AN: Updates are slow because I am driving my betas nuts with last minute changes. Have mercy, O/CD is hell. On with the show!

Hermione's remaining summer was just as enjoyable as her stay in Devon. Aunt Alice stayed for a week, taking them to the Theater and Hyde Park and buying them all ices after a visit to see the Crown Jewels.

Father had indeed moved his practice to a new location, taking on a paying apprentice to help defray the costs even further, so the house was blessedly silent.

When the summer was over and she had to pack her trunks, she wept sad tears, wishing she could stay and go at the same time.

She climbed into the hired hansom next to Mrs. Crabtree and waved to her parents with a quivering lip, until they were lost to sight.

Just as she had over the Christmas and Easter holidays, Mrs. Crabtree went apoplectic at the sight of the people gathered around the Thestral carriages. Again, she demanded the driver take them back forthwith, so she could explain to the Grangers just what sort of people they had delivered their daughter to.

Again, Mr. Tatterwing Obliviated the housekeeper with a smile and a stooped bow. Hermione watched Mrs. Crabtree set off back toward their home with a smile and a wave.

"Hello, Hermione!" She turned to see Ron waving at her from where his family stood in a cluster. Harry was with to them too, dressed like a common street urchin. He was caught up in a chat with Neville. Hermione bristled like a cat.

"Hello, Ron."

"Now, don't be mad at me. I'm really very sorry about what happened that night. And you did get nice teeth out of it? I bet that made you happy."

"Actually, Ronald, that caused me even more problems. Honestly, how exactly was I supposed to explain brand new teeth to my parents?"

"Oh, sorry. That must have been awful. How did you explain it?"

"The situation was taken care of for me, thank you very much."

"Look, Hermione. I felt awful about what happened. I'm really terribly sorry. I know I already apologized, but I spent all summer trying to figure out how to say it again. I don't want you to be mad with me. Could we start again?" He stuck out his hand. "Hello, I'm Ronald Weasley."

Hermione scrunched up her face but then let slip a wry smile. She sighed and held out her hand.

"Pleased to meet you, Ronald." She shook his hand quickly. "I would appreciate it most sincerely if you would stop creating situations where you have to apologize to me in the future."

"I promise."

"Good. Well, then. Did you enjoy your summer holiday?"

"I did, in fact. Harry was able to spend some time with us. But that's his story to tell. How about yourself?"

"I had a lovely summer. I spent a great deal of time with my Aunt. I so love it there. She lives in Devon."

"So do we! I wish we'd known you were nearby. What part of Devon?"

"Ottery St—"

"—Catchpole? That's where I live! Oh, what dashed luck! You were my neighbor!"

"Then you might know my Aunt! Mrs. Phillip Perthwit?"

"No, we don't actually know any Muggles. We do know a few of the other Wizarding families around. The Diggorys and the Lovegoods.

"Say, Hermione, my sister Ginny is starting this year. You'll look after her in the girls' dorm, won't you?" He turned and pointed to a young witch standing by his mother looking excited and lost at the same time.

"I will. I'll go and introduce myself now."

"I would be grateful. I'll go and round up Harry. We were late, so we didn't get a chance to get ready. I need to grab him and change into our uniforms in the Leaky before my Mum has a conniption. Save us a seat on the carriage!"

"I will!"

Hermione smiled as she watched Ron hurry over to Harry and tug his sleeve. Harry grabbed for his valise, and they headed inside.

Hermione piled into a carriage with Ginevra Weasley, Luna Lovegood, and Neville, and even though they had saved the boys a seat, the carriages left without Harry and Ron.

Snape was heading to the feast when Dumbledore stopped him in the hallway.

"Might I have a moment of your time, Professor?"

"Of course, Headmaster."

"It seems that we are short two students. Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley did not arrive with the others." Dumbledore gave him a significant look over the heads of the students scurrying by.

Snape's gut clenched with instantaneous concern. Had something terrible happened to Potter? Had it started already? Was this it?

"I would be grateful, if you could look into it for me."

"Of course, Headmaster. Immediately."

