Though she was loath to admit it, her attempts to try to stop noticing things about him were also an unmitigated failure. She’d tried - she truly had - but she couldn’t seem to turn it off. Not only had she continued to notice the things she’d already catalogued, like the perfect tumble of his hair and the way his thighs and bum moved almost hypnotizingly in his bespoke trousers, but she’d also begun to notice the length of his perfectly manicured, but still obviously strong fingers. By now, she was beginning to think that perhaps there was no  un- noticing Draco Malfoy once she had begun.