Round 4 Challenge #2: Voting
Welcome to the second week of voting for Round 4 of Dramione LDWS!! I don’t know about you, but this week’s prompt made me think of broken air conditioners and getting into a hot car after it’s been sitting in the sun for three hours.
Get ready for some HOT, HOT, HOT drabbles!
A couple of things to remember when deciding which drabbles to vote for (most and least favorite):
Guidelines:
1. Which drabble best incorporates the prompt?
2. Is the drabble clever, different, fresh? Does it evoke an emotional response (good or bad)?
3. Does the drabble contain grammar, canon or spelling errors?
The “feedback” option.
As a voter, you have the option of leaving a brief statement about why you voted the way you did, for both most and least favorite. Your feedback will then be given to the drabble writer (if they want the feedback) ANONYMOUSLY.
Example: Most - #40: the ending was brilliant - OR - Least - #57: the ending fell flat
Now that all of that is done… We present the drabbles for week 2!!
RULES
[1] Choose your most favorite and least favorite drabbles. Favorites will receive +1 point per vote, and least favorites -1 point per vote. Each drabble’s MF and LF scores will be added together. Drabble with most points wins, drabbles with least TWO points are voted off.
[2] You may NOT vote for yourself.
Participants using a skip:
xxxsunny
alexajohnson
little_dollface
spikespetslayer
Voting ends at 11:59pm, Friday, June 26, 2009.
PROMPT:
“What dreadful hot weather we have! It keeps me in a continual state of inelegance.”
~ Jane Austen ~
1
Title: Sweat and Ancestors
Author: __vintagebomb
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Minor language.
Word Count: 279
It was common knowledge in the Wizarding world that Malfoys never sweat. They are cool, composed, and always presentable.
It was more than an unusual occurrence that Draco's face was red and blotchy. It was almost a disgrace that sweat was pouring down his face. He patted his brow with his embroidered handkerchief and cursed out the sun. What happened to the generations of perfect genes that were passed down to each Malfoy? And whose bloody idea was it to have brunch in the sweltering heat?
Draco glared at Harry across the picnic table. He wanted to swipe off that smug grin on his face. Potter was enjoying his misery too much and he certainly was not making this any easier for him.
He turned to his right and saw that Hermione was trying to stifle a giggle. "Don't give me that look, Malfoy. You promised me that you'd come. Besides, it isn't that bad. You're still alive with all your body parts attached, aren't you not?"
Draco narrowed his eyes at his bushy-haired girlfriend. He smelled like a Weasley who hadn't showered in a week and it was all her fault. His ancestors were clearly punishing him. He could almost hear them cursing in their graves: first about his girlfriend and now his meal at the Weasleys. He might as well be disowned!
"Now stop acting like you've got a stick up your arse and relax. It would mean the world to Molly if you have a great time today."
He let out a sigh as she leaned over and kissed him on the lips before giving him a pleading smile.
Ancestors, be damned.
She was worth it.
2
Title: Fight or Flight
Author: pokecharm
Rating: G
Warnings: Post-DH Epilogue
Word Count: 297
The window in the corner was letting in a wave of humid air, and Draco sat up slowly, thinking this might help clear the fog in his head. He didn’t quite recall how he’d gotten here, but his arm was throbbing and the heat was only making the pain in his head worse. He slid to the side, letting his legs hang off of the bed. He started to reach for a glass of water on a nearby table and saw the last person he expected standing in the doorway of his hospital room.
Hermione gave him a small smile and said apologetically, ‘You have me listed as your emergency contact.’
‘Right,’ he answered, shutting his eyes for a moment.
She kept her gaze down. ‘What was it this time?’
‘Hey!’ he snapped. ‘It was an accident, an actual one! I didn’t get into anything with anyone.’
She seemed to weigh the words slowly and then asked, ‘Then how did you get a concussion and dislocate your arm? That looks like more than one thing fell.’
‘It did,’ he said indignantly.
She sighed. ‘If you’re alright to get home, then I’ll see you…’
She didn’t finish her thought and he turned away from her, his anger mounting. She crossed the short distance between them and placed a hand on his cheek. ‘Tell me the truth.’
He tried to pull out of her grasp, but her cool hand was sending shivers down his spine, making it difficult to concentrate.
He replied quietly, ‘I am.’
She tilted her head and smirked at him. ‘Are you still cross with me?’
‘No,’ he replied without hesitation, and then added earnestly, ‘I miss you.’
‘Me too,’ she whispered.
‘Then stay,’ he pleaded.
