It looks good on you
There were a million things Draco loved about her, from the way her nose wrinkled as she laughed, to the indelicate snort that popped out when she tried to suppress it. The curls he couldn’t help but mock as a child now fascinated him with their volume and bounce—rather than a nest, her hair was a bed of the highest thread count. He’d happily smother himself in their downy softness.
Insist as she did about her “average” height, compared to him, she might as well have been bite-sized, just light enough to effortlessly pin to every conceivable surface, legs wrapped around his waist. Sneaking up behind her was a favorite pastime, wrapping his arms around her shoulders and propping his chin on top of her head.
Her hands, while small, were strong and supple and he spent many evenings staring at them as she read and spun her wand over her knuckles. He knew the force of their grip on his shoulders and back. She could clench his own hand tight enough to make him wince, and she had done so through some of the best and worst times over the years.
But most of all, it was her fire that drew him in like its own force of gravity. Her determination and confidence in her abilities were irresistible, even more so because he knew the effort behind both. She was talented, of course, and intelligent, but she still put in the time required to turn those raw edges into artwork. She didn’t rest on her arse willing to let compliments and past achievements carry her forward.
Some might call her stubborn, pig-headed even, and overly argumentative, and he’d agree with them a lot of the time despite thinking they looked good on her. These qualities were inherently Hermione Granger, and he wouldn’t swap them out for all the gold in the world.