Disclaimer:We don't own the Harry Potter series.

A/n: This is once again Creature 2, coming to you (not) live from the dark corners of FF.N This chapter is a mix of Creature 1 and myself's work. She wrote the first part, I wrote the last part, and then she added onto my section a little more, merely multiplying the genius f this work. XD

Disclaimer: We don't own the Harry Potter series.

Watch and See

By: Nocturnal Creatures

Chapter 1: Paranoia

Hermione awkwardly stumbled out of her potions classroom, frantically trying to juggle her books. Her petite arms simply couldn't wrap around all of those hard covers. Taking a few more steps, she then tripped on a stone tile that jutted out from the floor. Her books went flying from her arms, loud 'thuds' echoing throughout the ominous dungeons.

She roughly fell on her hands and knees. She looked down and noticed small beads of blood oozing from her knee cap. Pain shot through her. You're not going to cry. You're just a little emotional because that fall was a shock. Your knee does not -I repeat- NOT hurt! Now get up, Hermione, and walk it off! she thought to herself. How terribly foolish of you anyway! Carrying all of those books. . . . What were you thinking? After she finished scolding herself, she brushed off her knees, and enveloped her books in her arms.

Hermione walked a few steps further, and then stopped abruptly. She hated being in the dungeons, especially when she was by herself . . . which happened to be quite often lately. Since the beginning of the year, when she exited her advanced potions class, she felt paranoid.

She felt like she was being watched.

The brittle hairs on the back of her neck stood up at attention, and chills caressed her exposed arms and legs, letting goose bumps sprout from her naked skin. When she felt really paranoid, she could hear shuffles of footsteps and she could see a dark figure moving in and out of the shadows.

At times like that, her heart would stop. Where's your Gryffindor courage? she would ask herself as she bit her lip to stop it from trembling. Yes, she always despised times like that.

This was a time like that.

Where IS your Gryffindor courage, Hermione? Harry is not in Hogwarts anymore because he's looking for Voldemort's last horcruxes, and Ron is in the Gryffindor common room! You're all alone! No one is here to save you if something IS wrong! Hence the reason why you must be brave! she mentally shouted to herself. She clutched her books tighter in her arms and sprinted up the dungeon steps. She had to get out of there.

Slytherin territory was no place for a Gryffindor.

As she ran through the halls of Hogwarts, she thought she could hear footsteps running after her. She stopped, and slowly turned her head. It was deathly silent. Not a soul was in sight. She could only hear her erratic breathing from her hurried sprint.

She heard footsteps.

She looked around frantically for the source of the questionable sound, but she found no one. Snuggling the books to her chest, she decided to run again.

Hermione reached the common room a little while later. She was astonished by how out of breath she was. She felt like she was ready to collapse. Not surprisingly, she did. Ron and Harry were sitting next to the fireplace, their homework out in front of them messily with papers scattered in every direction. They really must learn some organization skills, she mused to herself. She flopped down in one of the large, plush armchairs near them. Harry, who was facing her, gave her a small nod. Ron was still frowning at his transfiguration homework.

"Can I tell you guys something?" she asked. They both nodded, though Ron didn't seem to be paying full attention, which annoyed Hermione more than a little. "Well, for the past couple of days-"

"Why the bloody hell do we have to know this?" Ron jabbed his finger at one of his books. "I mean, really. Everyone is so paranoid now that you-know-who is back! Always looking over their shoulders, thinking a Death Eater's right behind them, just waiting to hex them. I mean come on!" His eyes landed on Hermione and she felt blood rush to her face. That's what she was. Paranoid.

"Oh, sorry Hermione," he said, waving his quill at her. "You were saying something."

"Oh. It was nothing," she assured him hurriedly, and opened her potions book.

"Okay." Ron shrugged and turned back to his books. Harry's gaze lingered a little longer on her, but he too turned back to his work.

Hermione let herself relax when Harry looked away. It was just what Ron said. She was just being paranoid. Now that you-know-who was back (she really should stop calling him that. Seriously, Harry didn't, so why should she?) and trying to kill them, it didn't mean that someone was always watching her. She leaned back in the chair and closed her eyes. Lately, she had been so exhausted that she was barely able to finish her homework. She drifted off to sleep, the weight of her potions book heavy on her lap.

Harry yawned and stretched, glancing at the clock on the opposite wall. He was barely able to keep his eyes open, let alone finish his essay for Binns' class. He shut his book and looked at Ron.

"You going to bed?" Ron waved him off, eyeing his book reproachfully.

"Yeah, in a bit," he said. "I'm almost done." Harry shrugged and headed up to the dormitories. Ron shifted his attention from his finished essay to Hermione's sleeping form. After a moment, he lowered his gaze again. He shouldn't be doing that. She was his friend, Harry's friend, his little sister's friend. Most importantly, if she caught him looking at her like that, she'd hex him for sure.

But he couldn't help it. She'd been falling asleep in the common room a lot lately, and he couldn't help but watch her. When she was asleep, all the worry lines on her face vanished, and she wasn't looking at him like she wanted to pound his head in with one of her huge textbooks. When she was sleeping, she was just . . . beautiful. He sighed and got to his feet, lifting the heavy potions book out of her lap, and putting it on the table next to her. He hesitated, then grabbed a blanket and draped it over her, tucking it around her shoulders. Glancing around to make sure no one was watching, he smoothed a stray strand of her bushy hair back away from her face. As his hand brushed her cheek, she shifted, pressing her face into his hand.

