Hermione had never felt more watched. It was a strange feeling, like someone was seeing everything you were doing and their intent was completely unknown to you. No matter where she went, she couldn't shake the feeling. It was as if that person just happened to be everywhere she was. . . . In fact, that was exactly it. That person really was everywhere she tried to go. It was awkward, yes, but what could she say? Even if she hated the person, it was a bit uncomfortable accusing them of stalking to their face, and it might embarrass them . . . and she was the better person. She couldn't do that, not when other people where around.

She tried desperately to keep her gaze fixed on the Potions essay she was writing. It didn't help that the library was always so quiet. Of course, it helped her study, but it just added to the feeling of discomfort, and she couldn't focus on the homework anyway. The feeling of being watched was too distracting to focus on anything at all, really.

She wondered if they had something to say to her. Something that was important . . . for them, anyway. She briefly went through the list of people that might have a bone to pick with her in her mind. The person didn't seem like they wanted her to notice them. Whenever she would gain the nerve to look up and see if she could make eye contact with them, they were gone.

As she began to pack up her homework (knowing that the Gryffindor common room ― although occasionally loud ― would shake the person if they weren't in that House), she hoped that maybe the person would just show their face and get it all over with . . . or maybe she'd have to find them first.

She slung her book bag around her shoulder, her eyes darting to where she last felt the other person's gaze was coming from; it was from behind a bookshelf, a few rows down from where she was seated to work. Maybe she wouldn't go to the Gryffindor common room just yet. The person wasn't looking anymore, but if she moved quickly, she might catch them before they leave. . . .

She did a strange sort of half-tiptoe, half-run towards the person's location, careful not to make any sounds that would certainly not be allowed in the library. As she hurried down the aisle, she thought that she caught a glimpse of a grey skirt around a corner.

Okay, so it's a girl.

She sped up, praying that the person wouldn't leave the library and get lost in the sea of Hogwarts students in the corridors. She could now see the girl from behind. She had long, brunette hair, she knew that much, but she couldn't see any evidence of what House she was in. It didn't matter at this point. She was positive that it was the same person who had been staring at her all day. . . .

She sprinted, rather silently, until she caught up with the girl. The girl didn't show any signs of stopping; Hermione gently gripped her arm and turned her around, so she could get a glimpse of her face. The upturned nose and permanently irritated expression were unmistakable.

It was Pansy Parkinson.

"What the hell, Granger?" Pansy hissed, wearing a look that suggested that she'd give anything to be anywhere else right now.

"I might ask you the same thing," Hermione whispered, with an equally poisonous tone. "Why have you been watching me all day?"

Pansy's eyes drifted aside, and Hermione's grip on her arm tightened slightly.

"I haven't been," said Pansy, with a small shrug. "You always assume it's me, don't you?"

"You were just there," said Hermione. "You were watching me. I know you were. I just want to know why."

Pansy rolled her eyes. "Well, if you'd let go of me, then I'll explain."

"And you won't run away?" Hermione asked.

"I promise," Pansy said, with a rather sarcastic air. "Why would I run away if I wanted to ask you something, anyway? But could we . . . could we maybe go . . . somewhere else?"

Hermione slowly removed her hand from Pansy's arm, but kept her eyes on Pansy all the same. Pansy's agitated expression soon turned into one of apparent nervousness.

"You can't just tell me here?" Hermione asked.

"Oh, for Merlin's sake," Pansy sighed. "Fine."

Pansy now grabbed Hermione's arm, practically dragging her over to a corner of the library. She pushed her into the wall, but not as hard as Hermione thought that she might like to.

"I don't think you noticed," said Pansy, through gritted teeth, "but I saw you two this morning."

"I ― I beg your pardon?" said Hermione.

Pansy rolled her eyes again. "You know what I'm talking about, Granger. You and Draco, talking like ― a bit like ― like friends." She looked disgusted, as if the words tasted foul in her mouth.

"Like friends," Hermione repeated slowly. She shook her head and looked Pansy in the eyes. "Look, Pansy. I'm not the slightest bit interested. How many times do we have to have this conversation before you realize that I really could care less about Malfoy?"

"Well, you don't do a very good job of showing it," Pansy snarled. "Not that he'd ever go for a Mudblood like you, obviously . . . his tastes are too good for that."

Hermione snorted. "All that 'good taste' and he's dating you?"

Pansy put her hands on Hermione's shoulders, gripping them tightly. "I don't want a fight, Granger. I just want you to listen to me. I've told you before that I want you to stay away from him. Do you understand me?"

"Well, if he'd never go for a mudblood like me, then why are you so worried?" Hermione asked.

