Draco Malfoy was totally down with having Hermione Granger be his transfiguration partner.
"Turn it back."
"No." Hermione crossed her arms, "I, a fifteen year old girl, have successfully transformed a lesser part of the male anatomy into an umbrella, thereby beating the previous record holder, Matilda Hatter, by fourteen weeks and eight hours, as referenced by Fantastical Wizard Records, page 1086—"
Draco lunged for her, but regrettably tripped over the fresh addition to his anatomy. Ron Weasley sniggered from somewhere above him. Hermione didn't. Draco suspected this was only because she thought sniggering would have ruined her perfection.
Not that she was perfect.
Obviously, she wasn't perfect.
Also: he was going to kill her.
With this goal in mind, Draco flapped his arm across the floor, his wand directed at her feet, and sent a blast of energy straight into her toes. Hermione shrieked, arms pin-wheeling as she suddenly found herself with tiny bicycles for feet. Predictably, her struggle lasted for less than a second, and she soon crashed to the floor. Draco would have found this more satisfying if she hadn't landed with her elbow directly against his spine. He countered this by twisting around and biting her forearm. She had very soft skin. Also, her fingers threading through his hair was sort of pleasant…until she yanked hard enough to bring tears to his eyes.
"What is the meaning of this?" McGonagall squawked, robes billowing behind her as she closed down upon their squabble. Draco stared up her with wide, horrified eyes. He also stopped biting Hermione.
"He turned my feet into bicycles!"
"She turned my little Malfoy into an umbrella!"
"His what?" Potter interjected in the background.
"His ickle Draco," Ron supplied.
"Teeny tiny little Malfoy."
"And she has ruined my pants!" Draco insisted, ignoring the ignorant fools in the audience, "Ruined them, professor!"
"But I set a new record, Professor!" Hermione shouted over him, "By fourteen weeks and eight hours!"
"Oh, for heaven's sake!" McGonagall snapped, nostrils flaring. She waved her wand dismissively to repair them, as if it were the easiest thing in the world, "Detention, the both of you! Report to my office at nine. And Mr. Malfoy, please, attend to yourself."
Hermione looked down at the same moment he did. She looked away quickly, face rapidly flaring through many shades of red.