She sighed and pulled away from him. ‘I can’t…not yet.’
3
Title: Draco's Trick
Author: megans_writing
Rating: PG
Warnings: Slight sexual references
Word Count: 267
Oh what a beautiful day, Hermione thought to herself. It was warm July day and the sky was completely clear of clouds. She lay on a beach chair reading a novel, wearing a tiny yellow bikini so she could get a tan.
"ARRGH!"
Hermione slid her sunglasses down her nose to see her husband storming out of the mansion. She did her best to suppress her laughter at his appearance. Draco looked hilarious wearing plaid shorts and flip-flips.
"This weather is unbearable!" he shouted.
"What? Does it keep you in a constant state of inelegance?"
"Yes! Yes it does!" he replied matter-of-factly. "My air conditioning spell in the house wore off, and I can't find my bloody wand." Draco outstretched his hand. "Give me yours."
"Why should I? You look absolutely ravishing when you're shirtless and sweating…"
Draco peered down to take a look at her book. "You've been reading too much Jane Austin, love." He smiled wickedly. "C'mon up here and give me a kiss."
Hermione rolled her eyes, put her book and wand down on the beach chair and stood up. Draco pulled her forward, kissing her roughly and squeezing her round arse.
"HAHA!" he cried in triumph and quickly ran back to the mansion.
Bewildered, Hermione glanced around. She gaped when she saw that her wand, that was on top of her novel, was gone. "How the hell did he do that? " she pondered. Hermione relaxed on the beach chair again, not wanting Draco to get the best of her. Oh well, maybe he'll continue what he started. She chuckled to herself.
4
Title: Restoration Committee.
Author: midnight_birth
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Very minor nudity.
Word Count: 296
"I hate this heat!" Draco scowled. "I need a break."
"We're already behind schedule.”
“What schedule? We're volunteers!"
"No." Hermione pursed her lips. "We're Hogwarts' official Restoration Committee. Besides, you're obligated to the Ministry to do this. So stop your whining.”
“I have been doing this!” Draco outstretched his arms to the side. “Look at me, Granger! I’ve been out here working like a house elf,” she shot him a murderous look, “every free second I have, and now with all this sun I’m sweaty, I smell like a hog, and I look ridiculous!”
Hermione stifled what conspicuously sounded like a chuckle and turned away quickly, though he noticed.
“You’re wearing about a thousand layers,” she told him practically. “Besides, who cares what you look like?
Draco grinned maliciously. With a shrug, he pulled off his sweater in one swift movement. Pulling on his shirt, making most of the buttons come loose, he shrugged out of that as well. It was only when he loosened his belt buckle that Hermione spun around at the sound.
“Malfoy, what are you doing? she shrieked immediately, bringing her hand to cover her eyes and turning beet red. When Draco didn’t stop, she waved at him frantically. “What are you... Stop it, put those back on!”
Draco paused with his trousers around his knees, his fingers hooked into the waistline of his pants, and raised a brow with a smirk.
Hermione turned around, her eyes on the ground and her cheeks burning crimson. “Take a break!” she hissed. “Get out of my sight!”
With a knowing nod, Draco pulled up his trousers and strolled away, leaving the rest of his clothes behind. Hermione made sure she commanded herself not to look until he walked out of her reach of vision.
5
Title: The Summer Swelter
Author: nightfalltwen
Rating: PG
Warnings: Use of Fahrenheit for temperatures. Although celsius has been used by the UK since the 1970s, the wizarding world, as we know, is resistant to change. ;)
Word Count: 300
Air conditioning, still relatively unknown in Muggle England, is definitely not found in the Ministry of Magic. On days when the temperature outside reaches into the nineties and barely dips below the high seventies at night, The Ministry of Magic becomes unbearable. Cooling charms can only do so much. And even the magic that floats through the air feels like a heavy, humid blanket.
Not to mention the smells.
Draco hates his office, no window or vent. Hellfire and damnation and a pox on the idea of seniority! What good is the Malfoy fortune if it can't buy him a more comfortable place to work?!
So. Occasionally, like today, he takes off his shoes and presses his bare feet flat against the flagstones that make up the floor. It's a brief respite from the temperature and makes him feel less wilted and rumpled and sweaty and disgusting.
"Ice water?" Hermione asks, poking her head into his office. He's not surprised that she's here; she comes every day with something cold to drink. After all, it is her announcements that float through the corridors reminding everyone about the importance of fluids.
He nods.
She pours.
