Different Perspectives

Something very interesting had happened when Hermione Granger went home after her first year at Hogwarts. She missed her two best friends a lot, for different reasons. She had missed Harry's comforting presence, and Ron...she had missed him for two reasons. The first was that he could make her laugh like no other, and the second (and this had been the surprising one) she missed arguing with Ron.

But she hadn't thought anything about it. Second year began, they began their classes, she got annoyed with them, and everything was back to normal. But that had only lasted for a few days.

It started the morning she had first learned that prejudice exists even in the magical world...

**

September 7^th, 8:34 a.m.

"Good morning," Hermione said cheerfully as she sat down next to Ron at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall.

"There you are," Ron said impatiently as he quickly got to his feet. "Come on then."

"Where are we going?" she inquired. "I haven't eaten yet!"

"Harry's got Quidditch practice, and I want to go watch, so come on," Ron took some toast and hastily slapped some more marmalade on it. "There's your breakfast."

"Thanks for the concern," she said dryly but she followed him out of the Great Hall without protest.

"You know you want to watch Harry," Ron teased as they made their way towards the pitch.

"Of course I do," Hermione said indignantly, "But I want to eat too!"

Ron rolled his eyes as they climbed up the rickety stairs of the stands. "Girls," he muttered under his breath with disgust.

Hermione sat down on one of the benches and looked up at the sky. No one was flying at all. "All right then, Ron, I know I'm not the leading expert on Quidditch, but shouldn't we be able to see the players?"

Ron frowned as he leaned forward to see if the Gryffindor team was on the ground. They weren't. "I reckon they've finished up all ready and are changing," he suggested. "I heard Wood come in to get Harry before dawn. That was ages ago."

"Hmph," Hermione said grumpily, "I guess I could have eaten some sensible breakfast after all."

"Aw, shut up," Ron said offhandedly as he took one of her pieces of toast and began eating it.

"Hey, that's mine!" she protested.

"Not any more," Ron grinned at her through a face full of toast crumbs and marmalade, causing her to laugh despite her discontent at losing some of her breakfast.

"We should save some for Harry too," Hermione suggested, pulling out a napkin she had grabbed on her way out and placing two of the pieces of toast on it. Now there was only two left for her breakfast.

"There they are!" Ron waved down at Harry as he came onto the field along with the rest of the team, who all looked rather sleepy except for Wood, the fanatic captain. To her and Ron's surprise, they looked like they were about to play. "Aren't you finished yet?" called Ron incredulously to Harry.

"Haven't even started," said Harry. He looked rather tired himself and Hermione could see he was eying the toast she had in her hand. "Wood's been teaching us new moves." Harry then kicked off the ground, and after a few minutes of flying, Hermione could see that he felt a lot better with the morning wind on his face. A slight grin spread across his face as he soared around and raced Fred and George.

"You know, I think I've never seen Harry happier then when he flies," she commented.

"Yeah," Ron agreed, "He's brilliant."

Hermione opened her mouth to continue, but she was distracted when she heard some odd clicking noises. She turned around and was surprised to see that mousy-haired first year, she thought his name was Colin, was sitting in a higher seat in their section, taking pictures of the Gryffindor team. She shook her head; Harry's not going to be too pleased about this.

"Look this way, Harry! This way!"

Harry ignored the boy and zoomed away from the stands, but she could see that Wood was frowning over in their direction. Harry and he exchanged some words that Hermione couldn't make out.

"Shut it!" Ron hissed to the first year. "Can't you see you're annoying everyone?"

"Ron!" Hermione said reproachfully. "That wasn't very considerate."

Ron rolled his eyes, and she could see that he was about to make some sort of retort, but both of their attention suddenly switched back to the team when all seven members landed and hopped off their brooms.

"Uh oh," Hermione whispered when she saw seven green robed figures approach the Gryffindors. "Looks like the Slytherins are here."

"Flint!" Wood bellowed, "This is our practice time! We got up specially! You can clear off now."

"This can't be good," Hermione said worriedly, "I hope they don't start fighting."

