‘I’ve always wondered though’, his voice was no more than a whisper, as he leaned forwards in his chair, so much so she felt his breath on her face. Hermione tried to inconspicuously move back in hers, but this also, didn’t escape his attention. His eyes flashed menacingly. ‘Books make you smile, but what makes you scream Granger?’

He was sitting away from the remaining Slytherins, and Hermione pitited the grubby tile that had to occupy Malfoys intense stare. He was breathing heavily through his nose, it seemed so unfair his anger should radiate from him and consume others.

Beads of sizzling rain ran down his rippling muscles, of which were taut from his tense posture. Her bewildered eyes watched hypnotically as the droplets hugged the contours of his flawless skin. They rolled in slow motion, each caressing the bumps of his abdomen. Hermione choked back the dry sobs.
 

Muffled sounds could be heard, as well as banging as furniture turned over to the floor. Her eye peeped through the gap. Draco was storming back and forth, his figure shaking uncontrollably, fists at his side. "I can’t take it!" He bellowed to himself, his hands moving to his hair and tearing wildly.

Overall there are about 6 wizards and witches who have ever been known to have it in history, me being one of them" he explained quite casually, as if it was the weather they were discussing. Hermione threw him a furtive look, and he read her like a book.