Condensation slips down the glass. He's not watching the glass; he's watching a bead of sweat slide down her neck, across her collarbone and down further toward her décolletage. Damn lucky bead of sweat. Were he a weaker man, he would follow that bead of sweat himself. But he's a strong man. Stronger than one might think. He's lived through an attack by a vicious hippogriff and stood in the presence of the Dark Lord.
She leans and holds out the glass to him; their fingers touch. The temperature goes even higher.
Draco finds that he is actually not a strong man and pulls her closer.
6
Title: Hot Couple
Author: bookishwench
Rating: G
Warnings: none
Word Count: 300
Hermione thought she must’ve done something horrendous and died without realizing it because never before had she felt this hot.
Certainly never in January.
“Those Weasley twins!” she mumbled. “If they want to annoy Umbridge, why couldn’t they confine the frying charm to her office?”
“Neaten up!” a mirror yelled at her, and she stopped to inspect the damage.
She made a doomed effort to straighten her perspiration-drenched curls, but as she glared at the mirror, she noticed someone smirking behind her. Not one hair on Malfoy’s head was out of place, and he looked perfectly cool.
“Why aren’t you hot?” she asked.
“Please! Everyone thinks I’m hot,” Draco said.
“No, really, why aren’t you dying of heat?” she said.
“I’ve no idea what you’re talking about. It’s rather chilly today,” he lied.
“I should’ve known better than to ask one of Umbridge’s goon squad!” Hermione said, grimacing once the words slipped out. “How many points was that?”
“Fifty. Or perhaps you’d rather spend detention shoveling wood into the school fireplaces with your beloved House-elves for the next three hours? That’ll warm you up,” Draco said.
“I’ll work with the elves,” Hermione said, lifting her chin defiantly.
Draco’s grin faltered.
“You don’t mean that,” he said. “This heat… you’ll get sick!”
“Gryffindor is already down 546 points. Any punishments the Inquisitorial Squad gives are charmed to be binding, right?” she said.
“But… I didn’t mean…,” he stammered. “Be reasonable! Take the fifty points!”
“I’ll report to the kitchens,” she said, turning on her heel.
She didn’t see Draco’s truly alarmed expression, but before she’d gone ten paces, she felt a fresh, cooling breeze travelling with her.
She also didn’t see Draco suddenly dripping sweat or hear him grumbling, “Why does it work on only one person at a time? Why?”
7
Title: Alas I Cannot Swim
Author: spadul
Rating: G
Warnings: None!
Word Count: 300
“It says here that the herb should grow on the southern bank of the lake, under the cover of darkness where it cannot be tainted by moonlight.” Hermione puzzled over the book for a moment longer, before snapping attention to her counterpart. Her eyes widened and she shouted in shock. “Malfoy!”
His eyes lazily swept over her face, his fingers deftly unbuttoning his crisp oxford. “I've read the text, Granger.”
“What are you doing?” Her tone was rushed, and by the desperate way she clutched onto her book one could even detect embarrassment.
“It's hotter than a dragon's nostril out here, Granger, what would you rather I do?” He cuffed his uniform trousers under his knees, and shot her a sly grin as he slowly waded into the water.
“We have work to do, Malfoy, for a grade. We can't just muck about as we please.” She crossed her arms and frowned severely as Draco dove underwater, completely disregarding her wishes. She stomped to the edge of the lake and glared at him as he emerged from the surface, water dripping from his wayward blonde locks. She thrust her hand out sternly, her voice resonating like a harsh growl. “Out, now.”
He rolled his eyes and smirked, paddling towards the shore. “Whatever you wish, Granger.” His wet hand grasped onto hers, and she should have noted the look of joy crinkling in his eyes, for within moments she was headed straight towards the lake's surface. Her body met with an ungraceful splash, and flailing madly, she broke the surface, sputtering and gasping for air in thick heaves.
“Five points from Gryffindor, Granger. Your nautical skills are a mockery to this entire establishment.”
Hermione wiped the water from her eyes and glared, actively imagining all the ways she could seek revenge.
8
Title: Fall
Author: terravayne
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: none, one curse word
Word Count: 300
A man stood atop the cliff the locals called Dead Man’s Bluff, peering down into the craggy waters. They were rumored to claim a life every year despite wooden signs along the path banning divers and proclaiming in bold, splashy letters that there’s still so much to live for.
Hermione swiped at her sweaty neck with a napkin, wadding it up with the rest of her picnic. If she squinted, the man looked faintly familiar, his unbuttoned shirt slapping against his back in the wind. Then he unhooked his belt, and she was tearing up the hill. “Wait!” she yelled.