"Come on," Ron urged, jumping to his feet, "Let's get down there."

"Ron, I don't think we should interfere..."

"Come on," Ron repeated and without a second glance, he started down the stairwell. Hermione had no choice but to follow him, and she vaguely noted that Colin was following her. Colin lagged behind though when they reached the grass, so only she and Ron approached the two teams.

"Oh, look," Hermione overheard the Slytherin captain, Marcus something, "A field invasion."

Ron looked peeved by this statement, but he managed to keep his anger in check. He focused on Harry. "What's happening? Why aren't you playing?" Ron's eyes narrowed as he spotted the blonde second-year standing in front of Harry dressed in Quidditch robes. "And what's he doing here?"

"I'm the new Slytherin Seeker, Weasley," said Malfoy smugly, making Hermione's blood boil. "Everyone's just been admiring the brooms my father's bought our team."

Hermione knew very little about Quidditch and the quality of broomsticks, but upon examining the seven polished, sleek broomsticks, labeled Nimbus 2001, she could see that they were very good broomsticks, probably even better than Harry's, whose broom was top of the line.

"Good, aren't they?" said Malfoy smoothly. "But perhaps the Gryffindor team will be able to raise some gold and get new brooms, too. You could raffle off those Cleansweep Fives; I expect a museum would bid for them." He gestured slightly towards Fred and George's older brooms.

Hermione didn't know what got into her; she just heard the Slytherin's mocking laughter, the looks of rage on the Weasley boys' faces, and just said the first thing that popped into her head.

"At least no one on the Gryffindor team had to buy their way in," she said sharply. "They got in on pure talent."

She couldn't help feeling satisfied as the smug look on Malfoy's face flickered for a brief moment. Her parents had always taught her to turn the other cheek, and never respond to other people's cruel remarks, which she had endured plenty of during primary school with her unruly hair and rather large front teeth. But seeing Malfoy caught off-guard and the flash of pride and triumph on Ron's face at her statement made it worth it. She must remember to say things like that to idiots like Draco Malfoy more often.

But she hadn't shut Malfoy up completely. "No one asked your opinion, you filthy little Mudblood," Malfoy spat.

Then all hell broke loose.

Hermione's stomach had twisted in outrage when she had heard him say filthy and little, which were obviously derogatory slurs against her, but she had no idea about the last term he had called her. Mudblood, was it? But she didn't have time to think on that. She was too busy gaping in shock at the flurry of action that had occurred from the other Gryffindors.

Harry, like herself, was looking rather puzzled and perturbed by what was ensuing, making Hermione suspect that whatever Malfoy had called her was a well-known insult in the wizarding world that obviously she and Harry wouldn't know about. But people she had barely talked to had jumped into action, sticking up for her in ways she never would have imagined.

Alicia Spinnet screamed "How dare you!" with unmistakable anger and outrage in her voice. Marcus what-his-name had to jump in front of Malfoy to protect him from being attacked by Fred and George.

And Ron Weasley, her best friend, pulled his wand out with such anger that Hermione's jaw actually dropped. "You'll pay for that one, Malfoy!" He furiously aimed his wand under the Slytherin captain's outstretched arm so it was pointing at Malfoy's face.

She didn't hear the words the curse he uttered, all she knew was that the loud bang echoed across the stadium and green light shot out of his wand.

But from the wrong end.

Hermione stifled a scream as the light struck Ron hard in the stomach and he reeled backwards, falling onto the grass. She didn't want him to get hurt on her behalf.

"Ron! Ron! Are you all right?" she squealed.

Ron looked up at her like he was going to reply, but no words came out. He belched loudly instead and several greasy, slimy slugs spurted out of his mouth and onto his lap.

She ignored the Slytherin's laughter as she along with the other Gryffindors gathered around Ron worriedly. Hermione had read about this curse, of course, it was most difficult to perfect, and she was rather impressed that Ron had managed to perform it. She just wished it was Malfoy on the ground.

"We'd better get him to Hagrid's, it's nearest," said Harry, looking quickly at Hermione. She nodded and both of them pulled Ron up by an arm.

