Well, look who decided to upload a new chapter and continue on with their HP fanfic? ME!

Disclaimer: I do not, DO NOT, own Harry Potter or anything affiliated with it.

Paranoia Sets In

The next day at breakfast, I sat next to Fred and Harry while Hermione and Ron sat across from me bickering.

"Another week's worth?" Fred asked incredulously after Harry informed every one of his new detentions. I shook my head, before the year was over, Harry would surely have permanent scars. Unlike so many other students, he had a temper that he unleashed on Umbridge. I picked at my pancakes, not really hungry. Something else was on my mind as well – Draco Malfoy.

The night before, Hermione had called him disgusting. And maybe he was. But maybe he really wasn't. He was nice to me, but according to Hermione, Draco just saw me as a "conquest" – another girl to add to his list. Hermione had also shared some other disturbing news: people were enamored by me. I wasn't used to that. I didn't think of myself as ugly, I had gotten attention from boys before, but I had never been flirty like my friend Lauren. Where-as Lauren knew the male anatomy well, I had yet to even kiss more than two – and one of them was when I was eleven.

"Hey hey," as I heard these words, a finger poked my cheek. I looked up at the red-head sitting next to me with my eyebrows raised. "What's up with you?" Fred asked, his normal tone of comedy gone.

"Uh," I said, looking away from him and down at his plate that he had already devoured, "nothing."

"Hm," I wasn't looking at him, but I could imagine the thoughtful look on his face that he always had when he was thinking of the next funny thing to say, "how about you try actually saying that like you believe it, and maybe looking me in the face as well."

I looked away from the plate slowly and sheepishly raised my eyes to look at his face. "I've just got a lot on my mind," I said honestly.

Fred looked at me, and I was shocked when no joke came from his lips or a smile wasn't cracked. "Okay," he said calmly and then put some more hash browns on his plate. I looked back down at my plate, no interest left in pretending to eat. I stood up and said that I was going to run by the Common Room quickly and I'd see Harry, Ron, and Hermione in class. Leaving the Great Hall, the sounds of hundreds of laughing, happy voices filled my head, and I wondered just how many pairs of eyes were watching me leave.

The rest of the day passed in a blur. I was aware of Umbridge's watchful eye in a couple of my classes and engaging in small conversation with Hermione, but that was all. Mostly, all I could think about was the way others must see me. A mystery. Why was an American attending an English school? Was it really like Hermione had said it? Surely not. Surely no one looked at me, wanting to know me only because I was exotic. But the seed was planted. Who exactly thought of me this way? Which of my "friends" only cared about knowing my story or being the first to get the info on the new girl? I had never been cynical or paranoid, never jumped to conclusions about the way people were looking at me. In my life I was never in the spotlight, so it was odd to think that I could possibly be on people's minds.

After Defense Against the Dark Arts a couple of days later, I sat in the library with Harry, Hermione, and Ron. As I was writing an essay for History of Magic, Hermione was expressing her utter frustration with the class we had just left.

"Umbridge is insufferable, I cannot stand the woman. We aren't learning a thing! When we actually need to defend ourselves, we won't know how," she said exasperated.

"Humph," I grunted as I looked up from my parchment, "at least you've had some form of instruction in the past. My grandma didn't teach Defense much at all." I did, however, have excellent training in Potions.

"True," Hermione said quietly. "You know," I could hear in her voice that she was getting excited again, "Harry, you could teach us defense against the dark arts!"

"What?" Ron asked confused, "He can't exactly just take over the class from Umbridge."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Well, obviously. But he can teach us outside of class. We will have to know how to defend ourselves eventually. And honestly, who could possibly be a better teacher?"

I looked over at Harry for the first time. He was staring at Hermione with a look that I couldn't exactly read. "Hermione," Harry began, "I'm not a teacher."

Hermione huffed. "Harry - "

"No." Harry looked definite. Personally, I didn't think it was a bad idea, but Harry looked firm in his decision.

Knowing that I had to get my essays finished, I pushed the thought aside and looked back at my parchment. This one seemed complete, now time to retrieve my Ancient Runes work and finish it. After putting the essay in my bag, I looked for my Runes work. Ugh, I though inwardly as I remembered leaving it on my bunk after class.

I looked up at my three friends who seemed to have returned to their work. Ron seemed like he was struggling, Harry was blankly staring at a book – probably thinking about something else, and Hermione seemed frustrated as she worked. "I left some of my work on my bed, I'll be back later," I said as I stood up.

"Don't forget that Runes is due tomorrow," Hermione reminded me in a robotic voice. I think she sometimes forgot that I wasn't Harry or Ron and treated me the same when it came to things like schoolwork.

"Thanks," I said, not correcting her that I knew when my work was due. I left the library with my bag slung over my shoulder. As I was walking across the castle, something caught my attention – a blonde boy walking towards the Clock Tower. I stopped for a second; I could walk that way as well, talk to him. No. I continued on my way to the Gryffindor Common Room. I retrieved my books and left the Common Room to return to the library. However, my body started walking in a different direction. I was curious and I wanted to talk to him. After all, he had seemed interested in talking to me those other two times. I kept walking until I reached the tower.