He turned slowly. “Malfoy?” she exclaimed.
His eyes flickered down to her panting face as she doubled over, legs burning. “What do you want?”
“What do I want? I want to go to the beach without your lunatic death on my conscience!”
Malfoy laughed, sharp and startling in its lack of derision. “Granger, I’ve been diving here since I was old enough to understand dares.”
“But the signs-”
“You always going to follow streetlights and inspirational tripe on billboards? Take a fucking chance, Granger. Jaywalk.” He shrugged off his shirt and it blew over the edge. “It’s like flying. A thousand times better than a broomstick.”
“Until you bash your head in,” she responded tartly.
“Yeah, it’s terrifying. But it’s the only way I know that I’m not afraid. Of falling.”
“Afraid of-but you play Quidditch!”
“So? You ever wonder why Potter always won? Bastard’s fearless.” Malfoy kicked off his shoes and perched on the ledge. “See you on the beach, Granger.”
“Wait!” Hermione dashed to the edge in time to see his arms arched out like wings, body hurtling in freefall.
It must’ve been a trick of the light, because she could’ve sworn she saw him soar.
9
Title: The joys of Hay fever
Author: teenage_hustler
Rating: G
Words: 275
Warnings: None.
Draco stood up and mopped the perspiration from his sunburnt brow. After spending the morning tending to his garden; a process that always seemed more like an all-out war against magical flora than anything else, he felt he deserved a break. He removed his gardening gloves and wellingtons, lay them beside the front door and entered his house.
He was greeted by the sound of loud sneezing; the kind that can only ever be produced by sufferers of chronic hay fever. Checking that no deadly plant traces were stuck to his clothes, he stepped into the living room.
His wife was lying on their leather couch, wiping pathetically at her dripping nose. Even though it was the middle of summer she hadn’t showered for at least 48 hours, and the thin, slightly damp clothes hanging from her body had started to smell. As for her hair, Draco swore he could hear the hairdressers of the world simultaneously committing suicide. Some of her brown curls had stuck onto her sweaty face and neck, while other large chunks had moulded themselves into indeterminable lumps that stuck out at odd angles. A well-worn box of tissues lay on the table beside her, the bin underneath already full to bursting with tissues previously used. It was amazing how the summer weather always managed to reduce his normally clean-cut and elegant wife into such a dilapidated state.
At that moment she sensed his presence and turned to look at him through weeping, bloodshot eyes.
“What?” Hermione asked, although her nose was so blocked it sounded more like “Wodd?”
Draco shook his head and smiled at her.
“You’re beautiful,” he said.
10
Title: Opposing Points of View
Author: ayane_tsurugi
Rating: G
Warnings: None.
Word Count: 142
One of the first things Draco had learned about his wife was that she hated hot weather.
She said that it made her hair bigger and more unmanageable than ever, but he couldn’t see it.
She said that the heat made her sweaty and disgusting, but he couldn’t see it.
She said that the sun burnt her to a crisp, but he couldn’t see it.
All he saw was her face as she pulled her hair back into a ponytail, the smile on her lips when they made shapes out of the water from the ice cubes they’d let melt on their skin as they laid outside, and the suggestive eyebrow she raised whenever she handed him the bottle of sun block and asked him to cover her back.
Hermione hated hot weather, but Draco just couldn't see why. He loved it.
11
Title: A Not-So-Crisp White Shirt
Author: queen_violet
Rating: PG
Warnings: A really hot, half-naked Draco. And one bad word.
Word Count: 201
He was leaning against the balcony, his not-so-crisp white shirt tossed aside carelessly. And if she hadn't known better, she'd’ve said that his tousled hair had been styled into that state of perfect inelegance. But no, that was the effect of running one's hands through it. She smiled. She would know.
She caught herself ogling her husband and shook herself out of her reverie.
"Stressful day, love?" she asked him.
He snorted. "As if there's any other kind."
She sighed and walked over to stand next to him at the railing. "I know." She was quiet for a minute, staring out at the fields behind the Manor. "What was the emergency meeting about?" she asked.
He laughed once, bitterly. "I have no idea."
She moved to stand behind him, resting her chin on his bare, sweaty shoulder. "That bad?"
"Yeah. The cooling charms still aren't working. It was so bloody hot, nobody could concentrate."
"Poor baby," she murmured, and began to rub his shoulders.
He sighed happily. Her fingers dug into his back, tugging the stress from his muscles. As her palms drifted up his back, he let his forehead drop to the railing.
