Take Notice

He gave her a wary look. “What’s this about then?”

“You’re going to tell me why you keep gawking at me as if I’m some dangerously extinct creature,” she snapped.

“I—” He reached a hand up and waved a hand through his neatly tousled hair. “I wasn’t staring at you.”

A blatant lie if she ever heard one. Mimicking him with much less grace, she ran her fingers through the curls at the top of her head in frustration. When she met his gaze, he was staring right at where her hands were.

“You’re doing it right now!” she accused.

Or: Draco likes Hermione's hair.