“What the bloody hell are you doing?” asked Draco.
Granger collapsed out of the horrid tangle and found her knees. “Yoga. What the bloody hell are you doing?”
Draco had seen this mysterious term on Granger’s schedule. “That’s yoga? What kind of self-inflicted martyrdom–?”
Now that he had ascertained that there was no immediate threat, Draco could take in the scene. There were candles flickering in a corner and soft music was playing. Granger was outfitted in those ridiculously form-fitting Muggle clothes, khaki green this time. Her hair was pulled into a French braid, thick as Draco’s wrist.
Granger was looking at him like he was an absolute bellend. “I was trying a Taraksvasana–”
“A scorpion handstand – I’ve been working towards it for weeks, and I almost had it, until you came in like a bolt from the blue and frightened me out of my wits!”
Draco was feeling increasingly foolish. He pulled his cloak closed to cover his pyjamas. There was little he could do about his bare feet. “What, pray, is the point of yoga?”
“Flexibility. Strength. Balance. Finding serenity.”
Draco eyed Granger with cynicism at the last bit. “Have you found it?”
“No,” said Granger. She got to her feet with evident irritation. “Kindly recalibrate your ring so you only show up in a real crisis.”
She flicked the Elektik lights on. Her cheeks were flushed. A trickle of perspiration was running down her neck. Her chest still heaved from her exertion. Draco could smell salt, female sweat, and the burnt wick of a candle.
His idiot brain took this image and immediately created several new neural pathways that had never existed previously, connecting the idea of Granger with the concept of sexy.” - Draco Malfoy and the Mortifying Ordeal of Being in Love, Chapter 6: Finding Serenity, by @isthisselfcare