Hermione remained in the hospital wing for several weeks. There was a flurry of rumor about her disappearance when the rest of the school arrived back from their Christmas holidays, because of course everyone thought that she had been attacked.
So many students filed past the hospital wing trying to catch a glimpse of her that Madam Pomfrey took out her curtains again and placed them around Hermione's bed, to spare her the shame of being seen with a furry face.
Almost every night during this time I had awoken lying in the bathroom floor with the diary next to me, and I was starting to get sick of it.
I had a strange feeling that there was something dark about this book, and finally I decided I had had enough. Pushing open the door to moaning Myrtle's bathroom I chucked it in as hard as I could before sprinting back to the dungeons.
And yet I had this horrid feeling. I felt as though I had thrown away a part of me, I still felt so strongly attached to the diary. It was starting to worry me.
...
Harry, Ron, and I went to visit Hermione every evening, and when the new term started, we brought her each day's homework.
"If I'd sprouted whiskers, I'd take a break from work," said Ron, tipping a stack of books onto Hermione's bedside table one evening.
"Don't be silly, Ron, I've got to keep up," said Hermione briskly. Her spirits were greatly improved by the fact that all the hair had gone from her face and her eyes were turning slowly back to brown.
"I don't suppose you've got any new leads?" she added in a whisper, so that Madam Pomfrey couldn't hear her.
"Nothing," said Harry gloomily.
"I was so sure it was Malfoy," said Ron, for about the hundredth time.
"What's that?" asked Harry, pointing to something gold sticking out from under Hermione's pillow.
"Just a get well card," said Hermione hastily, trying to poke it out of sight, but Ron was too quick for her. He pulled it out, flicked it open, and read aloud:
"To Miss Granger, wishing you a speedy recovery, from your concerned teacher, Professor Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin, Third Class, Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defense League, and five-time winner of Witch Weekly's Most Charming Smile Award."
"Oh my god he even has to brag about himself in a get well soon card." I said in disgust.
"You sleep with this under your pillow?" Ron said.
But Hermione was spared answering by Madam Pomfrey sweeping over with her evening dose of medicine.
"Is Lockhart the smarmiest bloke you've ever met, or what?" Ron said to Harry as we left the infirmary and started up the stairs toward Gryffindor Tower.
Snape had given us so much homework, I wasn't sure how I was going to finish it all. Ron was just saying he wished he had asked Hermione how many rat tails you were supposed to add to a Hair Raising Potion when an angry outburst from the floor above reached their ears.
"That's Filch," Harry muttered as we hurried up the stairs and paused, out of sight, listening hard.
"You don't think someone else's been attacked?" said Ron tensely.
We stood still, our heads inclined toward Flich's voice, which sounded quite hysterical.
"Even more work for me! Mopping all night, like I haven't got enough to do! No, this is the final straw, I'm going to Dumbledore —"
His footsteps receded along the out-of-sight corridor and we heard a distant door slam.
We poked their heads around the corner. Filch had clearly been manning his usual lookout post: we were once again on the spot where Mrs. Norris had been attacked.
YOU ARE READING
The Weasley of Slytherin: The Chamber of Secrets
Fanfiction(Y/n) Weasley. The only of the Weasley children to be sorted into Slytherin. After a break full of mischief with his brothers he is returning to Hogwarts for his second year, although what awaits him is beyond his imagination.