Pansy's eyes widened, her gaze darting frantically about the room, trying to look at anything but Hermione. "I ― he wouldn't ― I don't know ― it's you, Granger, I know it ― all girls have their ways ― I don't know ―"

Hermione gave her a sweet, but almost deadly smile, interrupting Pansy's stammers immediately. "I think it might interest you to know that he initiated the conversation this morning, Pansy."

Pansy looked at her now, thoughtfully. "There were napkins, I saw. He was cleaning something that you spilled. . . . What did you throw at him?"

Hermione laughed. "Throw at him? As if he was cleaning his shirt of my mess or something? No, Pansy, he was cleaning a mess that he made of my things."

"He'd never clean your things up, even if he ―"

"But he did, and it was rather nice, actually," said Hermione.

Pansy seemed at a loss for words. "If I ask him, he'll tell me what really happened ―"

"Are you really going to ask him, though?" Hermione asked. "Don't you think it would turn him off just a tad to hear that you were watching what he was doing? He might think that you're stalking him, and I know you wouldn't want that. No boy I know wants a girl who stalks him."

The two girls stared each other down for a few moments. Hermione had never felt so powerful . . . it was a great feeling. She decided she'd have to try talking like this more often. As she registered this new sensation in her mind, her gaze drifted over Pansy's shoulder and landed on a pair of familiar figures that were a bit further off.

"Another thing that you might find interesting," said Hermione, breaking the silence, "is that I'm not the only girl he seems to talk to when you're not around."

Pansy looked over her shoulder, acknowledging what Hermione had seen. She was dumbstruck. Her eyes widened almost immediately at the sight, and she looked back to Hermione quickly, as if to check if it was real or not.

Malfoy was leaned up against a wall of the library, in a place that was not easily visible unless you were standing near where Pansy and Hermione now stood. Beside him was Charlotte, who appeared to be saying multiple things that were making him laugh. Hermione noticed ― and assumed that Pansy did as well ― that Charlotte was frequently laying her hand on Malfoy's arm, or letting her fingers drift to her hair, or biting her lip slightly. Malfoy didn't seem bothered in the slightest . . . and why should he? He was dating Pansy, and this was an obvious improvement.

Still, Hermione was also a bit shocked, although slightly amused at Pansy's utter bewilderment. She never thought of Malfoy as a cheater . . . well, maybe she did. He did seem like the type, now that she thought of it. But to act like this so openly was probably more shocking.

Maybe he wanted Pansy to see him with another girl.

But that'd just make his life hell. She'd just nag him about it, and spread nasty rumors, and this kind of freedom wasn't worth that price. No, it probably wasn't intended for Pansy to see. Malfoy didn't exactly appear to be flirting back, did he? He was just being polite, or maybe Charlotte just happened to be really funny. . . . She was the one that was doing all of the flirting, really. She seemed romantically interested. Hermione wasn't quite sure how she felt about that.

She knew that Charlotte refused to sit with the other Slytherins at the last Quidditch game . . . but Malfoy wasn't there that day. Maybe she would've sat with him, had he been there. Hermione began to wonder just how long this crush had lasted . . . and why she even cared in the first place.

"That girl's a blood traitor," said Pansy, startling Hermione out of her thoughts. "You can tell. I'm pretty sure she's a pureblood, but she seems pretty sympathetic with . . . with you, actually." She examined Hermione for a moment. "Maybe . . . maybe it's not you who's flirting with him, is it?"

"Now you get it?" Hermione said, exasperated.

Pansy looked as if she just had an epiphany. "So you've been . . . that's why you've been talking to Draco! You're not trying to date him, after all! You're just setting him up with Charlotte!" She ignored Hermione's stammers of protest, now eying Charlotte with a dangerous look. "You're friends with her, aren't you? And I bet you've gotten to know Draco pretty well on these shifts, haven't you? You thought that they'd be perfect together ―"

"Pansy, I promise, I didn't set them up!" Hermione near-squealed, causing Pansy to look at Hermione curiously. Hermione immediately lowered her voice. "They're not even hugging, or snogging, or anything that might even suggest that they're seeing each other! They're just talking ―"

"I'm going to go talk to him," Pansy huffed, as she turned towards the pair to greet them, in what Hermione expected to be a rather harsh way.

Hermione tagged behind her, unsure of what in the world compelled her to do so. "No, Pansy, you can't do that, there'll be a fight and something bad ―"

Hermione was cut off once again, this time simply by a face. Draco was looking at Hermione with a slightly agitated expression. She wasn't sure at all what he was upset about, but wasn't going to ask him in front of a group.

It must've been a peculiar sight; three Slytherins and a Gryffindor, all staring at each other, all unsure of what to say. Thankfully, Charlotte seemed to gain the courage to speak first, after she had backed away from Draco a bit.

