It all starts in double potions. You are putting the last ingredient in your project, resulting in the perfect amber color, a clear sign that you have done everything precise and correct. You let out the breath you have been holding, when you feel someone watching you. You survey the room covertly, hair beginning to stand on end from the feeling. However, after a moment of meeting no one's eye, you wonder if you imagined the whole thing. That's when you glance to the Slytherin side and see her.
At first, you think she is trying to look at your potion in order to cheat – perhaps she has been spying the whole time, hoping to also form a perfect end result. But somehow that doesn't seem right.
"Time is up. You may bottle your potions and bring them to my desk." Professor Snape's drawl seems to alert her to what she was doing, because she quickly averts her eyes and begins packing her things. You continue to send glances her way as you exit the room, but she never again looks your way. You wonder if it was simply your imagination making you think that Pansy Parkinson was staring at you the whole time.
That night in the Great Hall, you look for her from your seat at the Gryffindor table. Ron and Harry are discussing the latest addition to the Cuddley Cannons and how very interesting it all is. You find her, sitting next to Millicent Bulstrode. You wonder if she is planning something. She's always had a mean streak in her and has especially never been very nice to you. Was she planning a prank? You tell yourself that it is in your best interest to keep an eye on her. If she is planning some sort of attack, it only makes sense to try and find out what her first move will be.
You watch her throughout dinner, taking note that she looks somehow different this year. Or perhaps, it is that you have never really taken the time to see her. Harry and Ron often make fun of her "pug face" and you've truly believed her to be ugly yourself, but upon further inspection you find that her features really aren't unappealing. Her cheeks are round but hard, with long black lashes covering green eyes, and to be honest, you find her upturned nose to be rather interesting. You suppose it's probably not that surprising that her and Draco are together, which you assume they probably are.
"Hermione, are you finished?" Ron's question seems to come out of nowhere. Suddenly, you realize that dinner is entirely over and you didn't even finish your bread pudding.
That night, as you lay in bed, you know that you should be sleeping, or at the very least studying. But somehow, you can't get what happened earlier out of your head. Was she looking at you at all? And if so, why? Troubled, you close your eyes, willing sleep to come. But all you see instead are images of those green eyes, staring back at you.
It has now become your mission to figure out Pansy Parkinson. During class, you can't help but let your eyes wonder over to her. It becomes a game to sneak glances, almost hoping to catch her looking at you. However, after days of her not paying attention to you at all, you once again wonder if you made the whole thing up. Then, at breakfast, you steal a look at the Slytherin table, scanning carefully to pinpoint if she is up or not. Suddenly, you find her, eyes locking. She is looking at you, looking at her, and your breath catches. Should you look away? But somehow you can't. Her face is completely unreadable but you are sure yours looks shocked. Embarrassed, you turn away. When you look back, she is buttering her toast, as though the whole incident never happened. You curse under your breath, completely irritated by the whole thing.
You decide then and there that this new interest has to stop. It is clear she is not planning anything – that you are actually one who seems to be creeping on her and not the other way around. You promise yourself you will not look in her direction again. Feeling firm, you leave the Great Hall, having not even finished your breakfast.
It's double potions again and you know what you have to do. You can't give her any of your attention. Don't even pay attention to if she comes into the room. Needing a distraction, you turn to ask Harry something completely unimportant, hoping he will somehow be able to ease your mind.
Unfortunately for you, this is the day that Professor Snape has decided to assign you a lab partner. You brace the edge of the table, hoping against hope that it is anyone but her. You would rather be with Draco Malfoy himself than have to sit next to her for any length of time. Your heart races as he goes down the list. Then, he pairs you with Theodore Nott. You had thought you would feel relieved, but you actually feel incredibly disappointed. Sadly, you move your things over to his table.
For the rest of class you wonder what could have possibly gotten into you. The last time you spoke to Pansy she was screeching and making fun of you. You tell yourself that it is simply because you want some explanation – you want to know if she has really been looking at you or if you have made it all up in your mind. Even in your head you think you sound crazy.
Deciding that just one glance won't hurt, you look around the classroom, simply to get a sense of where she's at. Turning, you find that your new position has put you directly in front of her. Glancing, you see that she is in fact, looking right at you. Your eyes become huge, at having finally caught her. But she doesn't turn, or look embarrassed. She simply continues to look at you, expression completely blank. You stare back, determined that she will be the first to look away this time. Slowly, your gaze travels to her face. You take in her eyes, cheeks, nose, and finally see her lips – plumper than you remember. Then, her pink tongue escapes from her mouth and slowly licks her lips. It only lasts a second but suddenly you can't breathe. You can feel your cheeks growing red, but you can't stop looking at her mouth. You try to pinpoint what it is exactly that you are feeling.
Professor Snape speaks from the front of the classroom, and like a guilty child you quickly turn to face him. You look down to see that your hands are shaking and it's with an earth shattering start that you realize exactly what emotion you are feeling at that moment: want.
The idea is so overwhelming that you don't touch it for a few days. You completely put it out of your mind. But one night, as you are lying in bed, you open it up for exploration. You picture those lips and that tongue and suddenly, you need to be touched. Telling yourself it's simply your hormones you try to think of Ron. His red hair, his chest, the way he touches you.
