Hermione is not one to daydream in class. She knows that sometimes other students can't seem to pay attention -- she watches Ron's eyes go glassy every time they're in Charms -- but she's never experienced it herself. She's never even been tempted -- at least not until Professor Lockhart came to Hogwarts.
The first few Defense Against the Dark Arts lessons are a piece of cake for Hermione. After acing Lockhart's initial quiz, she settles into a pattern of careful notetaking interspersed with answering questions, and she quickly becomes Lockhart's Gryffindor pet. Hermione loves the way he beams at her when she's right.
It's not until the second or third week of lessons that Hermione's mind starts to wander during Defense Against the Dark Arts. Her thoughts are innocent at first: how nice Professor Lockhart looks in his emerald robes, how Witch Weekly really has been right about his smile, how brilliant blue his eyes are when he's talking about himself.
Hermione's thoughts get a little more risque, however, once she realizes that Lockhart is not teaching her anything she hasn't already picked up from her textbooks. When he talks about himself -- which is often -- she listens with rapt attention, but when he returns to his more and more noticeably ineffectual lessons, she tunes out his rambling, and, focusing on the sound of his voice, Hermione lets her mind wander:
Lockhart grinning -- no, leering -- at her in the library, striding towards her, his deep blue robes swirling behind him, catching her by the wrist and spinning her towards him, drawing her close, holding her there against him and kissing her senseless. The smell of him, lilac and damp ink and hair potion.
Lockhart taking her back to his office, charming the door locked, watching her as she smiles coyly while hitching up her skirt. Lockhart's eyes going hot as her skirt climbs higher, revealing the creamy skin of her thighs, a flash of the clean white of her underwear. Lockhart stepping close to her again, his nearness warming her. Lockhart touching her, his hand warm on her knee, then sliding up her thigh. His lips against her throat, her school sweater being tossed away, Lockhart's hands unbuttoning her blouse ...
"Miss Granger?" Hermione's cheeks are hot as she blinks away the daydream.
She risks a glance in the direction of her teacher. "Yes, Professor Lockhart?"
"Miss Granger, you weren't" -- a dramatic pause -- "daydreaming, were you?" Lockhart's eyes are twinkling.
Hermione looks down, blushing even more. "No, Professor."
"Miss Granger, please see me after class. In my office."
"Yes, Professor." Hermione
does her best to keep the leap of her heart out of her seemingly contrite
reply.