And this is the end of Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone (Hermione's Version)!

I'm glad I'm writing this to be honest. Writing in Hermione's pov has pushed me to rethink how I write. It has caused me to think even more about world building and diving deeper into the character's mind. I even used a thesaurus more lol.

But yeah, we will be moving on to Chamber of Secrets.

Leave reviews and let me know what you think.

On with the fic!

Chapter 23: Heading Home

For the next three days, it felt like the entire school was buzzing with rumors. Everyone thought they knew what had happened, but the truth was, none of us did. Harry was still in the hospital wing, and no one was telling us the full story.

Dumbledore had found him passed out in a chamber where he'd moved the Mirror of Erised. Madam Pomfrey explained that Harry had hit his head very hard and needed to be kept under observation for possible brain trauma. It was unsettling not knowing the full extent of his injuries or what he'd gone through. Every time I thought about it, my stomach churned.

The day after it happened, Ron and I were allowed out of the hospital wing. Madam Pomfrey refused to let us see Harry, though, and we had no choice but to wait. Knowing he was alive and being looked after was a relief, but the waiting was agonizing. Every glance at the hospital wing doors felt like an eternity of unanswered questions.

Finally, two days later, Dumbledore told us we could visit. We were sitting outside the hospital wing when Madam Pomfrey opened the door and nodded at us. Without waiting for another word, Ron and I rushed inside, both of us practically tripping over our feet to get to Harry's bedside.

"Harry!" I cried as I stopped abruptly, afraid to hug him and risk hurting him. He looked pale and tired, but he was alive. Relief washed over me. "Oh, Harry, we were sure you were going to…" I was not going to think about it! "Dumbledore was so worried!"

"The whole school's talking about it," Ron added, pulling up a chair next to me. "What really happened?"

Harry's face darkened slightly. "Well, for starters, it wasn't Snape."

"Wasn't Snape?" Ron repeated in disbelief. "Who the bloody hell—"

"It was Quirrell!" Harry said.

Ron and I exchanged stunned looks.

"You're joking!" Ron exclaimed, his voice loud enough to earn a disapproving glance from Madam Pomfrey across the room.

"No! It really was," Harry insisted. "Remember how we'd always try to guess what was under that turban? And, Ron, you said it was probably the face of his mum or something?"

"That was a horrible game you two would play," I muttered, crossing my arms. It had always felt a bit mean-spirited.

"Well, Ron, you were sort of right," Harry continued, leaning forward slightly. "It was a face. Voldemort's, to be exact."

The words hung in the air like a thunderclap. My breath caught in my throat. Voldemort? Here? My brain struggled to process the gravity of what Harry was saying. He didn't wait for us to react before launching into the whole story: how Quirrell had let the troll in on Halloween, how he'd been the one trying to kill Harry at the Quidditch match, and how Snape had actually been trying to save him. My mind reeled at the revelations.

Harry described the Mirror of Erised and how it had somehow put the Stone in his pocket, and then he explained what had happened when he faced Quirrell—how Voldemort had been sharing his body, and how simply touching him had caused Quirrell to disintegrate. My hands trembled as I listened. The thought of Harry facing Voldemort alone was horrifying.

When Harry mentioned that Dumbledore had said the Stone was going to be destroyed, Ron frowned.

"So the Stone's gone?" Ron asked. "Flamel's just going to die?"

"That's what I said," Harry replied, throwing his hands up slightly. "But Dumbledore thinks that… What was it? 'To the well-organized mind, death is but the next great adventure.'"

"I always said he was off his rocker," Ron said with a laugh.

"So what happened to you two?" Harry asked, turning his attention to us.

"Well, I got back all right," I said, sitting on the edge of Harry's bed. "I brought Ron round—that took a while. We made it out, and I took him to the hospital wing. Then, I went dashing up to the owlery to contact Dumbledore when I met him in the entrance hall. He already knew! He just said, 'Harry's gone after him, hasn't he?' and hurtled off to the third floor."

"D'you think he meant you to do it?" Ron asked, leaning forward slightly. "Sending you your father's cloak and everything?"

I frowned, crossing my arms. "Well, if he did, I mean to say that's terrible! You could have been killed."