Hermione tried to comfort Ron best as she could as they made their way to Hagrid's, despite the fact that there was slugs sliding down his robes with increased flurry. Ron was looking desperately pale and sweaty, and Hermione was racking her brains for a counter-curse, but she didn't think there even was one.

She had to admit that her attention was distracted when she was the blonde locks of her new favorite professor, Gilderoy Lockhart. He would have some helpful advice on what to do for Ron, he was ever so smart and talented. But Harry dragged Ron off into the bushes, so she had no choice but to follow. Ron wasn't that enamored with their new DADA professor and wouldn't want him to see him like this.

She had to stick up for Professor Lockhart again with Hagrid while they got Ron to a chair and Hagrid gave him a copper basin to vomit into, distracting her again from Ron's plight. But her attention returned to it when Hagrid asked who Ron had been trying to curse.

Harry explained the situation, "Malfoy called Hermione something--it must've been really bad, because everyone went wild."

"It was bad," said Ron hoarsely, emerging over the tabletop looking even more pale and sweaty, "Malfoy called her Mudblood, Hagrid."

She winced as Ron dived out of sight again as more slugs rained down into the pot. Poor Ron.

"He didn'!" Hagrid growled at Hermione, looking angrier than she had ever seen before. As worried as she was about Ron, her curiosity won out; she had to know what this Mudblood term meant.

"He did," she said, "But I don't know what it means. I could tell it was really rude, of course..."

"It's about the most insulting thing he could think of," gasped Ron as he straightened up again. "Mudblood's a really foul name for someone who is Muggle-born--you know, non-magic parents. There are some wizards--like Malfoy's family--who think they're better than everyone else because they're what people call pure-blood." Ron burped again, but only one small slug shot out of his mouth, and he quickly caught it and dropped it in the bucket, too angry to bend over the basin again. "I mean, the rest of us know it doesn't make any difference at all. Look at Neville Longbottom--he's pure-blood and he can hardly stand a cauldron the right way up."

"An' they haven't invented a spell our Hermione can' do," interjected Hagrid proudly. Hermione blushed, that was awfully nice of Hagrid to say. Still, a part of her wished that Ron had said it. She blinked in surprise; where had that come from?

"It's a disgusting thing to call someone," continued Ron as he wiped his brow with a trembling hand. "Dirty blood, see." Hermione's stomach twisted again. She had a feeling that she'd be hearing this insulting term from Malfoy again. "Common blood. It's ridiculous. Most wizards these days are half-bloods anyway. If we hadn't married Muggles we'd've died out."

Ron retched and disappeared under the table again. Hermione flinched once again as the sound of slugs hitting the basin echoed throughout the cabin again. She studied Ron's back for a long moment. It was very plain to see that Ron was quite passionate about this pure-blood nonsense, and she could understand why he had reacted so violently. Fred and George had even been driven to do that on her behalf. It was probably an important part of their upbringing to not think that Muggle-borns were any less of a witch or wizard than a pure-blood.

Still, Ron had attempted a most difficult curse because she had been insulted. Ron had never tried to use magic against Malfoy before, at least that she knew of. He had always tried to punch him in the face or something masculine and testosterone driven like that. Not only that, instead of complaining about his wand backfiring, Ron was still fuming for her sake about the atrocity of what Malfoy had done. Even while belching up slugs, he was still furious on her behalf. The realization of how brave, and well, wonderful, Ron was filled Hermione's stomach and heart with a flood of pride and joy. Her stomach then twisted again as Ron emerged from the under the table and her eyes fastened on his pale face. He had gotten sick for her. The twisting grew stronger, but it was different from the pangs of humiliation and nerves that usually assailed her stomach. In fact, it was rather like the sensation she got whenever she saw Professor Lockhart.

Hermione almost burst out into laughter as she realized what she had just thought. She was comparing Ron to Professor Lockhart? That was just silly. She shook her head slightly to clear it while she followed Ron, Hagrid, and Harry out to the pumpkin patch, and by the time she followed the two boys back to the castle for lunch, she'd forgotten all about the fleeting sensation she had had when she looked at Ron's face.

