Half Blood Royalty

Wailing Ghosts and Secret Diaries

For several weeks after the incident in the bathroom with the Polyjuice Potion mistake, Hermione remained in the hospital wing. There had been flurries of rumors circulating around school about her disappearance going around once everyone came back after their Christmas holidays, because, of course, everyone had just assumed she had been attacked. Many students did try to find a way into the hospital wing to try and catch a glimpse of her that Madam Pomfrey took out her curtains and placed them all around Hermione's bed, to spare her the shame of being seen with a furry face. Harry, Ron, and I all would go and visit her every evening. Once the new term began, the boys began bringing her the homework she had missed that day.

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

"Don't be silly, Ron. I've got to keep up." Hermione answered. Her spirits had greatly improved by the fact that all the hair had gone from her face and her eyes were slowly turning back into brown. "I don't suppose you've got any new leads?" She added in a whisper so that Madam Pomfrey couldn't hear.

"Nothing." Harry answered gloomily.

"I was so sure it was Malfoy." Ron stated.

"Told you it wasn't." I told him, for the hundredth time. Was feeling proud of myself for being right, not gonna lie. My eyes fell onto something gold sticking out from under Hermione's pillow, "What's that?"

"Just a Get-Well Card," Hermione said 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 give times winner of Witch Weekly's Most-Charming-Smile Award."

"Nice signature," I let off a quiet laugh, "Who needs to sign only their name, anyway?"

Ron looked up at Hermione, disgusted, "You sleep with this under your pillow?"

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

**

"Is Lockhart the smarmiest bloke you've ever met, or what?" Ron said as we left the Wing and headed on down the hall. They were heading towards Gryffindor Tower, in the opposite direction than I needed to go for the Dungeons, but what's my father going to do? I'm already going to be getting in quite late, anyway. An angry outburst came out from the floor above flooded our ears.

"Filch." I whispered to both Harry and Ron, as we hurried up the stairs and paused, out of sight, listening hard.

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

We stood still, our heads inclined towards 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 just before we heard a distant door slam. We poked our heads around the corner. Filch had clearly been manning his usual lookout post. We had, once again, been at the spot where Mrs. Norris had been attacked... again, when we shouldn't be.

I tapped Harry's shoulder, whispering, "That's what he had to have been shouting about." A great flood of water had been stretched over half the corridor, and it looked as though it was still seeping under the door of Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. Now that Filch had stopped shouting, we could hear Myrtle's wails echoing off the bathroom walls.