"Roll over," he nudged at Hermione and she obediently rolled onto her back, feeling a little self-conscious. Draco propped himself up on his good arm and looked down at her intently, and Hermione stared back up, refusing to succumb to that self-consciousness. Draco’s hair hung over his forehead and down into his eyes, an unruly tuft of platinum sticking straight out from his head above his ear. It was adorable. But then there was the rest of him – mouth reddened from snogging, grey eyes boring down at her, shirtless torso leanly muscled.