“Thanks,” he whispered.
She smiled. “You’re welcome.”
ooo.&&&.ooo
REMEMBER: Vote for the NUMBER of the drabble, NOT THE NAME. It just makes it easier on the mods! And you MUST vote for a Most AND Least Favorite.
Poll
Get ready for some HOT, HOT, HOT drabbles!
A couple of things to remember when deciding which drabbles to vote for (most and least favorite):
Guidelines:
The “feedback” option.
As a voter, you have the option of leaving a brief statement about why you voted the way you did, for both most and least favorite. Your feedback will then be given to the drabble writer (if they want the feedback) ANONYMOUSLY.
Example: Most - #40: the ending was brilliant - OR - Least - #57: the ending fell flat
Now that all of that is done… We present the drabbles for week 2!!
RULES
[1] Choose your most favorite and least favorite drabbles. Favorites will receive +1 point per vote, and least favorites -1 point per vote. Each drabble’s MF and LF scores will be added together. Drabble with most points wins, drabbles with least TWO points are voted off.
[2] You may NOT vote for yourself.
Participants using a skip:
xxxsunny
alexajohnson
little_dollface
spikespetslayer
Voting ends at 11:59pm, Friday, June 26, 2009.
PROMPT:
“What dreadful hot weather we have! It keeps me in a continual state of inelegance.”
~ Jane Austen ~
1
Title: Sweat and Ancestors
Author: __vintagebomb
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Minor language.
Word Count: 279
It was common knowledge in the Wizarding world that Malfoys never sweat. They are cool, composed, and always presentable.
It was more than an unusual occurrence that Draco's face was red and blotchy. It was almost a disgrace that sweat was pouring down his face. He patted his brow with his embroidered handkerchief and cursed out the sun. What happened to the generations of perfect genes that were passed down to each Malfoy? And whose bloody idea was it to have brunch in the sweltering heat?
Draco glared at Harry across the picnic table. He wanted to swipe off that smug grin on his face. Potter was enjoying his misery too much and he certainly was not making this any easier for him.
He turned to his right and saw that Hermione was trying to stifle a giggle. "Don't give me that look, Malfoy. You promised me that you'd come. Besides, it isn't that bad. You're still alive with all your body parts attached, aren't you not?"
Draco narrowed his eyes at his bushy-haired girlfriend. He smelled like a Weasley who hadn't showered in a week and it was all her fault. His ancestors were clearly punishing him. He could almost hear them cursing in their graves: first about his girlfriend and now his meal at the Weasleys. He might as well be disowned!
"Now stop acting like you've got a stick up your arse and relax. It would mean the world to Molly if you have a great time today."
He let out a sigh as she leaned over and kissed him on the lips before giving him a pleading smile.
Ancestors, be damned.
She was worth it.
2
Title: Fight or Flight
Author: pokecharm
Rating: G
Warnings: Post-DH Epilogue
Word Count: 297
The window in the corner was letting in a wave of humid air, and Draco sat up slowly, thinking this might help clear the fog in his head. He didn’t quite recall how he’d gotten here, but his arm was throbbing and the heat was only making the pain in his head worse. He slid to the side, letting his legs hang off of the bed. He started to reach for a glass of water on a nearby table and saw the last person he expected standing in the doorway of his hospital room.
Hermione gave him a small smile and said apologetically, ‘You have me listed as your emergency contact.’
‘Right,’ he answered, shutting his eyes for a moment.
She kept her gaze down. ‘What was it this time?’
‘Hey!’ he snapped. ‘It was an accident, an actual one! I didn’t get into anything with anyone.’
She seemed to weigh the words slowly and then asked, ‘Then how did you get a concussion and dislocate your arm? That looks like more than one thing fell.’
‘It did,’ he said indignantly.
She sighed. ‘If you’re alright to get home, then I’ll see you…’
She didn’t finish her thought and he turned away from her, his anger mounting. She crossed the short distance between them and placed a hand on his cheek. ‘Tell me the truth.’
He tried to pull out of her grasp, but her cool hand was sending shivers down his spine, making it difficult to concentrate.
He replied quietly, ‘I am.’
She tilted her head and smirked at him. ‘Are you still cross with me?’
‘No,’ he replied without hesitation, and then added earnestly, ‘I miss you.’
‘Me too,’ she whispered.
‘Then stay,’ he pleaded.
She sighed and pulled away from him. ‘I can’t…not yet.’
