Love at First Sight (Harry Potter)

The Very Secret Diary

|ALEXANDRIA WEASLEY'S P.O.V|

Unfortunately, Hermione had to spend multiple weeks in the Hospital Wing after the Polyjuice Potion. Madam Pomfrey was working very hard to help her, but didn't quite know all the details as we refused to tell her what had truly happened.

Rumours about how Hermione ended up in the Wing spread throughout the school like wildfire when people returned; many students supposed that Harry, the Heir of Slytherin, had gone to such lengths to attack his apparent friend. People would crowd into the Wing, trying to catch a glimpse of Hermione — who, still having cat ears and a tail, wanted nothing more than to be hidden. Madam Pomfrey did just that: she pulled the curtains around Hermione's bed tight, shooing away any and almost all of who entered through the Wing doors.

Harry, Ron, and I went to visit her every evening. She was very upset to have missed the start of term, worried that she would fall behind in her lessons. And so, I tried to take more detailed notes than usual, aiming for how I knew she would take them herself. I even managed to, for first time ever, try in History of Magic because she always would. Ron and Harry wanted to help but, the second Professor Binns has begun speaking, the two fell asleep at their desks.

"If I'd sprouted whiskers, I'd take a break from work," said Ron as I tipped a stack of books onto Hermione's bedside table one evening.

I rolled my eyes, fidgeting through my bag for a new bottle of ink to replace the one that Hermione had run through during her time in the Hospital. "Ron, you don't do work as it is."

"I've got to keep up," said Hermione briskly, looking around the Wing carefully. In a whisper, she then added, "I don't suppose you've got any new leads?"

"Nothing," said Harry gloomily from where he was sat on the end of her bed.

"I was so sure it was Malfoy," said Ron, defeat in his voice.

I wanted to say that I had known it wasn't, but a part of me regretted ever defending the Malfoy. I felt defeated, as though I had been grasping for straws in the dark.

Perhaps everyone was right, he was simply evil.

"What's that?" asked Harry, pointing to something gold that was sticking out from beneath Hermione's pillow.

"Just a get well card," said Hermione hastily, jumping around on the bed to try to shove the card out of sight. I leaned out of the way when Ron suddenly dove to grab it; he pulled it out, flicked it open, and read:

"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."

Ron looked up at Hermione, completely disgusted. He is my twin brother, and so I was able to detect a tiny bit of anger in his eyes — hidden away very deep.

"You sleep with this under your pillow?"

Before Hermione could answer, Madam Pomfrey swept over with her evening dose of medicine.

"Is Lockhart the smarmiest bloke you've ever met, or what?" exclaimed Ron, the moment the doors to the Hospital Wing had closed behind him, Harry, and I.

Harry and I glanced at one another, knowingly, but neither of us said a word. The three of us began to climb the stairs toward Gryffindor Tower. Halfway up, an angry outburst echoed against the stone walls on the floor above us.

"That's Filch," muttered Harry. He gestured for us to hurry up the staircase; Ron and I followed the Potter into the shadows at the top of the corridor, where we tried to listen hard.