"No, it isn't," Harry said, shaking his head. "He's a funny man, Dumbledore. I think he sort of wanted to give me a chance. I think he knows more or less everything that goes on here, you know. I reckon he had a pretty good idea we were going to try, and instead of stopping us, he just taught us enough to help. I don't think it was an accident. He let me find out how the mirror worked. It's almost like he thought I had the right to face Voldemort if I could…"

"Yeah, Dumbledore's off his rocker, all right," Ron said with a grin. "Listen, you've got to be up for the end-of-year feast tomorrow. The points are all in, and Slytherin won, of course. You missed the last Quidditch match. We were steamrollered by Ravenclaw without you, but the food'll be good."

Before Harry could respond, Madam Pomfrey bustled over, her expression stern.

"You've had nearly fifteen minutes. Now OUT," she said firmly, shooing us away.

I felt a pang of guilt leaving Harry again. I wanted to stay longer, to make sure he was truly all right. As we stepped into the corridor, I glanced at Ron. He looked just as worried as I felt. But at least we knew Harry was alive, safe, and… Harry.

The end of the year feast had an air of depression. The Great Hall was oppressive, drenched in green and silver. Everywhere I looked, there were reminders of Slytherin's smug victory. A massive banner of the Slytherin serpent hung behind the High Table, its dark, coiled form seeming to mock us. It made my stomach churn. How on earth did they manage to win again? Especially with Malfoy in their house, smirking, gloating Malfoy.

When Harry walked in, the chatter in the room rose to a loud buzz. Heads turned, whispers followed him like a shadow. He quickly sat down between Ron and me, his head ducked slightly as though he was trying to block out the stares. I wanted to tell him not to worry about them, but the words stuck in my throat. Even I felt unsettled by all the attention.

Thankfully, Dumbledore stood up moments later, and the room fell silent. His presence had a way of quieting even the most restless crowd.

"Another year gone!" Dumbledore began cheerfully, his voice cutting through the tension like a warm breeze. "And I must trouble you with an old man's wheezing waffle before we sink our teeth into our delicious feast. What a year it has been! Hopefully, your heads are all a little fuller than they were... you have the whole summer ahead to get them nice and empty before next year starts…"

I smiled faintly at his words, but my attention sharpened as he continued.

"Now, as I understand it, the house cup here needs awarding, and the points stand thus: In fourth place, Gryffindor, with three hundred and twelve points; in third, Hufflepuff, with three hundred and fifty-two; Ravenclaw has four hundred and twenty-six; and Slytherin, four hundred and seventy-two."

The cheers from the Slytherin table were deafening. I clenched my hands into fists as I saw Malfoy banging his goblet on the table, his face smug and triumphant. The entire table looked insufferably pleased with themselves. I refused to clap. No way was I going to celebrate that.

"Yes, yes, well done, Slytherin," Dumbledore said, his tone light, but something about it made the room grow quiet again. "However, recent events must be taken into account."

The shift in the atmosphere was palpable. Every Slytherin in the room sat up straighter, their smugness replaced with unease.

"Ahem," Dumbledore continued, his eyes twinkling. "I have a few last minute points to dish out. Let me see. Yes… First, to Mr. Ronald Weasley…"

I turned to Ron, whose face had gone from pale to bright red in seconds. Fred and George gawked at him, their mouths open in identical expressions of shock.

"… for the best played game of chess Hogwarts has seen in many years, I award Gryffindor house fifty points."

The Gryffindor table erupted in cheers, and it felt like the very walls of the Great Hall were shaking. The stars above us in the enchanted ceiling seemed to shimmer with the noise. Percy puffed up his chest, loudly declaring, "My brother, you know! My youngest brother! Got past McGonagall's giant chess set!"

Ron looked half-embarrassed, half-thrilled. Fred and George clapped him on the back, grinning from ear to ear. I couldn't help but beam at him. Harry and I cheered the loudest.

"Second," Dumbledore's voice rose above the clamor, "to Miss Hermione Granger… for the use of cool logic in the face of fire, I award Gryffindor house fifty points."

My heart soared, but I could feel my face burning with blush. I quickly buried my face in my arms, trying to hide my embarrassment.