He spun on his heel and headed off out the front doors. Unsure of where to start, he headed for the stables first.

The Thestrals had already been released back into the forest, and a quick look showed him all the carriages were empty. He checked for any traces of Dark Magic and found none.

The sound of a tremendous impact had him hurrying out of the stables. He stopped short when he saw an entire coach-a-bower thrown from the Whomping Willow, with its ghost horses thrashing in the air.

Someone had been enchanting Muggle coaches again, and he would put his Galleons on it having been Arthur Weasley.

The carriage door flew open, and the missing boys seemed to be tossed out, along with their luggage. The coach took off for the forest with the boys shouting behind it uselessly.

Snape's rage was such that he took a full minute to calm himself before he headed up the sloping hill after them

He caught up with them outside the window to the Great Hall. He was less than pleased to hear that he was the topic of discussion.

"Maybe he left, because he wasn't given the Defense position again!"

"Or maybe he was sacked! I mean, everyone hates him—"

"Or maybe he's waiting to hear why you two didn't arrive with the Thestral carriages," he intoned. He indulged himself with a smile when he saw them give a guilty start. Surely, Dumbledore couldn't ignore this. "Follow me," he ordered.

"Leave it to those two," snapped Hermione, as she braided Ginny's hair for bed. "They've only been back one day, and already they're in trouble and already they're complaining about some dark plot. I mean seriously. Why would anyone lock them in the men's facilities at the Leaky? I'm surprised Neville wasn't with them."

"I blame Ron," Ginny said. "Harry's too nice to be the sort to cause people trouble intentionally, but Ron is always making a hash of things. I shudder to think what will happen when my parents find out they stole the coach-a-bower. My father could get in serious trouble if the Ministry finds out he's been charming Muggle coaches. There was a fellow over in Ireland that was caught when his charmed coach went out of control. It started stopping to pick up Muggles and carried them off. It was a mess. There was no way to Obliviate everyone who saw it. The Ministry imposed heavy fines after that."

"I wouldn't count on Ron being the only guilty party. From what I could see last year, the three of them had a tendency to whip themselves into a lather over the silliest things."

"He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named isn't a silly thing."

Hermione tied the braid off with a red ribbon that clashed marvelously with the girl's auburn hair.

"I really need to take more time and read up on this Voldemort. I really don't know much beyond what he did to Harry's family. I did miss a good bit of the gossip last year. I'm afraid I do have a tendency to shove my nose into a book and not come out."

"I'll tell you everything I know. It's all Harry could talk about this summer. It's just terrible what he went through at the end of the last school year."

"Oh, yes. Wasn't it just…"

Hermione walked to her next class thinking over how odd it was that her Professor had seemed to ignore her at breakfast. All of last year, he had generally looked her way at least once each mealtime. It could have just been that he was in a bad mood. He'd been plainly furious, shooting both Harry and Ron overgenerous glares on several occasions during the meal. But it was the way that he stared down at his plate immediately afterwards, that had her perplexed.

Had she displeased him somehow? Could he be upset that she had taken lunch in The Leaky Cauldron with Aunt Alice? Surely not. How else was she expected to gather her school supplies? Was she supposed to have contacted him? Surely he had better things to do.

No, whatever reason her Professor had for suddenly ignoring her, there had to be a good explanation. One thing last year had taught her was that Professor Snape never did anything without a good reason. It was just extremely difficult to find it.

She decided she was being silly. She was fretting over her Professor in a way that made Ginny's mooning after Harry look subtle. It wasn't as if the Professor was actually her friend. He was just her teacher. Certainly, she'd felt that they'd shared a bond last year. He hadn't exactly gone out of his way to be solicitous, but to her mind, he had certainly gone farther than he had to. She wasn't blind. As far as she could see, she was the only student outside of Slytherin that showed him any respect at all, and he had seemed to take such loyalty to heart.

She realized, on her way to her first Defense Against Dark Arts class that she was making too much out of one distracted meal. She shook her head to clear it and hurried to catch the door before it closed.

