A/N: Everything in this, with the exception of the stuff you don't recognize, belongs to JK Rowling and her genius.

Chapter Two: Confrontation

Hermione awoke in a cold sweat. It had been a long time since she'd had a really vivid dream, and even longer since she'd had a nightmare, but one had definitely just woken her up. She wasn't sure how long the dream had lasted, but it was long enough to scare her. Recalling the violent scene, a shiver of fear ran down her spine. "I really need to stop listening to Harry."

Crawling to the end of her bed, she reached down and pulled the runes book out of her bag. It hadn't been exactly what she'd needed, but the book was interesting nevertheless. Besides, she knew that if she went back to sleep there was always a chance she'd start dreaming again, and she didn't like those odds.

She futilely tried to read, but every time she even blinked she saw the eerily placid gray eyes of Malfoy as he raised a wand to her chest. Luckily she had woken up before he'd said anything, but she knew what he'd been about to say. She shuddered again. In about three hours she had a potions lesson with Malfoy just across the room and she really wasn't looking forward to it.

It was the first time in her life that she seriously considered skipping class.

"Draco!" Pansy whispered harshly, and apparently not for the first time.

In his start, Draco spilt the contents of the small vile he held in his hand. "Damn it, Parkinson, look what you made me do."

"Well, I had to stop you somehow!" her brow furrowed, causing an unpleasant effect across her face.

"Stop me from what?" he spat.

"Ruining your reputation! You were staring at Granger!"

His eyes widened incredulously. "I was?"

Hayden Gaige, a fellow Slytherin, snorted from his other side, "Oh, yeah."

Uh oh. If Pansy and Hayden had both noticed, chances were they weren't the only ones. Damn, this was the third time this week! And it was getting worse; he couldn't seem to get his eyes off of her! Whenever he entered class or the Great Hall, he immediately started searching for her. He was even spending time in the library! She had definitely done something to him, and it was right time he found out what it was. But most importantly: how to stop it.

Luckily though, he didn't have to see her until lunch that day. Today he was determined not to look for her, or think about her at all.

Hermione shifted uncomfortably on the bench. Lunch was slowly becoming the worst part of her day. She tried to ignore the fact that she was under the close, and seemingly constant scrutiny of Malfoy, but it was hard to carry on as usual when he kept looking at her. Not only had her horrifying nightmares persisted; Malfoy almost made her terror come to life. As if he was waiting for the precise moment to pounce.

Ginny glanced at the perturbed expression on Hermione's face. "Is he at it again?" she asked with concern.

"Yes! He's been doing it all week!" she groaned in a frustrated sigh. "I've a right mind to curse him."

"I could do it," Ginny offered. "Slughorn seems to think I'm great at curses." She rolled her eyes in an effort to cheer up her friend.

"I'm sorry, Ginny, I just can't take this." She took one last drink of her pumpkin juice and shouldered her bag. "I'll be in the library."

"Bye," she bid to her friend's back.

"What was that about?" Ron asked from across the table.

"Malfoy has been staring at her all week and it's making her nervous," she explained. From the bench where Harry and Ron sat they couldn't see Malfoy as he kept close watch on their table. At the moment, though, he was watching Hermione as she left the hall. He waited a while before standing; Ginny could almost see the debate in his cold eyes. Her stomach lurched as he moved toward the door. "Oh, no you don't." she muttered.

"What?" Harry asked with alarm.

"It's Malfoy; I bet he's following Hermione. You little weasel." her eyes narrowed at his retreating figure as she stood up to follow.

Hermione saw the long red braid hanging over a chair as soon as she walked into the library and immediately went to it. She sighed as she set her bag on the table, "I'm glad to see you."

Zofia looked up compassionately. "You don't think he followed, do you?" she whispered, knowing what caused her disconcertment.

As if she had predicted, Malfoy swept into the huge room and glanced around the tables. Hermione fell onto the chair and hid her face. "He won't stop! It's as if he's trying to do something to me!"

Zofia glared at him from her chair. Even though she'd only known Hermione for a week, and she was a year older than Zofia herself, she still felt very protective of her new friend. And the fact that Malfoy was the cause of the discord only added fuel to her fire. "He's coming over here," she warned in a low whisper.

"Might I have a word, Granger?" he asked in feigned pleasantness.

"No," she answered flatly.

His demeanor changed instantly. "Listen, Mudblood–"

"Malfoy," she hissed through clenched teeth. "if you really want to talk to me you might try asking nicely!"

His eyes widened at her retort, "I did! You said no!"

Oh, yeah. She immediately regained her wit. "Well, then let this be a lesson in tenacity."

Without warning he violently grabbed Hermione's wrist and pulled her to her feet. "I'll teach you a lesson" he sneered, centimeters from her face.

But it wasn't long before he noticed the two wands pointed at his chest. "If I were you, I'd let go," Ginny said calmly and quietly, so as not to draw attention to the scene.

Draco smirked at them. "Or what?" he asked in a tone that betrayed his fear.

