Well—to Draco, it appeared that way. Inwardly, Hermione had been struck by an idea so daring and tenuous that it would have kept her from sleeping if she even had an orchestra to serenade her at the side of the tub. Draco couldn’t see her face since he sat behind her, allowing her to lean backward onto him, but she kept her eyes closed anyway, thinking hard all the while, careful to keep her body languid as he moved from her shoulders to her upper back.