Disclaimer: I wish I owned Cormac McLaggen and his sexiness, but we can't always get what we want now, yeah? So yep, I don't own anything!

A/N: Y'all, so this is some cute/fluffy (with a hint of super duper tiny steaminess) Cormac/Hermione one-shot. The inspiration for this fic was stemmed from seeing pictures of Freddie Stroma (AKA Cormac McLaggen) and damn gurllll, I actually forgot he was such an eye candy in the movie. Okay, yes, I know he's super unlikeable in the books and whatever. I just thought that if he really did notice Hermione when other boys were being too blind and stupid to actually make a move on her, then perhaps Cormac DID really like Hermione. So bada ding, bada boom, this baby is born. I found some really nice fanfics of this pairing and am sorely disappointed at how little they have.

Actually, this had been sitting neglected in my laptop for seven months already. I've only been able to write the first part and subsequently had severe writer's block. By some miracle, I was able to come back to this today and finish it in one sitting (YAY ME!). This is rated T, though it's leaning towards a hard T, so you've been warned.

I tried my very best to make him a little likeable in this fic. I'm not really sure if he's a little OOC. I've read the books ages ago and he really did not have enough scenes and shizz.

This story isn't beta-ed, too, so if you see any glaring mistakes, I apologize in advance.

Anyway, enjoy! Don't forget to review!

Title: Returning Favors
Author: WickedlyAwesomeMe
Language: English
Form: One-shot
Genre: Romance/General
Rating: T
Warning: Cormac's lovely potty mouth. Tons of innuendos. No sex, though, so I decided that this will be a hard T instead.
Pairing: Hermione Granger/Cormac McLaggen
Summary: He had saved her pretty arse one too many times. Cormac McLaggen thought it was time for some payback.

Returning Favors

November 30, 1994

Cormac McLaggen knew that if he failed his OWLs, his father would disown him.

He also knew he was devilishly handsome, with girls swooning at his feet whenever he strutted his stuff in the Hogwarts corridors, but there were moments like today when he wished the great powers above bestowed him with intelligence instead. He was all muscle and action, which was why he wasn't sorted in Ravenclaw in the first place, and fifteen-year-old him still couldn't grasp the importance of studying.

He thought it was highly unfair that the Triwizard Tournament was conducted on the same year of his OWLs. While the other years were muttering excitedly with each other, commenting about the conclusion of the First Task and what the Second Task might be, he was holed up in this god-forsaken library, memorizing all the plant properties of stupid, stupid Gillyweed.

Groaning in exasperation, he let his forehead hit the tabletop. Who the hell liked to bloody study anyway? It was the bane of his existence and he'd rather much play Quidditch than study for his OWLs. Speaking of Quidditch, he was still rather sore with Dumbledore for cancelling said sports just to make way for the Triwizard Tournament.

Suffice it to say, his fifth year in Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was bullshit. He couldn't wait for summer to begin.

Cormac was then startled when someone suddenly sat on the chair opposite him. Looking at the intruder, he couldn't help but let his eyes widen in disbelief. Flushing slightly, both in embarrassment and frustration to the great cosmic above, he couldn't believe his eyes when Hermione Granger chose to sit on the table with him.

Now, he was known as a cocky, arrogant Gryffindor, with an ego that would greatly rival Draco Malfoy's. He had been told quite frequently his confidence was astounding, and most of the time he took it as a compliment, when really they weren't. His attitude came with perks; girls threw themselves at his feet too often enough to elicit some jealous rage from the other adolescent boys. What others did not know about him, however, that he only had his eyes on a particular, fourth year, bushy-haired Gryffindor for years.

"Fancy seeing you here, Granger," he said with that arrogant smirk on his face.

The brunette blinked at him in surprise, as if she did not recognize him at first, before she finally grimaced. "McLaggen," she curtly said. "I - " Whatever she was meant to say was left unheard, as a gaggle of giggling girls reached their table and promptly made her flinch. Immediately, Hermione hid her face behind a battered copy of Quidditch Through the Ages and scowled.

"Are they gone?"

"Who?" he asked, raising an eyebrow as the group of giggling girls passed by their table. He sent a charming smirk their way and they giggled amongst themselves once more.

"What the hell are you doing?" Hermione hissed, book still hiding her face, whilst glaring darkly at him. She held her breath until they were finally gone, and Cormac raised an eyebrow in curiosity. "Are they gone?" she asked once more.

"Yeah," he slowly answered.

Hermione released her breath in a loud whoosh and placed the book back on the table. "Well, good bye then," she said as she stood up from her chair.

"Hey, hey, hey, not so fast," he said, grasping onto her wrist to stop her from leaving.

She lightly glared at his hand and he immediately retrieved it away. "What do you want?" she demanded, crossing her arms against her chest.

"Yes, well, I think I need an explanation as to why you disrupted my studying," he retorted back, leaving the tiny detail that he hadn't really been studying at all and thus, she did not disrupt anything.

Her eyes widened a little when they darted on the piles of fifth year books and parchments in front of him. "Merlin, I apologize," she said, looking genuinely remorseful. "I was too… distracted, I didn't notice."

He smirked. Trust Hermione Granger to become all apologetic when she knew she caused some diversion from any academic activities. "So, why are you running away from them?" he inquired, leaning slightly back on his chair to look at her fully.

