discontinued, re-write titled "Mind Over Matter".
─── ⋆⋅✰⋅⋆ ───
❞𝐘𝐨𝐮❜𝐯𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐮𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞. . .❞
─── ⋆⋅✰⋅⋆ ───
Liliana Granger never sought out the adventures of life, she'd grown comfortable in what she knew and applied...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"One musical message in person"
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.
Harry, Ron, and Liliana went to visit her every evening; Liliana would stop by in the morning as well to bring her sister breakfast and just lift her spirits overall. 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.
"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.
"Oh, that reminds me," said Harry, a grin on his face. "You owe me three sickles, Lily."
"I do?" said Liliana. "Last I remember you never said it wasn't Malfoy." She turned to Harry, a triumphant look in her eyes. "And since you never clearly stated it wasn't him, I don't owe you anything."
Harry rolled his eyes and muttered a defeated, "Whatever," before turning back to Hermione and noticing something gold sticking out from under her pillow. "What's that?" he asked, pointing at the object.
"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."
Ron looked up at Hermione, disgusted.
"You sleep with this under your pillow?"
But Hermione was spared answering by Madam Pomfrey sweeping over with her evening dose of medicine.
"Is Lockhart the smartest bloke you've ever met, or what?" Ron said to Harry and Liliana as they left the infirmary and started up the stairs toward Gryffindor Tower.
Snape had given them so much homework, Harry thought he was likely to be in the sixth year before he finished it. Ron was just asking Liliana 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.
