Disclaimer: Owned by J.K. Rowling. I wonder what I'd do if Harry Potter never existed...-shudder- Gah, the thoughts of all the free time terrify me! XD

Author Notes: Err...Well, based on a certain viewpoint. Let's see if you can guess, there's probably only one or two clues as to who she is. Really quite unlike her, I have to get more practice writing from her POV. XD As I promised, a few drabbles and a longer story currently in progress. Mmkay then.


She liked watching people. After all, it was one of the things she did best. Sometimes they noticed her, and she'd get perplexed looks thrown her way, a frown here or there – but mostly, it seemed as if she didn't exist, and that suited her just fine. People were funny things, much more interesting than Crumple-Horned Snorkacks or Blibbering Humdingers. One could learn so much about a person by simply looking at them, analyzing them for awhile. So she sat and watched quietly from the corner of the class, or on a bench in the Great Hall, absent-mindedly chewing her food and observing students mingling everywhere.

Take that girl, Hermione Granger, for example. She knew that that one was considered a general bookworm, and such – on top of their year, and not even a Ravenclaw! She liked that. Changed things about a little. But there was so much that no one else ever noticed about her! Everybody took her brains for granted, but she had seen the studious girl bent over her books, day and night, dark circles under her eyes, constantly muttering incantations, quill never at rest. She was faithful to her friends, deathly faithful, no matter how much trouble it brought her. It took a lot of hard work, yet somehow she managed it all, hiding her tired yawns and worrisome frowns under bright smiles that she offered to everyone. Rather worthy of respect, that one was.

Not even those friends of hers noticed anything. Ron Weasley was constantly occupied with Quidditch, and Chocolate Frog Cards, and his occasional bouts of flaming rage. (Quite amusing at such times, not that she'd ever admit that.) She saw the way he was constantly worrying about everything, even though he tried to mask it up with his usual bravado. There was nothing wrong with not having too much gold, was there? She heard that renegade Nibblers chose to sometimes take up residence in vaults teeming with gold, so he should have been quite relieved. Vicious things, they were, almost as greedy as some people. He was fed, and happy, and healthy, and his parents must've been simply wonderful to bring up seven children the way they did! And he was always trying to make a name for himself, feeling overcast by Harry and Hermione's shadows – the Wonder-Boy and the Genius-Girl. She raised her eyebrows, watching Ron call out to his friends and wave them over. Why didn't he simply accept, and try to excel at what he was best at? Yet it was not her place to judge. What would happen, would, and she'd watch from the sidelines.

A loud bout of laughter caught her attention, and her glance slid smoothly, resting on a pale blond head smack dab in the middle of a crowd of Slytherins. The boy held something squirming in his hands, and poked it with his wand every few moments, causing the creature to squeal as it was showered by sparks. Right before her eyes, Professor McGonagall marched to Draco Malfoy, and removing the animal from his hands, began to sternly reprimand him. As soon as she was gone, Draco seated himself on the bench, nodding and smirking rebelliously at his comrades. It was always...interesting watching him. He was predictable in so many ways, yet completely surprising in others. He made sure that all the eyes were on him when he walked into a room, that he captivated everyone's minds with a certain obscure charm. He had worked for years, meticulously establishing his reputation, and making sure that he up-held it perfectly every moment of every day. No one knew that he was almost as serious about his intellectual pursuits as Hermione, that he absolutely adored his eagle-owl and that he was probably more interested in attending to his hair then quarreling with Harry Potter. Yet quarrel he did, because it was expected of him, and he was simply playing out his part just like he was supposed to. No one knew that, except herself.

Weren't they all just playing out their parts, after all? Like actors with life-long scripts that they unknowingly assisted in writing. Harry Potter had a big role in life, one he had not chosen willingly, but rather one that was forced upon him until he was sure that he himself had decided to accept it. Playing out the part of the hero, the knight in shining armor here to save them all. Everyone accepted this as a given, what else could he be here for? No one saw him for what he really was – a child, with a burden to carry, a mission to accomplish. Dumbledore, Hogwarts, and the entire wizarding world took him for granted, and were sure of his success. Only he and she knew that perhaps, he wouldn't. There was a chance, and a rather good one at that, that he would let them down. Not on purpose, of course! But how could everyone place the future on his small shoulders? So Harry smiled. He smiled, and he followed the script carefully, as if he was born to do so. He carried the beacon of hope, carefully, with the shining faces of his faithful followers behind him, who believed him to be invincible, when he knew that he could trip at any moment. There was no telling as to how the story would end, it was unpredictable, no matter what anyone else said. One could only follow and guess...That's why she liked watching him best of all.

This maze, all these people, weaving amongst themselves, each with a role in this life, surrounded her. Everything seemed clear as daylight, yet felt unreal. She felt like a bystander, watching bright pictures on the screen, a story unfolding before her very eyes, her fellow students the main actors, their individual lines flowing together, dazzling, and forming an ever-changing tapestry of lives. Surrounded by the shadows, she watched. Sometimes, it felt like she didn't exist at all.