The Other Story

Chapter 3: Stares

Hermione's thoughts were being haunted by none other than her's and her best friend's enemy; Draco Malfoy. She did her best not to think too much of it, but the memory kept on resurfacing in her head.

She was so preoccupied that she had even forgotten to be upset about Lavender and Ron. Not completely though, she still threw up a bit in her mouth whenever she saw those two snogging each other's faces off. It was clear, however, that Ron was starting to lose interest in Lavender's obsessive clinginess...

Well good for him, Hermione thought. The image which was now passing through her mind was Draco lying on the wet bathroom tiles, his body swimming in his own blood.

Hermione was glad that Malfoy did not remember her healing him, because if that were the case, she would never hear the end of it.

About a week after Harry casted the Sectumsempra spell, Hermione was in Defense Against the Dark Arts. She was tucking back her brown curls when she felt someone looking at her.

It was Malfoy, his pale grey eyes (how did she even know their colour?) slipping over her face. Hermione did not catch his eye. She didn't even want to. There was no temptation what so ever.

She had no idea how to react though, so she decided to open up her textbook and make it seem as if she were very, very concentrated in reading about resisting the Imperius curse. But Hermione still felt his eyes boring into her back. Quickly, she turned around and shot Malfoy a foul look.

He looked as if Hermione had just woken him up from a deep trance. "What is it, Granger?" Draco snapped with a threatening edge to his voice. Hermione sighed and turned back to studying.

What was up with him? Malfoy had been acting very strange lately. And why was he suddenly so very interested in Hermione's back? And why couldn't she resist thinking about her healing him? It was probably because of the shock she was in when she found an almost dead body. It would have been the same with anyone, Hermione thought to herself.

But what if there was something very wrong with her? Maybe someone had put an Imperius curse on her, or even slipped a Fred and George's product into her breakfast, to make her think obsessively about someone.

"Okay, now I am just being ridiculous," Hermione muttered.

Harry, who was sitting next to her, turned his head.

"Sorry, couldn't quite catch that. What did you say, Hermione?" he asked, his round glasses slightly askew.

"Nothing. I was just revising some mental notes," Hermione said, trying to look casual,

"Harry, your glasses are askew. Here, let me," she said, as she put them properly back onto his nose.

"Thanks," Harry grinned. Hermione smiled in response and placed her attention back onto Professor Snape, who had started saying something about Inferi, his black robes trailing behind him as he continued stalking around the room.

When Hermione, Ron and Harry were walking out of class, Malfoy accidentally bumped into her.

"Watch it, Malfoy," Ron growled, who seemed to take Draco running into Hermione as an offensive action.

Malfoy just stared and said to Ron, scowling, "Shut it, Weasley," and then he was off, walking away with big steps. Pansy Parkinson and Crabbe were not far behind.

"What's gotten into him?" Ron asked.

"No idea. Or actually...it could be the new pressure of being a Death Eater, as I have told you so many times before," Harry said, sounding slightly annoyed at his two best friends.

"And so I have said to you so many times as well! Malfoy, a Death Eater?! I don't think so," Hermione shot back, irritated.

Harry glared at her.

"Lets head to dinner, I'm starving," Ron said, trying to break the icy tension. Hermione and Harry shrugged, just before the Golden Trio started walking towards the Great Hall. They could smell the warm meals already.