Disclaimer: In its use of intellectual property and characters belonging to JK Rowling, Warner Bros, Bloomsbury Publishing, et cetera, this work of fiction is intended to be transformative commentary on the original. No profit is being made from this work.
Originally written for the halloween-themed fic exchange community, dmhghalloween. The recipient ended up being ellielove_x3 and the prompt was broomstick.
Not Even You
She'd come out into the courtyard for a bit of quiet from the crowd and a chance to cool off. Unfortunately for her, Hermione got neither.
She stole a glance at her sole ... companion, to be polite, and somehow managed to look unimpressed.
"You came to the Halloween Feast dressed as a Quidditch player, Malfoy?" She rolled her eyes. "How very creative of you."
"I highly doubt you actually know how creative this costume is, Granger." Malfoy had been leaning against one of the pillars lining the grass covered area, and if he hadn't moved in her direction, she would have never seen him. Clothed from pale head to dark booted toe in all black, she had first thought he was dressed as a ninja, but the broomstick in his hand had given away his true costume identity. After all, brooms weren't exactly a ninja's weapon of choice.
Hermione dragged her eyes up from a leather-bound hand when Malfoy began walking toward her. He smoothed his other hand down his robe, fingers bumping over the scarlet bat embroidered over his heart. "When I leave this ancient pile of stones behind, I'll be Seeker for the Ballycastle Bats."
"That's not creative, Malfoy. That's just wishful thinking."
"Clever." It was a lousy jab at best and they both knew it. Hermione guessed her lacklustre performance thus far had something to do with the fact that she was now pressed against a pillar herself with Malfoy fast approaching. He reached her before she could move and leant one hand just above her shoulder. He ducked his head to whisper into her ear, and Hermione closed her eyes as one padded shin pushed between her feet.
"But you know what the real genius of this costume is, Granger?"
Hermione didn't trust her voice so she shook her head, unwilling to speak despite knowing what he would say. Malfoy confirmed her thoughts a moment later with the sudden hard press of his body against hers.
"The ladies can't resist a man in uniform." His tongue made a hot, devastating swipe at her earlobe. "Not even you."
He was gone within moments, the brush of his robe against the grass the only sound of his leaving. Hermione let herself slump back into the pillar and pulled in a few shaky breaths before pushing her wobbly feet back in the direction of the Great Hall.
So much for escaping the heat.
This may or may not have a sequel. If I ever get around to writing it, it will be posted as a separate story.