"Do you really want to find out, Malfoy?" Zofia asked acidly.

Realizing his defeat, he relinquished his grip and muttered a few insults as he walked away.

Hermione collapsed onto the chair and Zofia and Ginny raced to her side. "Are you okay?" they asked in unison.

"I'll live," she smiled at her friends pathetically. "Remind me why I don't just kill him?"

"Because you'll be expelled," Zofia reminded her.

"Right," she sighed dejectedly.

Ginny turned to Zofia. "Who are you?" she inquired.

"Zofia Ruskaya, Ravenclaw." She held out a hand to Ginny.

"Ah, yes, we have transfiguration together. Ginny Weasley," she said, shaking her hand.

Zofia smiled in a way that meant she already knew. Hermione looked up at Ginny in confusion. "How did you get here?"

"I saw him follow you, so I followed him. Good thing I did," she smiled at Zofia. "No offense."

"So, what are we going to do about this?" Hermione asked timidly from her chair. She was obviously shaken.

"We can't let you be alone, unless you're in the common room," Ginny suggested thoughtfully.

The three of them sat around the table and began to devise a schedule of bodyguards for Hermione. Of course, they'd have to have Harry and Ron do a great deal of it since they had classes with her. When she had none of them around, generally Malfoy wasn't either, but Hermione decided that she would take the main halls to all of her classes, so even if he were around he wouldn't have any chances of getting her alone.

Hermione didn't feel completely safe as she walked down to the Quidditch pitch, Zofia at her side, but she tried to let the excitement she felt override her fear. Since Harry, Ron and Ginny were all on the team; Zofia was on duty for the match.

It had been a week since the library, and Draco hadn't tried anything since, but his stare had yet to cease. Much to Hermione's chagrin neither had her nightmares. It wasn't like her to be paranoid and scared, but after his episode in Borgin and Burkes, and a sufficient amount of Harry's ranting, she felt her fear was justified.

The two ascended the steps to the stands where they would watch the match. Hermione felt a surge of Gryffindor pride as she joined her fellow supporters, which consisted of Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws as well.

But before the match even began, Hermione started to feel familiar cramps creep into her abdomen. Rolling her eyes, she turned to Zofia with a distressed look. "I have to go back to the castle," she whispered hurriedly.

"Oh, okay, I'll go with you."

Hermione smiled. "That's okay, really. If I'm safe at anytime it's during a Quidditch match."

Zofia looked at her questionably.

"Draco's on the team," she explained. "I'll be okay." Hermione tried to disturb the least amount of people she possibly could as she left the stadium and walked back to the deserted school. Running to the Gryffindor tower, she quickly got the things she needed and took a swig of the special potion Madam Pomfrey had given her.

In her haste to get back to the match, she decided to take a couple short cuts. The only problem was that when she took them during school, she was with other students; consequently, she got lost. Only when she was in a corridor on the seventh floor, across from dancing trolls, did she realize where she was.

All of the sudden, someone came around the corner. Hermione's heart sped up as soon as she recognized the tall figure. He walked toward her, head down in thought, not noticing that anyone was there. "Malfoy?"

His head shot up at his name. "Granger?" he sneered. "What're you doing?"

Her eyes widened in utter shock. "Me?" she squeaked. "What are you doing? You're supposed to be in the match right now!"

The reality that Hermione was in position to get him in a great deal of trouble completely escaped his mind. His stomach involuntarily clench and he felt nervousness tantamount to what he felt before a match. The only thing he could focus on was the fact that, for once, they were actually alone. There wasn't anyone around to interrupt them, in truth; there wasn't anyone around at all. This was his chance to get to the bottom of his infatuation.

Without completely thinking it through, He took a firm grasp on her wrist and pulled her along as he paced in front of the wall. Hermione futilely yelled at him as he mumbled, "I need a private room," three times.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Hermione's look of horror when the door appeared. Not taking any care to be gentle, he flung her into the room and blocked the exit.

"Are you mad? What do you think you're doing!?" she screamed, sounding a whole lot braver than she looked. She looked absolutely petrified.

"I'm going to ask you a question and it would be in your best interest to be honest," he said slowly as if he were speaking to a child. "Did you give me a love potion, or put me under some sort of spell?"

Hermione's look of terror turned to comic shock. She crossed her arms and shook her head. "You have some ego. Give me one good reason why I would even waste the Knuts."

He smirked, small and subtle. He had a few good reasons why she would give him something; unfortunately, they gave too much away. That would be detrimental to his task. "Because you want me," he leaned back on the door and crossed his arms, "and you'll do anything to get me."

She gave him an unladylike snort, "I cannot believe this. I don't like you at all; in fact, I probably hate you. No," she corrected herself, "I do hate you."

The smirk fell from his face and began to walk toward her. As much as he hated to admit it, what she'd said had hit a nerve. "Well, you must have done something to me because I can't stop thinking about you!" he yelled angrily, and immediately regretted it. He could almost see her heart shatter in her eyes. Draco didn't even try to stop her as she ran past him, slamming the door in her wake.