**

But she hadn't really forgotten about that moment. She had actually thought about it later that night when she had tried to wait up for Ron and Harry to come back from their detentions. She was worrying about them, as usual, and then Ron's face had flashed in front of her vision once again, and the odd fluttering came back.

It had shocked her so much, and the next morning, she managed to convince herself that it wouldn't happen again. And it hadn't for a long time afterwards, probably because Lockhart was around to make her accelerate her heartbeat and she had been so incredibly worried about the basilisk and Harry.

But of course, it had finally come back later that year.

**

June 15^th, 11:15 p.m.

Hermione opened her eyes blearily, and was quite shocked to find herself staring up at a sterile white ceiling that could only signal that she was in one place: the hospital wing. How did she get here; why was she here? Think back, she ordered herself. You were with Harry and Ron, and Harry heard the voices again, and that's when you figured it out....

Hermione sat up bolt-right in bed. The monster in the Chamber of Secrets! She knew what it was! She had to warn somebody...but why was she in here? She closed her eyes briefly, and the image of a pair of great big yellow eyes that she had seen in the mirror. Hermione fought the urge to groan. She had been Petrified. She had been the only person who had known what the creature was, and she could have stopped anyone else from getting hurt. But she hadn't made it to find anyone before coming across the monster herself. Luckily, she had run into Penelope Clearwater, a Ravenclaw she had seen Percy hang around with, and Penelope had given her a mirror to look around corners with. The move had saved their lives, but precious time had been wasted that they could have used to figure out how to kill the basilisk. And goodness known how long it had been or what had happened since.

She had to warn Harry and Ron as soon as possible. Hermione swung her legs over the side of her bed but her limbs after being stiff and frozen for two months, practically screamed in protest. She paused for a moment, closing her eyes again to prepare herself to get to her feet, ignoring the initial dizziness. Finally, she felt ready to try to stand, but Madame Pomfrey hastily blocked her path.

"And where do you think you're going, Miss Granger?" she said sternly.

"I'm fine," Hermione reassured her, "I have to go. I know what the monster in the Chamber of Secrets is."

Madame Pomfrey stared at her in shock. "What?"

"It's a basilisk," Hermione said quickly, "I read all about it..." Hermione trailed off when she remembered that she had torn out the page of the book she had read in the library. Even though she knew it couldn't possibly be there, she glanced down at her right hand. Nothing. "Did you find the page I tore out?"

"Miss Granger, I have no idea what you are referring to. Now stay still for a few minutes while I finish tending to Mr. Finch-Fletchery. After I examine you, you will be free to go."

Hermione tried not to sigh too loudly as Madame Pomfrey walked back to Justin. He was sitting upright too, looking almost as disoriented as she felt. Penelope Clearwater was crying softly in her bed as she clutched her long curls, trying to get a grip on herself. Colin Creevy, on the other hand, was practically jumping up and down in his excitement at being in the hospital wing. Hermione quietly redirected her attention to herself so she could evaluate her condition. Honestly, she felt fine, a tad groggy, but fine. There were more important things to worry about it. Like where had that page from the book gotten to? Hermione bit her lip before calling out to Madame Pomfrey.

"Have I had any visitors?"

"Of course dear," Madame Pomfrey replied with a touch of impatience, "Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley were just by to see you today. They got special permission, as a matter of fact. No one else has been allowed in here in case the Heir would try to come by and finish you all off."

Hermione let out a tense breath; Harry and Ron must have found it. They knew. And if she knew her best friends, she knew they'd be trying to find a way to kill it right now. She had to find them so she could help.

The doors to the hospital wing opened, and to Hermione's surprise, Ginny, along with Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, entered. Ginny looked awful--she was pale, her robes were dirty, and it was obvious she had been sobbing. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley looked very relieved but shaken.

"Miss Weasley! You're alive! What are you injuries?" Madame Pomfrey demanded, barreling over to Ginny and examining her quickly. Ginny just shook her head and sat down on the bed beside Hermione's. Hermione bit her lip nervously; what had happened now?

