A/N Here's the second chapter for you :) Enjoy!
__ __ __
The beginning of the second year was annoyingly similar to the first. Hermione sat on the train on her own until Neville came and joined her. She couldn't find Harry or Ron anywhere. She hoped they hadn't missed the train but if they hadn't, did that mean they were avoiding her? She had thought they were friends now, perhaps she was mistaken.
They had missed the train. What idiots. Driving to school in a flying car, for Merlin's sake! Hermione was practically cowering when she saw the withering look McGonagall gave them but she was pleasantly surprised when the Professor turned to her and gave her that small smile again. It astounded her how she could be so angry and then so calm a second later. But it made Hermione practically glow.
The second year also brought along a new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher; Professor Lockhart. Hermione found him charming and heroic, like the princes in Muggle fairytales. Not to mention he was a polar opposite to the quivering façade which Quirrell had used when teaching them. It was not surprising, then, that she had a crush on him along with every other female in the wizarding community. Well… Not every one. Professor McGonagall seemed to have a very low tolerance threshold for how much of Professor Lockhart she could stand. It wasn't long before Hermione became disillusioned with her 'hero' and saw him for the fraud he was. Taking after Professor McGonagall's shining example, of course.
Unfortunately, her epiphany only occurred after she had made and sent Lockhart a ridiculously cheesy Valentine's card which Ron found simply disgusting. He had sent her a Get Well Soon card, after the fiasco with the Polyjuice Potion (which Hermione would never talk about after the event, accidentally turning yourself into the ugly version of Catwoman was not something to brag about). It had, initially, been the answer to fangirly prayers but soon became embarrassing and she could see no other course of action than to destroy it using the blue flames she had learnt to produce in her first year. It seemed kind of fitting, setting fire to one teacher's robes in her first year and another's card with the same spell in her second.
__ __ __
Hermione was deeply enjoying her second year at Hogwarts and the academic challenges it brought. She was, of course, excelling in all of her classes and still managed to find the time to do extra research herself and help Harry and Ron keep up with their own class work. There was a surprisingly large gap between how easy the first year had been compared to this one but Hermione relished and rose to the challenge.
She was spending all of her spare time with her friends, it was a novel experience, being mostly alone while at her first school. She enjoyed their company greatly even though Ron couldn't seem to get past the amount she studied. If he wasn't careful, he would have to repeat the year, a feat which would have been completely unbearable to Hermione. She didn't know how she had survived so long without friends, it was the most wonderful, freeing sensation, knowing you always had someone to talk to.
And then came the first attack. Mrs Norris. It was horrible, so horrible it could hardly be put into words. Merlin knows Mrs Norris wasn't exactly popular amongst the students but who on earth would do such a cruel, malicious thing? She could hardly believe it when Filch had blamed Harry, Ron and herself for the event though she supposed, he was distraught and people rarely think rationally when they feel like that.
After the cat, things only got worse. More attacks, more mysterious Petrifications. It was official, the Ministry were idiots! How could they possibly think that getting rid of Hagrid and Dumbledore would help anything?! It was almost laughable! Without Dumbledore everyone may as well line themselves up to be killed. He had been the only one protecting the students from the inevitable bloodshed this 'Heir of Slytherin' had planned. Perhaps Hogwarts should be renamed Slaughterhouse, if Professor McGonagall had been taken away too, Hermione would have packed her bags and left.
Hermione was scared, all the attacks, they were all on… mudbloods. She couldn't forget the venom with which Malfoy had spat the word at her. She couldn't let it show, though. Couldn't let her friends worry about her, they could hardly look after themselves as it was. Now, more than ever, she could really do with some comfort. She could remember seeing McGonagall in the library the previous year and it brought a smile to her lips, that's what she needed again. But she couldn't go looking for her, she was probably stressed and completely sick of the sight of scared students. She couldn't let anyone know she was frightened.
Along with other Muggleborns, Hermione was attacked by the Basilisk. She had been in the library trying to solve the mystery of Harry hearing voices, she couldn't believe he was going mad. And a small part of her (which she would never, ever admit existed) wanted to be the one to solve the whole mystery of the Chamber of Secrets so that she could impress McGonagall. As luck (and a very long search) would have it, she had figured it out. It was a Basilisk! A huge, horrible snake that was somehow sneaking around the school, even avoiding Dumbledore. But how…? Of course, the pipes! The snake was creeping it's way around in the plumbing, no wonder no one had seen it! Pelting out of the library, she ran headfirst into Penelope Clearwater.
"Penelope," she panted, out of breath and itching to get moving again, "Look around corners with a mirror first. It's not safe."
Without another word, she left a rather confused Penelope and ran to the end of the corridor. She pulled out her mirror and looked around to be sure it was safe. It wasn't. A pair of poisonous yellow eyes met hers and her whole life froze, Penelope's soon after. Obviously, she cannot remember her period of Petrification but she certainly can remember waking up and seeing a single tear slide down Professor McGonagall's cheek. The overwhelming urge to hug her Professor filled her so suddenly she blushed. She had to turn to Harry and Ron or she would have leapt from the bed and embraced her strict, proper Professor.
As the train pulled away from Hogsmeade, Hermione cried. She would miss Professor McGonagall more than anything else. She would see Ron and Harry soon but the Professor would be absent from her life until September. This thought hurt her far more than she expected it to.