"That's my best mate!" Ron bellowed, and I peeked up to see him grinning at me, his hand giving me a hearty pat on the back. His enthusiasm made me smile, even as my cheeks burned. Harry was clapping just as loudly, and I couldn't help but feel a rush of pride.

"Third, to Mr. Harry Potter…" Dumbledore paused, and the room went utterly silent. "… for pure nerve and outstanding courage, I award Gryffindor house sixty points."

If I thought the cheering had been loud before, it was nothing compared to this. Harry blushed deeply but couldn't hide the wide grin spreading across his face. The table erupted into applause and cheers, but my mind was already racing. We were now tied with Slytherin!

Dumbledore raised his hand again, and the room fell silent once more. His eyes scanned the students, his voice growing softer but no less powerful.

"There are all kinds of courage," he said thoughtfully. "It takes a great deal of bravery to stand up to our enemies, but just as much to stand up to our friends. I, therefore, award ten points to Mr. Neville Longbottom."

For a moment, there was stunned silence at the Gryffindor table. Then it exploded. The cheers were deafening, echoing so loudly I could barely hear myself think. Neville looked completely dumbfounded, his eyes wide as he received hugs and slaps on the back from everyone around him.

I glanced over at the Slytherin table, where Malfoy looked like he'd just been hit with a Stunning Spell. His face was pale, his mouth agape. The rest of the Slytherins wore matching expressions of disbelief and horror. It was glorious.

"Which means," Dumbledore's voice rang out, cutting through the uproar, "we need a little change of decoration."

He clapped his hands, and the green and silver banners hanging around the hall transformed instantly into scarlet and gold. The Slytherin serpent vanished, replaced by a towering Gryffindor lion. The Gryffindor table erupted into cheers so loud it felt like the entire hall was shaking. Hats were tossed into the air, laughter filled the room, and even Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw joined in the celebration.

My chest swelled with pride as I watched Professor McGonagall shake Snape's hand, her smile so wide it looked like it might hurt. Snape, meanwhile, wore an expression that could curdle milk.

That night in Gryffindor Tower was the best of my life. The party went on for hours. Even as first years, Ron, Harry, and I were welcomed by the older students to join in the celebration. It felt like we were on top of the world.

The next morning, exam results came in. I was overjoyed to see that I'd passed everything, just as I'd hoped. Harry and Ron had done surprisingly well too, and even Neville managed to pass. All was right in the world.

The end of the school year came far too quickly. Soon, we were packed up and standing at the Hogsmeade station, the Hogwarts Express gleaming before us. Its familiar red paint reflected the sunlight, and the whistle echoed through the air, signaling it was time to board. My chest felt heavy as we climbed on—I wasn't just saying goodbye to Hogwarts; I was leaving behind Harry and Ron, my constant companions since Halloween.

We found a compartment just for the three of us, and Harry, true to form, came back from the trolley with enough snacks to feed half the train. I couldn't help but laugh as he dropped an assortment of chocolate frogs, Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans, and pumpkin pasties onto the seat beside him.

The hours on the train passed quickly. We reminisced about everything that had happened—the dangers, the victories, and the sheer madness of our first year. It felt surreal that we'd faced so much and survived. After a while, the boys moved on to several rounds of chess and Exploding Snap, while I buried myself in a book. Still, my thoughts wandered. I knew I'd miss them terribly over the summer.

Before we knew it, the train slowed, and King's Cross Station came into view. The bustling platform felt like an entirely different world from the one we were leaving behind. As we stepped off the train, the sounds of parents greeting their children and the clatter of carts surrounded us.

I turned to Harry and Ron. "You must come and stay this summer. Both of you! I'll send you an owl."

"Thanks," said Harry, a shadow briefly crossing his face. "I'll need something to look forward to."

I nodded, determined to keep in touch. "I'll write to you as soon as I'm home."

"Bye, Harry!" Parvati called as she passed, giving him a quick hug and a cheeky wink.

"See you, Potter!" Seamus added, clapping Harry on the back with a grin.

"Still famous," Ron teased, smirking.

"Not where I'm going, I promise you," Harry said, his voice wry but his smile genuine.