When that doesn't work you simply try to clear your mind all together. You touch your breast, gently tugging at your nipples. That's when you wonder, what it feel like for her to touch your nipples. You picture her hands on your breasts, tugging and massaging – you imagine those pink lips coming down to suck on you. You can almost feel that tongue licking it's way across your body. Suddenly, you've never been so aroused. With this fantasy, you bring yourself to the edge, and more than once.
Feeling quite dirty by your new secret interest and your current nightly activities, you are overjoyed by the time the weekend comes. All week, you have her eyes on you and with good reason: your eyes have been on her. You've dedicated more time to studying her hands from across the room than you have to any subject all year. You've purposely tried to leave the room with her at the same time, hoping you will accidentally graze her on the way out. You are dying to touch her, even innocently. You've feel like you've never wanted to be close to someone physically like this before. But you're also slightly disgusted with yourself. Ron and Harry would kill you if they had any idea. But even that's not enough to make you want to stop.
Saturday finds you in the library. Everyone else is at Hogsmeade, which leaves it quiet and empty – exactly how you prefer it. You are just in the middle of revising a Charms essay when you feel her. You can't explain how or why, but the feeling you get when she's around has suddenly hit you so hard it hurts to breathe. Lifting your head, ever so slightly, you prepare to scan the room only to see she's right in front of you! Startled, a small "Oh!" escapes your lips. You fake a coughing fit, in a pathetic attempt to hide your embarrassment.
"Are you okay?" It's the first time her voice has been directed at you and you can't help but wonder how you've never noticed how light and almost gentle it sounds.
"Yes, yes I'm fine. Is there something I can help you with?" You try to adjust your tone to come off annoyed, seeing as you are supposed to hate this girl.
"This is my table. I'm going to sit here to study." She says it so confidentially, you almost feel intrusive. Until you realize that you have never once seen her in the library before, and certainly not at this particular table. And clearly, as the library's most consistent patron, you would know.
"Really? I've never even seen you in the library before. And there are a ton of empty tables! You could sit at anyone of them." Stubbornly, you cross your arms and stare at her in disbelief. All the while you are hoping against hope that she in fact, does sit at this table.
"Yes. But I want to sit. right. here." Her words are punctuated and purposeful. As she says them, she slides into the seat beside you. Not across or catty-corner - she's so close, you can feel the heat coming off her.
"Just don't bother me while I'm trying to study." You snap. But inside your heart is racing. Every fantasy you've ever had of her is flowing through your head and despite your attempt to control your emotions, a blush creeps across your cheeks.
You want something to happen, but it doesn't. She doesn't speak to you. She doesn't touch you. She simply reads. And sits. And breathes. And you are completely aware of all the things she is doing and not doing and it's driving you insane.
"Why aren't you at Hogsmeade?" You say, already ruining your plan to ignore her presence completely.
"Because I had other plans." The words hang tense in the air between you.
"Won't your friends miss you there?"
"I don't know…Draco. The other Slytherins. Don't you have innocent people to torture?"
"Draco's not my boyfriend."
"Fine." Your throat is dry and you are beginning to feel a stir in the pit of your stomach.
"And not all Slytherins are assholes."
"You could have fooled me."
"Oh sure, because you and your friends have never said hurtful things about me." You try to concentrate on her words but all you can think about is how beautiful she looks at this moment. You have to get out before you do something stupid.
"Did you come here to fight with me? I didn't ask you to sit here!" With that you throw your arms up and push out your chair. You feel angry and frustrated. Is she toying with you? Are you blowing this whole situation out of proportion? The idea that she is just here to torment you while you are aching for her is too much. Not knowing what to do you stand up to leave. You are ready to stomp out the library door when you decide instead to simply go take a walk.
"Where are you going?" She asks heatedly.
"I need, I need...I need to go get another book." You're so infuriated, you practically run through the bookshelves. Slowly, you decided to put some distance between you and that wretched girl. You climb the stairs to the second level, somewhere you hardly go, let alone anyone else in the library. Reaching the back wall, you slump against the bookcase. Your hands are shaking and you're furious at yourself because above all else you feel incredibly aroused. You close your eyes and remember the look of her lips as she snapped at you.
You hear footsteps and quickly open your eyes. She followed you. She's here now, standing before you. She looks at you, blatantly staring. You feel embarrassed and began to bite your lower lip, worrying it between your teeth.
"Fuck it." she says. And suddenly those lips are on yours. Those hands are tangling in your hair. It's not gentle. It's not like your first kiss with Ron, unsure and sweet. It's hard and hungry and delicious. You give into it wholly.
Suddenly, your arms are wrapping around her. They're pulling her to you closer. You can't seem to be close enough. Her tongue is begging for entrance to your mouth and you have no choice but to oblige. You're enlightened. No fantasy could have prepared you for the muscles in her back; for the way her body clings to yours. You've completely forgotten yourself and find you are moaning into her mouth, and not quietly.
Anyone could see you. At any moment Madam Pince could come around the corner and find you snogging Pansy fucking Parkinson. The thought excites you even more. You're ready to do the deed right here and now. But just as you're submitting yourself to her, she stops. She steps back away from you, completely. Then, as if nothing at all as taken place between you, she nods, turns, and walks away.
Baffled, you lift your hand to your lips and for the first time test out her name, "Pansy."