Title: Stalker

Summary: Hermione Granger is absolutely sure that Draco Malfoy is stalking her. He's there wherever she is and she's sick of it. Problem is, Draco keeps saying that he isn't. Who's telling the truth?

Disclaimer: Don't own anything.

(A/N: Here's a little story that was just sitting on my computer.)

Hermione was livid. She wouldn't be surprised if she had steam coming out of her ears. She slammed the door behind her as hard as she could as she glared at the uninvited person a few feet away from her.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" she asked angrily. The person is front of her had his hands in his pockets as he smirked arrogantly at the fuming woman.

"A little wet, Granger?" he drawled, his smirk growing.

"A little" was an understatement. Hermione was soaked through and through. It was clear that she had walked home through the rain. A small puddle was forming around her, her red carpet soaking in the water.

"Get out," she ordered, ignoring his little comment.

She pointed a finger towards the door, her eyes daring him to object. It was clear by the expression on her face that she would have enjoyed Rita Skeeter's company better than his. Consequences would quickly follow if the blonde man didn't leave, judging by her tone of voice. But the young man stood his ground, leaning on the staircase with a bored look on his face. He brushed Hermione's demand with a small wave of his hand as if she was asking if he wanted to take a walk outside.

"No thanks. I'm starving. Do you have anything to eat? You're not as poor as Weasel, are you? You can afford food, can't you?" taunted Draco Malfoy, inwardly grinning at the scowl on Hermione's face.

She opened and closed her mouth several times, not knowing what to say. She was beyond angry. She couldn't stand another minute of this.

Who does he think he is? she thought in disbelief as she watched Draco enter inside her kitchen without her permission. She wasn't exactly surprised that he knew the way to her kitchen.

Draco's smirk widened when he reached the kitchen. Hermione quickly followed him, suspicious of him of break something just to drive her crazy.

"My closet is bigger than this," he noted conceitedly as he picked up a wooden spoon from the counter and carelessly threw it on the ground. That's when Hermione snapped.

"Malfoy, would it kill you to be civil in someone's house? Most importantly when the owner of the house doesn't want you here?" yelled Hermione, her patience balancing on the edge of a knife. She quickly snatched the wooden spoon off the ground.

Not bothering to even look at her, Draco sat down on the chair, tapping his fingers against the table.

"I'm hungry," he whined childishly, examining his fingernails.

Wooden spoon in hand, Hermione fantasized hitting it on top of his head.

Maybe then he could leave, she thought, glaring holes at the back of his head. I need him gone by five o'clock.

Draco turned his head so that he was facing Hermione, giving her an impatient look

"Would you get to work already? I don't smell any cooking," he said.

Hermione's fantasy finally came true as the wooden spoon connected with the back of his head. Draco let out a cry of pain, both of his hands clutching his head. He swore quite violently which managed Hermione to blush.

"Malfoy, get out of my house! I never invited you inside my home, my parents' home or even my grandparents' home! I have no idea how you found their address and I don't think that I want to know. Never do I want to see your face ever again," declared Hermione.

She was still red in the face; partially because of the words Draco had chosen to yell in her kitchen and partially because of all the yelling.

"I never really considered you the violent type, Granger. Guess I was wrong. You're lucky that you're a girl or else you'd be lying on the ground," said Draco, massaging his head, glaring at Hermione.

"Shut up," she said, pushing the guilt away.

He deserves it. I shouldn't feel guilty for doing anything to him, she thought.

"I think you need to calm down before your neighbors come over. And I have no idea why you're talking," said Draco, still massaging his head.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about. You're stalking me, Malfoy!" cried Hermione in frustration while Draco grinned lazily.

"Like I said before, I have no idea what you're talking about," he said casually.

"Oh really? Then is it a coincidence that you're at the place where I work, or you're at my house before I'm there, or you're reading my mail before I get the chance to, or that you always seem to be right behind me when I'm going shopping?" snapped Hermione, hands on her hips. Her eyes were gleaming dangerously.

"Of course it is a coincidence," smirked Draco, "but now that I think about it, it does seem that you follow me wherever I go,"

Draco received another hit with the wooden spoon.

"Granger, would you stop that with that stupid spoon!" cried Draco, standing up, knocking the chair down. He glared down at her, pleased that she had to look up at him. She barely reached his neck.

"No I will not stop, because you keep disturbing my privacy. You know that what you're doing is against the law," roared Hermione angrily, trying once more to hit him with the spoon, forgetting that it would have been easier to use her wand.

"Stop hitting me with the spoon!"

"Get out of my house!"

"Let go of the spoon!"

"No!"

"Yes!"

"No!"

The pointless argument continued as Draco wrestled the wooden spoon out of Hermione's grasp. He finally raised the weapon that was causing the pounding in his head, high over his head, a victorious smile on his face.

"I win," he stated, looking down at Hermione.

Hermione suddenly looked very tired and defeated. She walked right past Draco and picked up the fallen chair. Sitting on it, she sighed and covered her face with her hands. She sat like that for a few minutes.

Draco stared at her in surprise. He had been expecting a very different reaction, something along the lines of her throwing a kitchen knife or anything within her reach. But seeing her tired, just sitting glumly in her pitiful small kitchen (Draco's description), Draco felt the smallest, tinniest sympathy for her.

The spoon's probably her most prized possession and I took it from her. She thinks that she'll never have it again, he thought, examining it in his hand. It wasn't anything special. It was brown and…that was about it. There wasn't even a hint of silver or gold and definitely lacking any diamonds or other jewelry.

Maybe Weasel gave it to her as a present or a token of his love, he thought and snorted at the idea. But it would make sense.

So Draco carefully put the spoon down on the table, right in front of Hermione. He waited for a moment but nothing happened.

"Granger, I gave you your spoon back. You don't have to cry now," he said.

Hermione ignored him.

What the hell is he talking about? Maybe I did hit him hard after all, she thought.

"Granger, the spoon is on the table," said Draco impatiently, his voice rising.

"Don't you raise your voice in my house!" snapped Hermione, as she glared at him between her fingers.

Maybe if I pretend to cry, he'll leave me alone, she thought. It's worth the try.

So Hermione let out a dry sob, her shoulders shaking, giving the exact impression she wanted. Draco stared dumbfounded at her.

Why is she crying now? I returned the spoon for crying out loud! he thought. Little did he know, it was all a plan.

Hermione's sob became louder and louder until Draco flinched at the volume.

How can she cry so much? What's there to cry about? Nobody died, he thought, wishing he could be anywhere else but inside a kitchen with a sobbing Hermione Granger. Well, there's no way in hell that I'm going to hug her.

End of chapter 1

(A/N: Well, I don't know if this is going to be a long story or a short one, still haven't decided yet. And yes, there is a reason as to why Draco is stalking Hermione, which be explained later on. Some feedback would be very nice! )