As we passed through the gateway, the hum of the Muggle world enveloped us. I took a deep breath, the scent of train engines and London air grounding me. Suddenly, a high-pitched voice broke through the crowd.

"There he is, Mum, there he is, look!"

I turned toward the sound and saw a little girl with bright red pigtails bouncing on her toes. Her eyes, warm and brown, shone with excitement as she pointed at Harry. Beside her was a kind-looking woman with the same fiery red hair. They were unmistakably Weasleys.

"Harry Potter!" the girl squealed, unable to contain her awe. "Look, Mummy! I can see—"

"Be quiet, Ginny, and it's rude to point," Mrs. Weasley said, though her smile didn't falter. She enveloped both Harry and Ron in warm hugs, her embrace as comforting as her homemade sweaters. I could almost feel the love radiating from her—it was the sort of warmth I imagined Harry had never experienced before.

"Busy year?" she asked, her tone motherly.

"Very," Harry said. "Thanks for the fudge and the sweater, Mrs. Weasley."

"Oh, it was nothing, dear," she said, pinching his cheek affectionately.

Before I could dwell on how sweet she was, a gruff, impatient voice cut through the warm atmosphere.

"Ready, are you?"

I turned to see a beet-red man with an enormous mustache scowling at Harry. Behind him stood a woman with sharp, birdlike features and a boy who looked like a spoiled pig. They were unmistakably the Dursleys. My stomach twisted at the sight of them.

"You must be Harry's family!" Mrs. Weasley said, extending her hand with a kind smile. The sharp woman ignored it entirely.

"In a manner of speaking," Harry's uncle grunted. "Hurry up, boy, we haven't got all day." He turned and walked off without another word, his family trailing after him like obedient ducklings.

Harry lingered for a moment. "See you over the summer, then," Ron said, his tone casual but his eyes full of meaning.

"Hope you have, er, a good holiday," I added, though my gaze lingered on Harry's retreating figure. I didn't trust those awful relatives, and the idea of Harry spending weeks with them filled me with dread.

"Oh, I will," Harry said with a mischievous grin. "They don't know we're not allowed to use magic at home. I'm going to have a lot of fun with Dudley this summer."

I laughed despite myself, imagining the chaos Harry could cause. "Write, please, Harry!" I called after him, trying to hide my concern.

"Don't worry, he'll be alright," Ron said, trying to reassure me. "All the shit he did in school? What's a few Muggles?"

I smiled weakly. "You'll write too, won't you, Ron?"

Ron groaned playfully. "Really? You're giving me homework?"

"Come on, Ron!"

"Alright, alright," he relented with a grin. "I'll write when I can. See if your parents will let you come. If you get bored around me, I have a sister."

I smiled at the thought of being visit someone over the summer. Then, out of the corner of my eye, I spotted Mama and Papa waving at me from the edge of the platform. Relief and joy flooded through me.

"There they are!" I said, my heart swelling. I gave Ron one last wave before hurrying toward my parents.

The moment I reached them, Mama enveloped me in a tight hug, her familiar perfume wrapping around me like a blanket. "Oh, Hermione, we missed you so much!" she exclaimed, her voice full of emotion.

"I missed you too, Mama, Papa," I said, smiling as Papa ruffled my hair affectionately. Ava stood beside them, bouncing on her toes with excitement.

"Who was that red-headed boy you were talking to?" Ava asked, her eyes sparkling with curiosity.

"That's Ron," I said with a fond smile. "He's one of my best friends."

Ava's face lit up mischievously. "He's cute."

"Mama...," I groaned, rolling my eyes but laughing despite myself.

As we walked toward the car, I couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness. Leaving Ron and Harry felt like leaving a piece of myself behind. Since Halloween, we'd faced danger, shared secrets, and forged an unbreakable bond. And now, we were heading in different directions.

But I knew this wasn't goodbye. Ron had invited me to his home for the summer, and Harry had promised to write. Our friendship had survived so much already—I was certain it would only grow stronger.

I leaned back in my seat as the car pulled away, the sights of London whizzing past. My heart felt full. Hogwarts had given me more than just knowledge; it had given me friends, bravery, and a world I couldn't wait to return to. For now, I'd cherish the memories and look forward to the adventures that lay ahead.