"Professor Dumbledore suggested some bed rest and a cup of hot chocolate," Mrs. Weasley said as she sat down on Ginny's bed and smoothed back her hair. "But she's safe now," she added with a whisper.

Hermione stared in shock at the Weasleys. What the hell had happened? Had Ginny been attacked? But she was a pure-blood, she shouldn't have been a target.

Mr. Weasley started pacing around the wing, but he paused when he noticed Hermione sitting on the bed. "Hermione," he said with a smile, "How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine, Mr. Weasley," she said with a smile.

"Ron wrote to us telling us about what had happened to you," Mr. Weasley continued, "He was quite worried about you."

For some insane reason, Hermione felt like blushing. To hide her now pink cheeks, she quickly changed the subject. "Is Ginny all right?"

"She'll be fine, don't worry," he reassured her. "Thanks to Harry and Ron."

"Harry and Ron?" Hermione repeated, stomach jolting with shock. "What happened? Are they all right?"

"They're just fine," Mr. Weasley said soothingly, "They're speaking with Professor Dumbledore at the moment."

"What on earth happened?" she pressed. "Did they find out..."

At that moment, the doors opened to the hospital wing again, and two more people entered. Both were very dirty and bruised, and one, Professor Lockhart, was very dazed. And the other...

"Ron!" Hermione cried out happily, streaking her way across the wing and throwing her arms around his neck, not caring that his robes were covered in grime and some sort of slime. "Ron, you're okay! You did it!"

"Hermione, you're choking me," Ron said, but he was laughing, and his hands were on the small of her back, hugging her right back.

"What happened? Did you find out about the basilisk?" she asked anxiously, "And what happened to Professor Lockhart?" She frowned at her professor.

"Hello, little girl," Professor Lockhart said brightly, "What's your name?"

"He lost his memory," Ron said with slight relish. "He tried to use a memory charm on Harry and it backfired since he used my wand."

"What?" Hermione burst out in disbelief.

"He never wrote any of the things in his book, and he was trying to make sure Harry and me wouldn't tell anyone while we were down in the Chamber..."

"What!"

"Y'see, Harry figured out that the girl who died last time was Moaning Myrtle..."

"Moaning...?"

"Yeah, and that's when we found the book page in your hand..."

"Good, so you did find..."

"And then Ginny got taken by Riddle...."

"Ginny? Riddle?"

"...into the Chamber, so Harry and me figured out where it was, and took Lockheart with us..."

"Why..."

"Anyway, then we found it and that's when Lockheart tried to curse us, and then the roof caved in on us..."

"What!?"

"Then Harry saved Ginny and killed the basilisk," Ron finished with a flourish.

"WHAT?"

Ron grinned at her. "It's a long story." He glanced over to check on his sister before taking Hermione by the wrist. "Come on, I'll tell you at the feast."

"What feast?" Hermione asked, getting frustrated that she had no idea what was going on. She followed Ron down the corridor; she knew that Madame Pomfrey wanted her to stay and get examined, but she'd much rather speak to Ron. "What day is it? Is it end of term all ready?"

"Not yet," Ron answered, "We've got exams in a few days."

"WHAT?" Hermione stopped dead in her tracks. "Ron, I haven't studied at all! I must have missed months of classes and homework! I can't go to the feast now! I have to go study. I hope you took good notes, Ron Weasley, because if I can't decipher them, I will hex you right here and now...Are you laughing at me?"

"No, no," Ron said quickly, "It's just..." He smiled at her again. "Welcome back, Hermione."

They met eyes for a few seconds, and Hermione's stomach clenched in that oddly wonderful way again, the way it reacted when she was around Lockhart. She quickly tucked a stray hair behind an ear and smiled back.

"It's good to be back," she replied in what she hoped was a matter-of-fact way. They started walking again, and Hermione, although she was remembering the feeling of Ron's fingers on her back, she tried to push her attention back on something that was just as important. "So go on then; tell me the whole story."