Brown hair, brown eyes, fair skin. She didn't think of herself as very much. Nothing at all actually; she was plain. Being plain has it's perks, and its downfalls. She didn't really get noticed, she didn't get cat called. There was no awkwardness with people asking for her number in public, no one ever asked for her number. Regardless of her appearances, she did have two amazing friends. That's what she kept telling herself, anyways. Harry and Ron have been off at quidditch practice a lot lately. They're not ignoring her, they're just busy. She was busy too, she just wasn't the happiest writing essays until 3 AM all by herself. They weren't drifting apart. She began to analyze her own behavior. She knew she was falling into a…funk. That's why she decided to start reassuring herself in her mind whenever she felt like she was going to…get upset. She didn't cry. She never cries. The last time she cried… Deciding that all of this thinking was of no use, she got up from her chair and collected her parchment and ink before walking back to her common rooms. As she was shuffling back, as quickly as possible in an attempt to avoid any human contact, she ran into him. Tall, blonde, and with a smirk only the devil himself could match.

"Malfoy."

"Granger."