Draco laced his fingers through Hermione’s for their daily morning test of how loopy she was.   She let out one of the adoring sighs he hated and looked up at him with those sparkling brown eyes as if she were a puppy and he’d just suggested a walk.   "Still nuts, I see," he said, and kept his fingers in hers while he opened the paper with the other hand and flipped the pages until he found the Quidditch standings.  He might have to help her fight her glazed, Veela nonsense, but he didn’t have to torture himself by looking at her while he did it.    Knowing she only liked him when she was high hurt.