He jumped back as though he'd been burned, and froze, trying to decide if she'd woken up or not. When she didn't make any move to hex him, he relaxed, letting out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. Bloody hell , he thought. If anyone finds out about this, I'm a toad for sure.

He saw that little Weasel touch her and scowled. He didn't know why, he just did. But she wasn't why he was there. Potter was. The Dark Lord had sent him back to Hogwarts for a reason, and that was to make sure little Potter stayed out of trouble, kept his nose where it belonged, and out of their business.

So why did Weasel-face touching her make him want to hex that stupid git? It didn't make sense. It didn't have anything to do with the Dark Lord's plans, so he had to push it to the back of his mind . . . for now.

"Hermione?" A small hand shook her shoulder gently. "Hermione!" Hermione blinked, bringing Ginny's face sharply into focus. "Have you been here all night?" Hermione glanced around to find herself still in the common room. Her potions book was gone, replaced with a blanket. She looked down at it and her stomach did a somersault. It was Ron's blanket, the one she had made him for his last birthday, after he'd told her he was tired of getting just sweaters. So she'd sat down with Mrs. Weasely and learned how.

She'd never forget the look on his face when he opened his present; Pure shock. As it turned out, she had quite a knack for knitting, so she'd made him an entire blanket. It was red, and had the Gryffindor lion in the center, with his name on a ribbon below it. He might have cracked a rib, he hugged her so hard.

"Hermione?" She looked back up at Ginny, and dropped the corner of the blanket, realizing that she was rubbing it absentmindedly.

"Yes?"

"Were you down here all night?" Hermione nodded, absently folding the blanket. "Hermione, I'm worried about you." Silently, Hermione nodded. "You haven't been yourself lately. I mean, you didn't even finish your potions homework on Monday!"

"I know," Hermione replied quietly. "Give me five minutes and I'll be ready to go to breakfast." She headed up to the girl's dorms, missing the shadow that ducked back up into the boy's staircase.

Ron held himself inside the boy's staircase until he was sure Hermione was gone. She hadn't finished her potions homework? That was unheard of! As long as he'd known her she had never not finished a single piece of homework.

Even he'd noticed differences in her. He wasn't that thick. He'd noticed that she'd been running later. She'd also stopped eating as much, and seemed less and less sure of herself as the year went on. She'd stopped answering in class, and finishing the teacher's sentences under her breath. She'd even stopped paying attention in History of Magic, and stopped taking notes in most of her classes.

In short, she'd stopped being the Hermione that they knew and . . . loved.

Hermione laid out on a bench in the courtyard, staring up at the sky. As the cloud finished passing over the sun, a shadow passed over her. She sat up quickly to see who was there, but there was no one else visible in the courtyard except herself. Shivering, even in the warm sun, she grabbed her bag and started to leave. As she reached the entrance, she looked back over her shoulder once more to find no one there. She turned back to the hall and ran straight into a hard body. She yelped in surprise, jumping backward. She tripped over the back of her robe and fell to the ground.

Ron eyed her warily as he stooped to pick up her textbooks which had been scattered when she'd fallen. "You all right, Hermione?" he asked. She swallowed nervously, and opened her mouth to tell him about her uneasiness, but then remembered his words from the night before. "Everyone is so paranoid now that you-know-who is back! Always looking over their shoulders, thinking a Death Eater's right behind them, just waiting to hex them. I mean come on! "

She shut her mouth and shrugged. "Just a little jumpy."

"I'd say more than a little," Ron said. "You heading down to lunch?"

"Yes," She said, reaching for her books. Ron, however, just turned and headed down to the great hall. "Ron!" After standing in the hall in surprise for a moment, she sprinted after him, holding her robes above her ankles, finally catching up to him.

"Ron! Give those back!" She exclaimed, making a grab for them. She just shrugged, and held her books up above his head, smirking.

"Get them then." She pulled out her wand, but he grabbed her hand, his larger one making it impossible for her to move her wrist properly.

"Ronald!" She glared at him. "Give them back!"

"As soon as you eat a proper lunch." She froze, staring at him. She hadn't thought that he'd noticed her lack of interest in eating.

"What?"

"You heard me," he said, and disappeared into the great hall. Hermione stared dumbly after him, but didn't really have a choice but to follow him. She needed her books.

She caught up with him again, halfway to the Gryffindor table, and grabbed his arm. "What is wrong with you?" she asked, snatching her books from a surprised Ron. Before he could make any sort of reply, she stalked off out of the hall. Several people stared after her, then looked back to Ron. The tips of his ears turned a brilliant red color and he quickly sat down next to Harry. He was resisting the urge to duck down under the table and wait until the rest of the school was finished eating.

"What was that all about?" Harry asked. Ron let his head fall down between his hands and hit the table with a loud thud.

"Just making an idiot of myself," he muttered. "Nothing new."

"What was Hermione so mad about then?"

"I don't know," Ron muttered. "I don't know."

Be nice, or we shall send our muffin minions after you to attack you with their cuteness!