"Draco and I were just discussing Quidditch," she said, smiling. "You know, with all of the games coming up, it seemed like a nice topic for conversation. . . . But did you need something, Pansy? . . . Oh, hello, Hermione," Charlotte added, after noticing that she was there.

Hermione smiled weakly and turned to Pansy, who currently had her arms folded and was glaring at Malfoy. "I just saw a couple of my friends talking together and I thought I might join the conversation," she said, through gritted teeth.

"Oh, of course!" said Charlotte. The smile on her face didn't fade at all, even with Pansy's clearly negative attitude. "Were you and Hermione talking just now? I didn't think that you were friends ―"

"We're not," Pansy snarled. Finally catching herself being rude to a fellow Slytherin in front of Draco, she took a few moments to calm down slightly. "I just had something to ask her, that's all. Trivial things."

As the two girls went on lying to each other about conversations that never exactly went in that direction, Hermione happened to glance at Malfoy. His face looked blank, if not a little bored, like this was just usual behavior from girls that he had to deal with. His gaze remained fixed on Pansy as she was rambling about an imaginary Divination question that she had for Hermione, which mostly anyone else could tell was a lie simply by the fact that Hermione didn't even take Divination. Still, Charlotte seemed convinced from the looks of it, and Malfoy didn't seem to have any inclination to interrupt.

Hermione just remained silent for fear that speaking would just make matters worse for everybody. The last thing she wanted was a fight; the consequences could be terrible. Charlotte began to speak about how she had never really seen Hermione in Divination, but was sure that she must know lots about it from her sheer intelligence. Malfoy's gaze began to lazily drift from Pansy to Charlotte, but seemed to stop midway, where Hermione was standing, facing him.

He locked eyes with Hermione briefly, before she looked away as quickly as she could, desperately searching for some vaguely interesting object that she could distract herself with. But she couldn't help it, and her eyes drifted up to his again, so that she could see his new expression.

Instead of showing boredom from the nearly-catty conversation, his brows were furrowed, as if in thought. He looked at Hermione like she was from a different planet. He looked around, seemingly unsure of what to do and how to react; react to what, Hermione didn't know, but he seemed confused by something. He made eye contact with her again, and looked as if he was attempting to conceal a smirk.

Suddenly, Pansy took Malfoy's arm and began to lead him and Charlotte off and out of the library. Charlotte had whispered a sort of goodbye to Hermione, who simply nodded in response.

Hermione now leaned against the same wall that Malfoy had a few minutes before and peered into the window nearby, wondering if she looked different and he was reacting to that. She noticed that her reflection actually did look slightly different from how she usually thought she did ― her face seemed different, but she couldn't quite place it.

She subconsciously touched her hand to her cheek and shook her head. Her face felt warm, like she had just been running. In fact, her whole body felt like it would after a long run. Her palms were a little sweaty, and so was the back of her neck. She even felt a bit shaky. She was afraid that she was getting sick, but it was really sudden and highly unlikely . . . she just couldn't place the cause at all.

She looked towards the library entrance, where she noticed Harry and Ron entering, both looking rather concerned as they looked at her. They caught up with her quickly enough.

"Hermione?" said Harry, standing in front of her. "You all right?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," she replied, placing a hand to her red cheek.

"Blimey, Hermione, you look sick," said Ron, taking a couple of steps closer to her. "What happened? We saw a couple of Slytherins walking out, did you run into them?"

"Well . . . yes," she finally said. "Yes, I did, but it was nothing major. . . ."

"Did they make you . . . nervous?" Harry asked.

"Nervous?" said Hermione. "Nervous ― no, not at all. No, I just don't know what's wrong ―"

"I was just asking, because you don't look sick ― you look nervous," said Harry.

Hermione blinked. "Why would I be ―"

"Beats me," said Harry.

Hermione replayed the entire situation in her mind. She was talking to Pansy. Pansy saw Charlotte and confronted her. They began to talk. She locked eyes with Malfoy and turned away as quickly as possible. He looked at her like she was crazy. He then looked away. He looked back and smirked at her.

Oh, for Merlin's sake.

"I'm going to go up to my dormitory now," said Hermione, "and try to get some rest, if I can. Maybe I'm just nervous about the DA or something. It's stressful, you know. I'll just stay up there for a bit."

Harry looked at her curiously for a moment, and then shrugged. "All right, well, we hope you feel better."

"Thank you."

Hermione rushed through the corridors to Gryffindor Tower, ignoring the various greetings from other students along the way. Within a couple of minutes, she was in her dormitory, seated on her bed, with her diary in her lap and her quill frantically scratching a simple note on the paper.

Dear Diary,

I'm getting really nervous around Draco Malfoy, and I really don't like it.

― Hermione