the ring︱harry potter x (fem.) reader

cøs: i found

~ amber run

Another update... I'm getting good at this.

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Third Person POV

Hermione remained in the hospital wing for several weeks. There was a flurry of rumors 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.

Harry, (Y/N), and Ron went to visit her every evening. When the new term started, they 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, this evening, (Y/N) said she was too busy doing Snape's homework, that she couldn't join them, but she told the two to get Hermione her best wishes.

"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.

"Nothing," said Harry.

"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.

"Under your pillow?" (Y/N) questioned, as Ron pulled the card 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."

"You sleep with this under your pillow?" said Ron, who was looking at Hermione with disgust.

Hermione was spared from answering by Madam Pomfrey sweeping over, with her evening dose of medicine.

"Is Lockhart the smartest bloke you've ever met, or what?" said Ron to Harry as they left the infirmary and started up the stairs toward Gryffindor Tower.

Snape was nervous to get started on his homework from Snape, he had given them so much homework that Harry thought he was likely to be in sixth year before he finished it. 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 they hurried up the stairs and paused, out of sight, listening hard.

"You don't think someone else's been attacked?" said Ron tensely.

They stood still, their heads inclined toward Filch'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 they heard a distant door slam.

They poked their heads around the corner. Filch had clearly been manning his usual lookout post: They were once again on the spot where Mrs. Norris had been attacked. They saw at a glance what Filch had been shouting at. A great flood of water stretched from under the door of Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. Now that Filch had stopped shouting, they could hear Myrtle's wails echoing off the bathroom walls.