Hermione Granger and the Displaced Sorting

Chapter 19

Hermione Granger and the Displaced Sorting

Harry Potter Fanfiction

Chapter 19

A/N: This is going to be a running author's note, but if you read on fanfiction and enjoy this story, I post on AO3 and Wattpad as well under the same name and try to reply to all comments on there if I'm able 😊Also if you like my writing, check out miasmantz(dot)com

New A/N: Oh, it's been a long time. I'm sorry! In a perfect world, I would be able to do nothing but read, write, and travel, but ALAS. We're here. Aaaanyway, I hope you enjoy.

Monday, October 19th, 1992

Hermione groaned, collapsing back against her pillow. She sighed. She huffed, biting her lip when it wanted to purse into a pout. "Madam Pomfrey?"

From the other room, footsteps approached. "Miss Granger, I've already said that you aren't well enough to return to classes today. You only just regained consciousness."

"But—"

"Miss Granger," she intoned in a dangerously low voice. "Dinner will be soon. Perhaps you should rest. If it's anything like the last few days have been, you'll have a steady stream of visitors to keep you company shortly."

Hermione wilted beneath the cross matron's stare. "Yes, Madam Pomfrey."

Pomfrey gave a huffed nod in satisfaction before returning to her duties.

Hermione rubbed her shoulder the magically bandaged area, trying to massage around instead of directly on top of the affliction. After extracting the parasites, Madam Pomfrey had mentioned that her skin had been too damaged to heal magically.

It would probably leave a scar. She'd said that as if it would be the end of the world and not another page in the catalogue of healed scrapes and cuts she'd collected while working for MI5. Of course, her worst injuries had come from the Goblin Trials, but Flitwick had helped take care of those.

The Hospital Wing doors burst open. "And by the way, Granger," one of the Weasley twins began without preamble, while the other picked up the thread. "How about you explain—" "How an ickle first year, managed to pull off the greatest prank—" "In history since the Marauders."

Hermione glanced between the two, a little sluggish to match their energy. It was the equivalent of reaching out a hand to grab onto a barreling train from a standstill versus matching the speed alongside it and jumping on.

She gave a slow blink, as if searching for fortitude, but really, she wanted to straighten out which was which using her trick of using her metavision to see, even when her eyes were shut. It was so cool—she'd already known about having x-ray vision, but this provided an edge into night vision as well.

George was on the left then. He'd spoken last, so she addressed him first when she reopened her eyes. "I'm sorry, George, what prank, may I ask, are you talking about?"

The last they'd spoken, they were on the case of who'd landed her in the Hospital Wing, so she'd missed a lot of whatever conversation they'd had.

Cliché or not, their head tilts and mild confusion were identical, right down to the slightly pursed lip. Yeah, they didn't know how she kept telling them apart. She hid her smile.

George shook his head. "We're talking about how you skipped school for an entire year."

"How'd you pull that off?" Fred finished.

Hermione blinked. "I... do I seem like the type that would skip school intentionally?"

"We don't know!" they replied in unison. "We can't get a lock on you," George continued.