3
Title: Draco's Trick
Author: megans_writing
Rating: PG
Warnings: Slight sexual references
Word Count: 267
Oh what a beautiful day, Hermione thought to herself. It was warm July day and the sky was completely clear of clouds. She lay on a beach chair reading a novel, wearing a tiny yellow bikini so she could get a tan.
"ARRGH!"
Hermione slid her sunglasses down her nose to see her husband storming out of the mansion. She did her best to suppress her laughter at his appearance. Draco looked hilarious wearing plaid shorts and flip-flips.
"This weather is unbearable!" he shouted.
"What? Does it keep you in a constant state of inelegance?"
"Yes! Yes it does!" he replied matter-of-factly. "My air conditioning spell in the house wore off, and I can't find my bloody wand." Draco outstretched his hand. "Give me yours."
"Why should I? You look absolutely ravishing when you're shirtless and sweating…"
Draco peered down to take a look at her book. "You've been reading too much Jane Austin, love." He smiled wickedly. "C'mon up here and give me a kiss."
Hermione rolled her eyes, put her book and wand down on the beach chair and stood up. Draco pulled her forward, kissing her roughly and squeezing her round arse.
"HAHA!" he cried in triumph and quickly ran back to the mansion.
Bewildered, Hermione glanced around. She gaped when she saw that her wand, that was on top of her novel, was gone. "How the hell did he do that? " she pondered. Hermione relaxed on the beach chair again, not wanting Draco to get the best of her. Oh well, maybe he'll continue what he started. She chuckled to herself.
4
Title: Restoration Committee.
Author: midnight_birth
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Very minor nudity.
Word Count: 296
"I hate this heat!" Draco scowled. "I need a break."
"We're already behind schedule.”
“What schedule? We're volunteers!"
"No." Hermione pursed her lips. "We're Hogwarts' official Restoration Committee. Besides, you're obligated to the Ministry to do this. So stop your whining.”
“I have been doing this!” Draco outstretched his arms to the side. “Look at me, Granger! I’ve been out here working like a house elf,” she shot him a murderous look, “every free second I have, and now with all this sun I’m sweaty, I smell like a hog, and I look ridiculous!”
Hermione stifled what conspicuously sounded like a chuckle and turned away quickly, though he noticed.
“You’re wearing about a thousand layers,” she told him practically. “Besides, who cares what you look like?
Draco grinned maliciously. With a shrug, he pulled off his sweater in one swift movement. Pulling on his shirt, making most of the buttons come loose, he shrugged out of that as well. It was only when he loosened his belt buckle that Hermione spun around at the sound.
“Malfoy, what are you doing? she shrieked immediately, bringing her hand to cover her eyes and turning beet red. When Draco didn’t stop, she waved at him frantically. “What are you... Stop it, put those back on!”
Draco paused with his trousers around his knees, his fingers hooked into the waistline of his pants, and raised a brow with a smirk.
Hermione turned around, her eyes on the ground and her cheeks burning crimson. “Take a break!” she hissed. “Get out of my sight!”
With a knowing nod, Draco pulled up his trousers and strolled away, leaving the rest of his clothes behind. Hermione made sure she commanded herself not to look until he walked out of her reach of vision.
5
Title: The Summer Swelter
Author: nightfalltwen
Rating: PG
Warnings: Use of Fahrenheit for temperatures. Although celsius has been used by the UK since the 1970s, the wizarding world, as we know, is resistant to change. ;)
Word Count: 300
Air conditioning, still relatively unknown in Muggle England, is definitely not found in the Ministry of Magic. On days when the temperature outside reaches into the nineties and barely dips below the high seventies at night, The Ministry of Magic becomes unbearable. Cooling charms can only do so much. And even the magic that floats through the air feels like a heavy, humid blanket.
Not to mention the smells.
Draco hates his office, no window or vent. Hellfire and damnation and a pox on the idea of seniority! What good is the Malfoy fortune if it can't buy him a more comfortable place to work?!
So. Occasionally, like today, he takes off his shoes and presses his bare feet flat against the flagstones that make up the floor. It's a brief respite from the temperature and makes him feel less wilted and rumpled and sweaty and disgusting.
"Ice water?" Hermione asks, poking her head into his office. He's not surprised that she's here; she comes every day with something cold to drink. After all, it is her announcements that float through the corridors reminding everyone about the importance of fluids.
He nods.
She pours.
Condensation slips down the glass. He's not watching the glass; he's watching a bead of sweat slide down her neck, across her collarbone and down further toward her décolletage. Damn lucky bead of sweat. Were he a weaker man, he would follow that bead of sweat himself. But he's a strong man. Stronger than one might think. He's lived through an attack by a vicious hippogriff and stood in the presence of the Dark Lord.