She was most interested in seeing the new teacher. She had read Professor Lockhart's books from cover to cover and thought him a most impressive man. From his pictures, he certainly seemed a rather handsome man, as well. She hadn't been afforded a good look at him during the Welcoming Feast last night. He had been seated too far away, and the Ravenclaw table had blocked her view. She wondered why he was even in Ravenclaw. His series of autobiographies certainly seemed like the stuff Gryffindors were made of.

Hermione seated herself at an open seat, next to Lavender, since Padma and Parvati were sharing a table already and pulled out her books, parchment, quill and ink. She'd been hoping that the school would have instituted Professor McGonagall's changes and integrated the boys with the girls again, but apparently that was not to be this year.

Her thoughts were interrupted when the office door flew open, and Professor Gilderoy Lockhart swirled into the room.

Hermione wasn't even aware that she had stopped breathing, until Lavender quietly exclaimed, "Oh, my!"

Hermione sucked in a breath before replying, "Indeed."

Hermione spent the next few weeks smitten. She did her best not to make a fool of herself like the other girls who were plainly besotted by the handsome Professor, but she wasn't entirely sure of her success. After all, this was her first smit.

She'd begun to take extra time braiding and pinning her hair, which amounted to quite a lot, since it was always so unruly, and spent even more time spelling out any wrinkles in her robes and uniform. The only person who noticed was Luna Lovegood. They had taken to studying together in the library and the first-year seemed to be a touch too perceptive for Hermione's comfort level.

She sat at the Halloween Feast by herself and looked around. This was actually her first Halloween Feast and the extra pains she'd taken with her appearance hardly seemed worth it. It was a good deal more enjoyable than crying in the girls' room and nearly getting killed by a troll, but on the whole, a bit of a letdown.

Several people were missing: Ginny, Harry, Ron, Neville, even Professor Lockhart. Dumbledore twinkled merrily, while the other teachers seemed to gossip and laugh amongst themselves. Professor Snape looked as irritated as ever, his mood seemingly capable of fathoming new lows without an end in sight.

It was rather too dull. She looked again at Professor Lockhart's empty seat and decided to go for a stroll. Perhaps she could find him near his office and ask him a question or two about his books. That would be a nice thing to do. Everyone liked a chance to talk about themselves. Especially Professor Lockhart.

On the way there, she spotted Harry. She was about to call out to him, when she realized he looked to be in some distress. He looked pale and frightened, as he stared at the wall on the hallway.

"Harry? Are you alright?"

"Did you hear that?"

"No. What did I miss?"

"I heard a voice. It sounded like it was in the wall and moving very fast."

"What did it say?"

"There! That! Did you hear that?"

"No."

Hermione backed away a step as Harry darted down the hall, running his hands along the stones.

"It's going to kill someone!"

"What is? What did you hear Harry?"

She took off after him, pulling her wand out and gripping it tightly in her hand.

As they ran along, Ron and Neville came around the corner and met up with them. "There you are, Harry! Why did you run out of the deathday party so fast?"

Harry didn't stop to explain; he just kept after the mysterious voice he heard. Hermione told them what she knew in a hushed voice as the three of them hurried to keep up with Harry. Around another turn, and they were suddenly running through water.

Hermione couldn't tell where it was coming from, but the floor was covered.

"Look at the spiders!" shouted Neville.

Ron went pale, mumbling something about hating the wee beasts, as Hermione watched a long line of common house spiders making their way to the window and out through a crack in the mortar.

"Look!" shouted Harry.

They all stopped dead in the middle of the hall and looked at the writing on the wall. Large red letters, still dripping fresh, and Hermione wondered if it was paint, or blood.

THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN OPENED. ENEMIES OF THE HEIR, BEWARE.

"What does that mean?" she asked.

"Who is the heir?" asked Neville.

"Merlin! What happened to Mrs. Norris?" moaned Ron. He grabbed Harry by the back of his robes. "We have to get out of here. Now!"

But it was too late.

It seemed as if the entire school had suddenly descended on them. Hermione found herself surrounded by a large crowd, all reading the words and exclaiming.

Draco Malfoy pushed through the crowd and hissed, "Enemies of the heir beware!" He turned to Hermione and spat, "You'll be next, Mudblood!"

