Veela Love

Chapter Twenty-Seven: Memories

            Hermione was on edge wherever she went. It felt like she had eyes on her, and they weren't Draco's loving ones. The only time she relaxed was when Draco was by her side – it was impossible to be anything but when they were together. Logically Hermione knew it was the pheromones that Draco put out for her unconsciously as a response to her stress, but she didn't care. It was a reprieve from her near-constant state of agitation.

"Hermione, seriously, nothing is going to happen. You're freaking Draco out." Hermione glanced at Draco, who wore a strained expression, and then back to Ginny, who was snuggled up next to Blaise.

"I can't help it," she muttered, but she did stop tapping her foot. Leaning over, she gave Draco a quick kiss on the cheek.

"I know we're all a little on edge," Blaise started, "but it's been two weeks, and Ron and Pansy haven't done anything."

"Pansy's just the type of person to lull us into a false sense of security before striking," Draco pointed out.

"She isn't really that smart, is she?" Ginny asked, pulling away from Blaise slightly.

"Well..." Blaise trailed off. "She is, and she isn't. She's not book smart like our Hermione, but she still understands human nature. More specifically, how to hurt someone the worst."

Hermione shuddered and closed her eyes. There, again, she felt a pair of eyes on her. "Someone is watching me, guys."

She felt Draco's entire demeanor change, even with her eyes shut tight. His aura seemed to expand, engulfing Hermione. "There's no one, love." The relief in his voice was evident.

Hermione opened her eyes and looked around her. He was right, there was no one, but she couldn't stop herself from giving the Great Hall a second inspection. "I know there is. I can feel it." She glanced around at her friends, all of whom were giving her concerned glances. "I'm not crazy."

Draco smoothed down a lock of her hair. "No one is saying you are. But the stress is probably getting to you, just like it is all of us."

Hermione glared at him and batted his hand away. "No, it's not stress." She hastily stood. "But if no one is going to believe me, I'm going to the library. At least there, I won't be questioned." Flouncing off, her hair bouncing all around her, Hermione couldn't help but feel a bit of satisfaction at her dramatic exit. If they weren't going to take her seriously when she knew she was right, then they could deal with the consequences on their own, whatever they happened to be.

The familiar path to the library helped put Hermione at ease. She was surprised that Draco hadn't followed her, but she knew he had felt her irritation, and he probably wanted her to cool down. She didn't care.

If she hadn't been so involved with her own thoughts, she might have heard the swish of a wand and been able to dodge the curse sent her way. Unfortunately, she was hit square in the middle of her back, knocking her forward. She was unconscious before she landed face-first on the flagstone.

One minute she had been having the most excellent dream about a new bookstore that'd popped up, and the next, she was enervated awake and choking on blood. Spitting out the offending liquid, she realized it was coming from her nose. It must be broken. She was also tied to a chair with some kind of invisible bond – she couldn't move at all.

"Well, it looks like the little princess finally woke up," Pansy sneered. "You've never been pretty, but now you look downright dreadful."

Hermione glared at her. "This is a horrible idea, Pansy."

"You don't even know what the plan is, Hermione. Stop being a know-it-all for one second and listen to someone else."