Draco looked at a moving photograph of Hermione he had, partially covered on his desk. In it, she was outside, framed by the sun, wearing that green gown he loved. She hadn't realized he'd had the camera out. He'd called her name and when she looked behind herself, caught him there waiting; her expression looping infinitely from curiosity into annoyance and suspicion. Several more similar photographs were hidden in his desk drawers. Most of them were of her nude. In each one, her face was red with discomfort and resentment, and she always turned away, but he didn't mind, because it always gave him full view of her perfect body.