Pansy glared down the Slytherin table at Draco. He didn't acknowledge her or even glance in her direction when she cleared her throat. His focus wasn't on anyone at their table. It never was.

It had been his own personal peccadillo at first. Taunting the mudblood companion of his most hated rival had satisfied his mean streak. He'd enjoyed watching her face crumple, seeing her ache. It wasn't unusual for him to enjoy twisting the knife. He was a Malfoy after all. no one had thought much about his little pass time. Then the mudblood had broken his nose and hobby had become obsession. She'd become the one he hated most, the one he wanted to punish. It might have stayed that way, but for the Yule ball. Punishing her took on a different tenor for him after that. The others enjoyed watching him carry on, and his obsession with Granger had spread. A few stray glances in fourth year had turned into the whole lot of them taking turns staring.

The other girls didn't care.

"You're glaring at Draco again." Millie yawned. "You might want to seem less annoyed."

"I'm sick of watching them drool over Granger." Pansy picked at the berries on her plate.

"She'll never make it through the war." Daphne shrugged. "Why should we bother ourselves?"

"What's there to do anyway?" Tracey glanced toward the Gryffindor table. "She doesn't even notice them."

Pansy nodded her head, but those words sat there, perched in her mind with some hidden importance. She glanced over at the leonine table and her eyes made contact with a pair of warm brown ones. Pansy smiled and noticed Hermione's lips twitch.

She didn't notice them. She never paid the Slytherin males any attention unless they wouldn't leave her be. Granger ignored them, but she had smiled just now.

Pansy grinned.

Granger didn't ignore her. Maybe she could get the Princess to notice her more often. She managed to downgrade her grin to a smirk. She needed some time to plan.

Pansy had stalked her prey for several days. Granger was actually interesting, and that was completely unexpected. She tutored the younger students of any house in any subject. The Slytherins only approached her on days when most of the house was planted in the stands watching the team practice. She never turned them away. Even when they asked crass questions, she smiled and answered. She always had extra sweets for them, but usually ate fruit because her parents didn't like her to eat empty, tooth rotting calories. Her muggle tooth healers weren't ready to adapt to spells being an option, so she respected them.

One of the Hufflepuff firsties brought her a bedraggled flower, and she charmed it and wore it the whole day. When Draco mocked her for it and praised the wizard that gave it to her for matching flower and witch so perfectly, she rolled her eyes. Pansy had fought the urge to hex him.

Incident after incident, she felt shame grow. The girl did nothing to provoke them. Granger might give as good as she got, and sometimes improve on it, but she was never the instigator.

Pansy fretted with the hem of her jumper as she stared into the library. She'd always assumed that Granger was just like everyone else, but she wasn't. She was kind and decent. She could twist a wicked hex when riled. She loved her parents and her fierce and frightening familiar. She'd followed Potter into some strange adventures if the rumors proved true, but she still sought peace.

Pansy shifted from foot to foot.

This had all gotten far too real.

A hand closed over her shoulder, and she whirled yanking her wand free of its pocket in her robes.

"You won't need that, Pansy." Neville Longbottom sighed and took a step back from her. "I'm not looking for a fight."

"Then why?" Pansy straightened her robes and dusted the shoulder he'd touched.

"She's my friend. Ron and Harry don't see her. She does all the work for them. She's kind and good. She's got a temper like a nesting dragon, and she's twice as dangerous." He met her eyes finally. "And, she's my friend. Always. Don't use her in some scheme or weird power play."

"She's too powerful to be used." Pansy shrugged. "Are you bonded?"

"No. That would be wonderful, but she needs more power than I have to balance her." Neville frowned. "She needs a triad."

"You think she'll wind up with Potter and the Weasel?" Pansy tilted her head.

"I think they would be the luckiest blokes alive, but it won't happen." Neville shoved his hands in his pockets. "Muggles view bonding differently. Hermione was shocked about marriage and bonding traditions in our society. She's probably researching it along with a million other things."

"And you're warning me off." Pansy smirked.

"No, I'm looking out for a friend." Neville rocked back on his heels. "We used to play together when we were both stuck waiting on the Wizengamot. I've never forgotten it."

"So, you expect me to believe you're worried about me." Pansy shook her head. "We weren't friends then and we aren't now."

"If you're playing some game and she gets hurt, it won't be a few tears and some angry words." Neville frowned. "You'll be hexed into the next century. Take a warning from an old acquaintance."

Pansy watched as Neville spun around and walked off. He saw a lot more than she'd ever realized.

"He should have been a Hufflepuff." Pansy shifted back and forth in indecision.

"He nearly was." Granger looked at her through narrowed eyes. "He chose to be a lion, just like I did."

"You heard everything?" Pansy felt her cheeks heat.

"Enough." Granger's eyes traced over her. It was disconcerting to be caught in her focus. "Caught you watching me a time or two. Thought you were plotting something."

"I was." Pansy slumped. "They all watch you. I didn't like it. You never even notice."

"I notice, but they want to use me and hurt me. They don't care." Hermione shook her head and set her curls to bouncing. "I need someone to care."

Pansy watched as Hermione Granger swung her bag onto her shoulder. This moment was ending, and she couldn't stand it. She knew there was something in this moment, some magic reaching out to her, and she grabbed it, or rather Granger's hand.