Hermione's nipples are getting hard

Draco ignored the shivering twelve year old, "I admit I'd love to make you put your words where your mouth is. Admit it!" he barked, bumping her with his chest, "You love to talk and show off in class, but when the snap goes down you can't seem to hit the center."

Hermione took a sudden step away from Malfoy, thinking, "I can't let him trick me on this. I know he's up to something, but if I don't rise to his challenge he'll think he had me. How could I ever face him in classes afterwards."

She turned back to him, her back against the blazing fire which bathed her backside in heat, outlining her slender body in a way that exaggerated all of her budding femininity, "What are you proposing, Draco?" Draco, clearly taken by the figure she presented before the roaring fire hesitated as he looked her over. Hermione, suddenly conscious of the state of her dress-that Malfoy was the only person in the room fully dressed felt her nerve slipping. She felt her panties, loose on her hips, but resisted an urge to hike them up from where they had been pushed down, "by his hand." The thought of his hand on her, under her panties, in between her legs made her stomach sink, hot, and turning, she realized how deeply he had invaded her. How much peril she was in, she and the Hufflepuff girl.

"A bet" Malfoy uttered, leering at her.

Hermione scowled, her nerve shaking, forming the words to spit in his face, when Marcie burst out, "I wish my nipples were as big as yours. Yours are much prettier."

Hermione froze, Draco, looking at the second year and following her gaze to Hermione burst out laughing. Hermione's breast was peeking out, for all its small size, crammed up by the corset, and her puffy nipple was sticking out over the top. She remembered Malfoy's finger in there, her sudden turn, and tried clumsily to shove it back down.

"Want some help with that?" Draco muttered, the melodious overtones assimilating his voice.