She leans and holds out the glass to him; their fingers touch. The temperature goes even higher.
Draco finds that he is actually not a strong man and pulls her closer.
6
Title: Hot Couple
Author: bookishwench
Rating: G
Warnings: none
Word Count: 300
Hermione thought she must’ve done something horrendous and died without realizing it because never before had she felt this hot.
Certainly never in January.
“Those Weasley twins!” she mumbled. “If they want to annoy Umbridge, why couldn’t they confine the frying charm to her office?”
“Neaten up!” a mirror yelled at her, and she stopped to inspect the damage.
She made a doomed effort to straighten her perspiration-drenched curls, but as she glared at the mirror, she noticed someone smirking behind her. Not one hair on Malfoy’s head was out of place, and he looked perfectly cool.
“Why aren’t you hot?” she asked.
“Please! Everyone thinks I’m hot,” Draco said.
“No, really, why aren’t you dying of heat?” she said.
“I’ve no idea what you’re talking about. It’s rather chilly today,” he lied.
“I should’ve known better than to ask one of Umbridge’s goon squad!” Hermione said, grimacing once the words slipped out. “How many points was that?”
“Fifty. Or perhaps you’d rather spend detention shoveling wood into the school fireplaces with your beloved House-elves for the next three hours? That’ll warm you up,” Draco said.
“I’ll work with the elves,” Hermione said, lifting her chin defiantly.
Draco’s grin faltered.
“You don’t mean that,” he said. “This heat… you’ll get sick!”
“Gryffindor is already down 546 points. Any punishments the Inquisitorial Squad gives are charmed to be binding, right?” she said.
“But… I didn’t mean…,” he stammered. “Be reasonable! Take the fifty points!”
“I’ll report to the kitchens,” she said, turning on her heel.
She didn’t see Draco’s truly alarmed expression, but before she’d gone ten paces, she felt a fresh, cooling breeze travelling with her.
She also didn’t see Draco suddenly dripping sweat or hear him grumbling, “Why does it work on only one person at a time? Why?”
7
Title: Alas I Cannot Swim
Author: spadul
Rating: G
Warnings: None!
Word Count: 300
“It says here that the herb should grow on the southern bank of the lake, under the cover of darkness where it cannot be tainted by moonlight.” Hermione puzzled over the book for a moment longer, before snapping attention to her counterpart. Her eyes widened and she shouted in shock. “Malfoy!”
His eyes lazily swept over her face, his fingers deftly unbuttoning his crisp oxford. “I've read the text, Granger.”
“What are you doing?” Her tone was rushed, and by the desperate way she clutched onto her book one could even detect embarrassment.
“It's hotter than a dragon's nostril out here, Granger, what would you rather I do?” He cuffed his uniform trousers under his knees, and shot her a sly grin as he slowly waded into the water.
“We have work to do, Malfoy, for a grade. We can't just muck about as we please.” She crossed her arms and frowned severely as Draco dove underwater, completely disregarding her wishes. She stomped to the edge of the lake and glared at him as he emerged from the surface, water dripping from his wayward blonde locks. She thrust her hand out sternly, her voice resonating like a harsh growl. “Out, now.”
He rolled his eyes and smirked, paddling towards the shore. “Whatever you wish, Granger.” His wet hand grasped onto hers, and she should have noted the look of joy crinkling in his eyes, for within moments she was headed straight towards the lake's surface. Her body met with an ungraceful splash, and flailing madly, she broke the surface, sputtering and gasping for air in thick heaves.
“Five points from Gryffindor, Granger. Your nautical skills are a mockery to this entire establishment.”
Hermione wiped the water from her eyes and glared, actively imagining all the ways she could seek revenge.
8
Title: Fall
Author: terravayne
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: none, one curse word
Word Count: 300
A man stood atop the cliff the locals called Dead Man’s Bluff, peering down into the craggy waters. They were rumored to claim a life every year despite wooden signs along the path banning divers and proclaiming in bold, splashy letters that there’s still so much to live for.
Hermione swiped at her sweaty neck with a napkin, wadding it up with the rest of her picnic. If she squinted, the man looked faintly familiar, his unbuttoned shirt slapping against his back in the wind. Then he unhooked his belt, and she was tearing up the hill. “Wait!” she yelled.
He turned slowly. “Malfoy?” she exclaimed.
