The hot summer sun turned the Herbology greenhouse into an oven
The hot summer sun turned the Herbology greenhouse into an oven. Draco Malfoy could definitely feel the heat; the sleeves of his impeccably pressed shirt were rolled up and damp with perspiration. His emerald and silver tie was loosened, and the gray woolen vest was shoved into his schoolbag. Silvery blonde locks cascaded into his line of sight.
It was definitely too hot to even pretend to be concentrating on Herbology, the most mind-numbing subject of all. Crabbe and Goyle had stopped paying attention twenty minutes ago; now Draco let his mind wander aimlessly, almost feverishly in the heat. He shifted in his seat restlessly. His shirt was sticking to the back of his chair uncomfortably.
Bored, he lazily shifted his gaze to Harry, Hermione and Ron. It was quite the maneuver to keep his disgust in check. Weasley had his head propped up, and his great mouth was hanging open like a mailbox door. Bloody idiot, Draco thought maliciously. Potter was doodling in his textbook, but Granger – she was actually listening to the fat old teacher, taking notes as the scholar droned on about plant matter.
If it wasn't for the temporary state of heat-induced delirium that Draco had been in, he might not have even paid heed to Granger. Somehow, in the bright sunlight streaming through the steamy glass of the greenhouse, she looked different from her usual geeky-bookworm-self. Her rats nest of hair seemed soothed by the extra moisture in the building, almost shrinking it to half the size of it's normal afro-like enormousness. The sunshine outlined her shape. Draco could almost swear Granger's eyes were the colour of dark honey, with a tint of gold about them – also a miniscule freckle-like spot in her left eye. Her nose and cheekbones were lightly dusted with mousy brown coloured freckles. They were almost cute, but for the beauty Granger seemed to possess.
Draco realized what he was thinking, and shook his head, as if to rid his mind of the thoughts. Failure was imminent, as Granger shifted in her seat. She crossed her legs, and the hem of her skirt slowly creeped up her smooth-shaven thigh. It was though it happened in slow motion – Draco thought he could even hear the friction of the fabric on her skin. His tongue flicked out of his mouth, to moisten his chapping lips. He could now see down to the slenderness of her ankles, all the way up her silky, soft-looking calves, over her knees, and part way up her thigh. He felt his temperature increase when he thought of what was at the end of those long, long legs. He did not lose control, however. He kept himself in check without taking his eyes off of her.
Keeping her legs in his peripheral vision, Draco hauled his gaze up to her arms. She too, had rolled up her sleeves up to her elbows, also with her sweater vest tucked away. This led his eyes to her breasts. They were of decent size, definitely not the largest he had seen, but they were adequately plump and well rounded. Her shirt was almost too tight; the folds suggested that her breasts were tugging at the fabric. Again, his body temperature rose.
He then pictured her, lying in the Slytherin dormitory: asleep, with his green bedspread exposing her breast in the sunlight. Her smooth curls cascaded gently over one sleeping eye and leaving her smile uncovered. Her leg was exposed, from toe to waist, the velveteen emerald blanket covering everything else. It was a serene sight with Draco looking almost lovingly on.
Damn it, why did he get so worked up over this girl he'd never looked twice at before? No matter, he would enjoy his observation time while it lasted.
Leaving the breasts, his cold gray eyes followed her slight arms down towards her scribbling fingers. Her fingers were thin, and had smudges of ink on the tips and under the fingernails – unattractive, Draco decided. Yet her wrists and forearms were so smooth and flawless looking, the same creamy colour of her legs, and nearly hairless. Draco smirked at the thought of some Hufflepuff girl's he'd seen shaving their arms, and took pleasure in seeing Hermione's arms so perfect looking. Her hands were small, and looked as though a pen or quill belonged in them – or something else, Draco inwardly smirked.
He heard her sigh with – what was that? – A note of boredom? Draco's hungry eyes darted up to her illuminated face. Her moist lips were parted, with her pearly whites partly visible. Oh, those lips. Just how Draco liked them – plump, but not protruding, and natural with no lipstick or gloss. Surprisingly, he also was partial to the few faint freckles upon them – a trait he'd never been fond of.
Suddenly she shifted, making Draco jolt, thus resulting in his chair unseating him. Harry Potter and Ron Weasley both laughed unnecessarily loud as the bell sounded for next class. Draco was grateful for the excuse of the heat, because if not for it, his face would have been just as flushed and red. He hastily stood and righted himself, and grabbed his bag. He chanced one more look at Granger, and to his surprise, she was looking directly at him from across the room. Her eyes were curious and confused.
What was that look in her eyes? Draco would never know. Nonetheless, he would think of her with more appreciation tonight.