"You wear glasses?"

Draco's head snaps up from the book he had been perusing. Granger is peering at him like he is a new species of Pygmy Puff that she would very much like to study under a microscope. Fuck. Since when had she been staring at him? His neck prickles and he swiftly removes the specs. "No."

Her eyes narrow. "So you were wearing them for fun?"

"These are magical glasses," he lies with a straight face.

"Oh yeah?" She huffs in disbelief. "And they do what? Help you read muggle books?"

Fuck. Fuck. He smacks the battered copy of Pride & Prejudice shut between his hands. His face turns white hot.

"This is a magical book with glamour," he lies again, wondering if his IQ has actually reached that of a Pygmy Puff. His tongue feels thick in his mouth.

"I returned the very same copy last week to the library," Hermione points to the code number at the edge of his book and summarily summons her library card from her bag. She reads the matching code from it theatrically. Then she looks at him as if she would like to make a theater out of him next.

Fucking know it all! Draco abruptly straightens his back, two could play this game. He puts on his glasses and starts peering at her curiously. "Ah...that's an interesting choice of color, Granger."

"Excuse me?"

"For your underwear," he offers vaguely.

"My wh-what?" She shrieks, her arms swinging to cover her chest hurriedly. Then moving to cover her legs. Then finally coming up to hide her chest again.

Oh, good old body language. Was she insecure about her chest size? Draco suddenly knows exactly which buttons to push. He nods his head slowly in the all knowing manner of a fortune teller. Then he clicks his tongue as if seeing doom. "Your boobs are all just a show from a heavily stuffed push up bra."

Hermione gapes at him. In the next instant, her lips start quivering like strings of a lute. Before he can react, she snatches away the glasses from his face and looks at the ground, her shoulders slumping. She raises a fist to her mouth as if to stifle a sob. Salazar help him! Was she going to start crying? Fuck.

"Granger?" He asks, and then pauses. Because he doesn't know what to say next. Girls were so strange! His stomach twists uncomfortably. He gets up from his desk and places a hand on her shoulder. She gives a surprised yelp and caramel eyes swirling in hurt look up at him through thick lashes.

"Malfoy...y-you are a bastard!" she finally sputters in disgust, drawing in deep breaths.

"Sure, okay. I am a...bastard," he accepts immediately, even though he isn't one in the literal sense but, in theory, he gets her point. If only she would stop looking so miserable.

"B-boys should not p-point o-out a girl's...insecurities," she whispers softly, lips trembling again.

"Yes, boys should not," he nods earnestly, his heart pounding in his ears like warning drumbeats.

"Boys should not lie," she continues, and stares at him as if waiting for him to agree.

"Boys should not lie," he echoes, trying to make his voice sound sincere. As if they were in some kind of ritual of repeating things for them to work.

From the corner of his vision he sees her leg blur and before he can dodge, she kicks him on his shin. He lets out an 'ow' before he can stop himself. Then he straightens up and looks at her impassively like he had not just squealed like a baby pygmy puff. She starts laughing like a mad prisoner from Azkaban and Draco wonders in a daze if something in his brain has fused. What-

Hermione wears his glasses and shakes her head. "Malfoy, Malfoy, Malfoy"-she starts peering at him like before-"Ah...that's an interesting subject you are thinking about."

And.

Oh.

Oh.

He cannot believe Madam Self-Appointed-Crusader-For-House-Elf-Rights could be so diabolical as to yank his chain with a prank!

And that she would look so cute in oversized glasses! Fuck.

In the next instant, something within him abruptly decides to play along. "What is?"

"You are thinking about my boobs," she says, tilting her head. Her hazel-brown curls dance on her shoulders. He cannot believe they are having this conversation. He wants to kick his own shin to confirm that he isn't dreaming.

"And you know how I knew you lied about my boobs, Malfoy?" She continues conversationally and all blood rushes to his dick. Fuck.

What parallel universe is this? Is Bellatrix dipping in a holy river to atone for her sins somewhere? Is Crabbe the smartest human being of this universe? Hermione Granger is talking to him about her lovely boobs out of herown violation!

His voice is strangled to his own ears. "How?"

"Because they are not in any stuffed push up bra. It's all real." She heaves her bag strap over her shoulder. Her breasts perk up in one smooth motion, as if in demonstration of her words.

Draco, in that instant, mentally accepts that as much as a Quidditch bludger cannot help but knock players off their brooms, he cannot help but leer at her. His tongue feels like a tacky sandpaper in his mouth. Open. Close. Try again. "Is that so?"

"Sweet dreams, Mr Dracy." She offers him a cheeky salute before sauntering away, her figure disappearing into the horizon.

Fuck. Well...at least now he had permission?

And fuck again. She had taken away his glasses!

Fin.