His eyes flickered down to her panting face as she doubled over, legs burning. “What do you want?”
“What do I want? I want to go to the beach without your lunatic death on my conscience!”
Malfoy laughed, sharp and startling in its lack of derision. “Granger, I’ve been diving here since I was old enough to understand dares.”
“But the signs-”
“You always going to follow streetlights and inspirational tripe on billboards? Take a fucking chance, Granger. Jaywalk.” He shrugged off his shirt and it blew over the edge. “It’s like flying. A thousand times better than a broomstick.”
“Until you bash your head in,” she responded tartly.
“Yeah, it’s terrifying. But it’s the only way I know that I’m not afraid. Of falling.”
“Afraid of-but you play Quidditch!”
“So? You ever wonder why Potter always won? Bastard’s fearless.” Malfoy kicked off his shoes and perched on the ledge. “See you on the beach, Granger.”
“Wait!” Hermione dashed to the edge in time to see his arms arched out like wings, body hurtling in freefall.
It must’ve been a trick of the light, because she could’ve sworn she saw him soar.
9
Title: The joys of Hay fever
Author: teenage_hustler
Rating: G
Words: 275
Warnings: None.
Draco stood up and mopped the perspiration from his sunburnt brow. After spending the morning tending to his garden; a process that always seemed more like an all-out war against magical flora than anything else, he felt he deserved a break. He removed his gardening gloves and wellingtons, lay them beside the front door and entered his house.
He was greeted by the sound of loud sneezing; the kind that can only ever be produced by sufferers of chronic hay fever. Checking that no deadly plant traces were stuck to his clothes, he stepped into the living room.
His wife was lying on their leather couch, wiping pathetically at her dripping nose. Even though it was the middle of summer she hadn’t showered for at least 48 hours, and the thin, slightly damp clothes hanging from her body had started to smell. As for her hair, Draco swore he could hear the hairdressers of the world simultaneously committing suicide. Some of her brown curls had stuck onto her sweaty face and neck, while other large chunks had moulded themselves into indeterminable lumps that stuck out at odd angles. A well-worn box of tissues lay on the table beside her, the bin underneath already full to bursting with tissues previously used. It was amazing how the summer weather always managed to reduce his normally clean-cut and elegant wife into such a dilapidated state.
At that moment she sensed his presence and turned to look at him through weeping, bloodshot eyes.
“What?” Hermione asked, although her nose was so blocked it sounded more like “Wodd?”
Draco shook his head and smiled at her.
“You’re beautiful,” he said.
10
Title: Opposing Points of View
Author: ayane_tsurugi
Rating: G
Warnings: None.
Word Count: 142
One of the first things Draco had learned about his wife was that she hated hot weather.
She said that it made her hair bigger and more unmanageable than ever, but he couldn’t see it.
She said that the heat made her sweaty and disgusting, but he couldn’t see it.
She said that the sun burnt her to a crisp, but he couldn’t see it.
All he saw was her face as she pulled her hair back into a ponytail, the smile on her lips when they made shapes out of the water from the ice cubes they’d let melt on their skin as they laid outside, and the suggestive eyebrow she raised whenever she handed him the bottle of sun block and asked him to cover her back.
Hermione hated hot weather, but Draco just couldn't see why. He loved it.
11
Title: A Not-So-Crisp White Shirt
Author: queen_violet
Rating: PG
Warnings: A really hot, half-naked Draco. And one bad word.
Word Count: 201
He was leaning against the balcony, his not-so-crisp white shirt tossed aside carelessly. And if she hadn't known better, she'd’ve said that his tousled hair had been styled into that state of perfect inelegance. But no, that was the effect of running one's hands through it. She smiled. She would know.
She caught herself ogling her husband and shook herself out of her reverie.
"Stressful day, love?" she asked him.
He snorted. "As if there's any other kind."
She sighed and walked over to stand next to him at the railing. "I know." She was quiet for a minute, staring out at the fields behind the Manor. "What was the emergency meeting about?" she asked.
He laughed once, bitterly. "I have no idea."
She moved to stand behind him, resting her chin on his bare, sweaty shoulder. "That bad?"
"Yeah. The cooling charms still aren't working. It was so bloody hot, nobody could concentrate."
"Poor baby," she murmured, and began to rub his shoulders.
He sighed happily. Her fingers dug into his back, tugging the stress from his muscles. As her palms drifted up his back, he let his forehead drop to the railing.
“Thanks,” he whispered.
She smiled. “You’re welcome.”
ooo.&&&.ooo
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