Hermione shrank back from the venom in his voice and the hatred on his face. She backed into someone and turned quickly to both apologize and flee, but found herself tangled in Professor Snape's robes.

He did something strange then. He snarled at her to get out of his way, with a face full of annoyed disgust, and he extricated her from his person with a gentle hand, guiding her behind him in a way that looked far rougher than it actually was. In fact, if one didn't look at his face and ignored his words, it would seem just as if he had hidden her behind him.

When she tried to explain about Harry having heard voices, she was glared into silence by both Ron and Harry. Luna reached out and pulled her by her arm, and Hermione ended up in the background.

Confused, she watched as Ron, Harry and Neville were taken away for questioning.

She stared at the words on the wall, finally beginning to understand that Harry might not be the attention-seeker she'd thought him to be. She remembered the look of terror on his face when she'd first spied him outside Lockhart's office, and it occurred to her that Harry might, in fact, be in a great deal of danger.

Hermione walked out of the Great Hall after the first meeting of the Dueling Club with two brand-new shiny bits of information whirling around in her head. First, Harry was a Parselmouth, and from the muttering and thrilled gossip, it would seem that made him an even more likely candidate to be this Heir of Slytherin McGonagall had explained about. The other fact that dazzled her was the sudden realization that Professor Snape was worth ten Lockharts any day. Her interests in Lockhart had been vanquished as thoroughly as the man himself, by her dark and dashing Professor Snape.

How could she have been so blind? How had she not seen it before? The man was an ode to grace and nobility hiding in plain sight. She turned around and looked behind her just in time to catch a glimpse of him storming out of the hall with a sneer. To the unskilled eye, he looked as dyspeptic as ever. In fact, he looked even more likely than ever to start laying about with curses, finally driven over the edge by the students around him, but to Hermione's newly opened eyes, he also looked misunderstood and lonely. It was tragic really.

Hermione had a sudden vision of an immortal doomed to earth as a punishment for some Olympic crime. What worse fate for a hidden god was there than to be locked into such a less than perfect form and driven demented by the incessant chattering of the half-formed minds of mere mortal children?

Hermione stopped and blinked, suddenly embarrassed by her own thoughts. She really didn't seem to be very good at this whole 'smitten' thing. It took up too much of her time and seemed to have her always on the verge of writing bad poetry. She thought about the little doodles of hearts and flowers she had scribbled around the name 'Gilderoy' and winced. Somehow she had the feeling that if she tried to do the same thing with 'Severus,' her hand might explode in the act.

Being thirteen seemed to be more difficult than one would have thought.

She puffed her cheeks as she blew out a breath and pushed her varying smits and unsmits from her mind. There were far more important things that needed her attention. This Heir of Slytherin and the voice Harry could hear in the walls seemed to be first and foremost.

Anyone with half a brain could see that Harry wasn't evil. Hotheaded and impulsive, yes, but a future Dark wizard? Hardly. To her mind, the most obvious choice would be that odious Malfoy boy. Who else embodied all the traits of Slytherin House so completely?

She stopped with her hand on the door of the Library, as a cold finger trailed down her spine.

Actually, there was one other person that displayed the traits of Slytherin House in a manner far more flawless than Malfoy. Professor Snape.

Now that she thought about it, he looked like an even more obvious candidate. Not that she thought he was the Heir, but it was certainly an obvious conclusion. One many people might leap to without a doubt. After all, how many of them were still convinced that he had tried to kill Harry during the first Quidditch match last year? Even after it had been clarified that Professor Quirrell was responsible, no one really wanted to pay attention to the glaring fact that Professor Snape had been trying to protect Harry. Even Harry himself downplayed his need for gratitude to the man.

Hermione snatched open the door to the library with a new sense of purpose. She needed to find out who the real culprit was before her poor, misunderstood Professor took the blame.

Oh, or Harry. Yes, mustn't forget him either.

My betas wish me to inform you that smit was not a werd even 200 years ago, and they abstain from all responsibility. I say it is now. *gigglesnort*