"No, you are," Hermione retorted and poked out her tongue at him, taking an unexpected delight in being as childish as he'd accused her. And then she went tumbling back on the bed, stranded on her back in a mass of twisted blankets, Draco hot and heavy on top of her. The breath whooshed out of her, and her teeth clacked together, and a part of her mind wondered how it was that he was so heavy when he looked so thin.