the bullet again."

This time Hermione and Draco knocked heads painfully as they leaned forward.

"Ouch!" yelped Hermione, messaging the lump forming on her head and scowling at Draco.

"Damn it, Granger, watch where your head is!" Draco snarled, massaging his own head in a similar fashion.

"Watch where my head is? You are such a..."

Dumbledore cleared his throat loudly.

"Sorry, Professor," mumbled Hermione.

Draco grumbled something incomprehensible, which was actually a combination of, "I'm sorry, too," and, "You should be."

"Quite all right. It's natural to forget oneself on occasion, of course. Now, look again."

This time Draco was more careful as he leaned forward to inspect the bullet. He squinted his eyes as he searched for whatever Dumbledore was speaking of. Something caught his eye, and he reached forward before realizing what he was doing. "May I?"

"Of course."

He held the thing up in front of his eyes. "C.E.S.," he said, perplexed.

"Initials," muttered Hermione, sounding equally baffled. "But who...?"

"Wait," said Draco. "You said that there should be spiral markings on the bullet. Why would there be initials, but no markings?"

"That, Mr. Malfoy, is what I would like Miss Granger to find out."

"What!" their two voices shouted together.

"Me? How would I..."

"Her? She can't even..."

Dumbledore held up his hand, and both students fell silent. "Hermione, I would like you to leave Hogwarts for a little while."

"What? But..."

"Please, allow me to explain. I would like you to leave school for a little while...partly for reasons of safety and partly because I think there is no person better than you to get to the bottom of this mystery. There is nothing more here at Hogwarts that will help you solve it, but in the Muggle world, not only will you be more safe, but you will have resources at your disposal that you would not have here."

"The library has..."

"...hundreds of books that would explain almost any magical problem, but this is not so much a magical problem as a Muggle problem that may or may not involve magic."

"Professor, I don't understand how you can say I would be safer outside of Hogwarts. There is no place safer than this school. Everyone knows that!"

"Normally I would agree with you, Miss Granger, but there is something strange going on here, and until we apprehend the person or persons behind your attack, I do not believe you are as safe here as you would be elsewhere. Whoever attacked you may do so again. And as I said before, I believe you are the best person to investigate what has happened."

"But...but..." she stuttered desperately. "I wouldn't even know where to start, Professor! And I don't understand...why me? Surely someone else..."

"Because this is happening to you, Hermione, not someone else. You are of age now, and you are more than capable, my dear."

Draco got the feeling there was more to Dumbledore's reasoning than he was saying. "Professor," Draco said, knowing it would be wise to keep silent, but unable to stop himself, "how can she possibly figure it out on her own? She may be an annoying know-it-all, but she's just a student." Besides, sending her away from the wizarding world seemed a little drastic, even to Draco. Not that the idea didn't have merit...

"She won't be on her own," said Dumbledore.

Draco waited for the other shoe to drop... and it did.

"I want you to go with her, Mr. Malfoy."

"WHAT?" Draco and Hermione shouted together in equally outraged voices. They turned and glared at each other for a brief moment before turning back to glare at Dumbledore.

Hermione recovered first. "Professor, I don't know why you are asking me to do this. It's... Well, I don't know why, but I can do it by myself. I don't need his help."

Draco snorted and Hermione glowered at him.

"You are a magnificently brilliant individual, Hermione, and your talent as a witch is unmatched, but even the best of us need help sometimes."

Draco rolled his eyes. He knew that Dumbledore was right, and he knew that Hermione would probably need help, but he was at a loss as to why it had to be him that gave it.

Hermione apparently had the same idea. "Why him?" she demanded at the same time that he spat, "Why me?"

"I'm afraid I can't give you my reasons, Mr. Malfoy. I must ask you to trust me."

Draco glared.

"But I'm Head Girl," Hermione almost pleaded. "I can't just leave."

"Oh, not to worry," Dumbledore said brightly. "I don't think you will be gone more than a few weeks, if that. I trust in your intelligence. In the meanwhile, there are more than enough Prefects to take over your duties."

Draco was screaming inside, but his pride stopped him from pitching a fit. Sharing a dorm was one thing, but leaving school and traveling together, working on a mystery together, that was just too much to ask. The whole thing had Draco feeling queasy. He considered refusing point-blank to go, but somehow he knew that wasn't an option.

Hermione must have known it, too. "What do you want us to do?" she said in a resigned voice.

Draco looked at her and found the stubborn set to her jaw that he had come to associate with her. He scowled yet again.

"I will leave that up to you," Dumbledore said, "though I will say that home is never a bad place to start. Now, I want the two of you to go back to your quarters and discuss where you will go from here."

Hermione nodded slowly, and Draco shook his head, rolling his eyes and glaring at the ceiling.

You've got to be kidding me....

"Fine," he said shortly. He stood up quickly and walked out of Dumbledore's office without another word. He'd do it. He'd play by the rules... for now. After all, a Malfoy knew when to fight and when to be calm and wait to see how a situation could be used to his advantage; however, there were a few things he would make perfectly clear to Granger first.

He stalked back to the common room and flung himself into his armchair to wait for the Head Girl.

* * *

Hermione was still in shock at what was being asked of her, but she was doing her best to trust the Headmaster. As she stood to leave the office, she turned to Dumbledore and said, "Professor, I know there's something you're not telling me. Please... If you could just give me some advice, anything."

Dumbledore sighed and said, "I have told you everything that I believe will help you. I know it isn't much, but... you are a truly remarkable young woman. I wouldn't give you a task that I didn't think you capable of taking on. As I said before, I think you should go home first. Your parents are Muggles, and to have raised a person such as yourself, I'm sure they must be very wise. They may be able to help you along."

Hermione nodded wordlessly and tried to smile. Then another though occurred to her, and she spoke quickly. "Can I tell my friends what's happened and where I'm going?"

"I will also leave that to you. You may tell your friends whatever you trust them to know."

Hermione nodded again. "Thank you, Professor, for your help."

"You're welcome, Miss Granger. Good luck."