A/N: I own none of this. J.K. Rowling owns all!

Hermione was unnerved. Sitting in the Great Hall for breakfast, she couldn't help noticing that HE kept stealing glances at her. She ran her hands through her hair to make sure that the bushiness was in check. Then she subtly ran her hands over her face to make sure that there wasn't something smudged on her nose. Nothing. Not one thing out of the ordinary.

There! He did again. What did he want?

"Hermione, are you alright?" Ron asked, seeming concerned.

Hermione shook her head, as if to shake off the uneasy feeling that crept over her. "I'm fine" she responded. She squeezed his hand and smiled in reassurance before looking back at her toast. But her appetite seemed to vanish as quickly as her doubts had appeared.

Was it just her imagination, or did she just see HIM whip his head around, a look of anger upon his face?

He was having issues.

He shouldn't be thinking about HER. Again.

Things had changed alright since the Dark Lord's downfall, but for him, things weren't all THAT different.

Not so different that he could finally act upon his growing fantasy.

If only that night in Malfoy manor hadn't happened. Then he wouldn't be so obsessed with the Muggle-born. But to see her in so much pain, yet still retain so much strength caused something inside of him to crack, letting her very essence slip into his long-suffering soul.

He made eye contact before looking away again. This was wrong. She was with the Weasel King, and it seemed as though they were happy. Didn't he want her to be happy?

His head said yes, even if it meant that it wasn't with him; but his heart said something different as he watched her touch the Weasel's hand. Something in the pit of his stomach reared in protest, actually causing his face to twist into a painful mask. He looked away before he saw too much. Before she saw too much.

Hermione was still trying to get her head on straight as she, Ron, and Harry walked to Transfiguration together. She was silent, while Ron and Harry carried on about unimportant things. Hermione was still getting used to not having pivotal conversations on an almost hourly basis. For once, it seemed as if they would be able to behave like normal teenagers. With that, Hermione's thoughts drifted even further, allowing her once again to think about how HE kept looking at her during breakfast. She was still puzzled. What could he possibly want from her? To torture her further?

"Earth to Hermione." Harry sing-songed in front of her, waving his hand in before her face.

Hermione started. "Sorry guys."

Ron looked somewhat concerned. "You seem to be going off into your own world a lot lately. Not liking the one you're in right now?" He smiled shly at her, and it made her heart melt a little.

Hermione smiled. "Not at all." She leaned in and gave him a quick kiss on the lips. It felt nice. Being with Ron felt…. familiar. Safe. Comforting. Something that Hermione hadn't felt for a long time.

Harry laughed. "Don't make me tell you lot to get a room."

Hermione giggled. "You won't ever have to worry about that." Ron groaned.

At that moment the Transfiguration classroom door opened, and Professor McGonagall ushered them all inside. Hermione smiled and for the second time that day, gave herself a little shake, removing the remnants of this morning's uneasiness and a certain blonde-haired Slytherin who had managed to creep into her thoughts.