Hermione drew a long lick from the popsicle, eliciting several moans from most of the male population of the great hall. Hermione had started lick the extra long popsicle 2 minutes ago, every male, 3rd year and up’s attention. She seemed to be oblivious, reading the�Daily Prophet.
She started to suck on the tip, eagerly getting the juice, causing several wizards to get up, muttering about the bathroom. Harry and Ron had been staring at her, too. For she had grown. Her normally bushy hair, fell in ringlets to right below her shoulders. Her chest had doubled in size. She has red plump lips, with deep brown eyes. She had been getting jealousy glares from girls all year. She brushed them off as her being best friends with Harry Potter, The-Boy-Who-Refused-To-Die.
Hermione swirled the tip with her tongue, eyes closing in bliss. She opened them again, seeming interested in the article. She stuck almost the entire popsicle in her mouth, getting the sugary syrup. She pulled it out with a loud pop. The Gryffindor boys squirmed in there seats, looking at the food, while trying to ignore the tightness in there pants.
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