Hermione looked conflicted for a while before sighing and plopping back on her seat again. Her cheeks grew pinker and she avoided his gaze. "They were… umm… Viktor's fangirls and let us just say that they don't like me. At all."

His eyes grew wide. "Viktor? As in Viktor Krum?"

"Yeah," she slowly said. "You know him?" Upon seeing the incredulous look on his face, she released a soft snort. "Oh right, of course. Just like Harry and Ron, you're a Quidditch fanatic yourself."

"Why are you being pestered by Krum's horde of fangirls?" he demanded.

She blushed once more. "Err, well, they caught him talking with me most of the time when he's in the library," she said all in one breath, but Cormac thankfully caught them. "I think they have this… this ridiculous notion he'll ask me as his, you know, err… date in the Yule Ball."

Cormac almost congratulated himself aloud when he managed not to scowl. Of course, how could he forget? The whole school was abuzz with the said traditional ball of the Triwizard Tournament. Girls had been batting their eyes at him to give him a go signal, but he merely ignored them all.

"Anyway, I think I've bothered long enough," she said, complete with a sheepish, apologetic smile. "Thanks for not selling me out to those girls. I owe you one."

He pursed his lips and merely nodded his head.

Hermione still looked conflicted and Cormac waited for her to speak up. "Wait," she said, "since you're a Quidditch fan, maybe I can ask for Viktor's autograph for you? I feel horrible for bothering you, when you're studying for OWLs."

An incredulous look appeared on his face, but he managed to mutter a haste, "Don't bother", prompting the brunette to frown.

"You sure?" she asked.

Cormac quickly schooled his features and smirked widely at Hermione. "Hold on to that favor, yeah?" he asked. "One day, I'll ask for it."

She looked suspicious, but nonetheless nodded her head. "Fine," she said with a sigh. "Goodbye then. And good luck to your OWLs."

Hermione finally left his table and by the time she was gone, Cormac was unable to suppress his scowl any longer.

"Damn it, Granger," he muttered to himself. He wasn't even a fan of Viktor Krum. Aidan Lynch was fucking better.

December 20, 1996

"You're using me."

It wasn't an accusation, really, more of like resigned acceptance. Cormac bloody well knew something was wrong when Hermione Granger approached him out-of-the-blue and invited him to be her date for Slug Club's Christmas Party. Last time he checked, she was head-over-heals in love with Ronald Freaking Weasley and he had no chance to woo her heart.

The look on her face was priceless and Cormac managed to crack a small smirk, despite how his stomach was sickly twisting. She might have thought he was an idiot not to know her real motive for inviting him, and it made him a tiny bit angry.

Yeah, actually, fucking hell, he was a lot angry.

"E-excuse me?" Hermione

Cormac rolled his eyes. "Don't play dumb, Hermione," he spat, maybe a tad too bitterly. "You've always been the smartest witch I've ever known. I think you know what I'm talking about."

"I-I'm sorry," she stuttered, horror in her eyes as she took a few steps back. The conjured speakers in the room were blasting with some inane Wizard Christmas carol for some holiday cheer, but all Cormac could hear was the pounding in his ears.

How dare she played him and lead him on. How dare she thought he would be blind enough from discovering the truth. But most importantly, how dare he for even thinking one bloody second that the girl he had been in love with for years finally, finally noticed him.

Now, Cormac McLaggen may be a bloody bastard and arrogant in their eyes. Of course he knew that; he heard them talk all the time and he did not give one whit to what they think of him. But fuck it all, he had feelings too, and once again, ladies and gentlemen, Hermione Granger broke his bloody heart.

They were nearing the walls of the room and Hermione made another desperate attempt to step back. Eyes widening, she realized she couldn't and gave him an accusatory glare. Cormac rolled his eyes, affronted that she thought he would hex her because of his anger. He may be bloody apoplectic with rage, but he would never, ever curse a girl.

"There's a bewitched mistletoe, Granger," he snapped, pointing at the hovering plant above her head.

Her eyes widened once more and followed his finger. True enough, an innocent mistletoe hung above her head. Cormac took a step back to see if he was also stuck, but was relieved to know that the enchantment still had not reached him.

"I guess you're the only one stuck," he pointed out, lifting a perfectly arched blond eyebrow. Cormac took another step back. "Well, goodbye." He then proceeded to turn around, but Hermione managed to lurch forward and grab his arm.

"Where are you going?" she cried in a breathy whisper.

Cormac fisted his hands and glared over his shoulder. "Since I bloody understood this isn't really a date," he started, "I think I'd rather call it a night."

"You can't leave me here," she pleaded. He watched as her eyes nervously darted at the vampire Slughorn had introduced to them both a while ago. Said vampire was intensely staring at Hermione and Cormac hazarded a guess the creature wouldn't stop at merely giving her a kiss to release her from the enchanted mistletoe. He couldn't really fault the vampire; the creamy expanse of her exposed neck was too tempting to ignore.

Sighing, Cormac pulled away and warily gazed down at her desperate, honey-colored eyes. "I'll go get Weasley, if you'd like," he grumbled. "I'm sure better him than me, eh?"

Overwhelming guilt clouded her pretty eyes. "I'm really sorry, Cormac," she said, crumpling her fingers around the sleeves of his dress robes. "I… what I did wasn't nice. And you don't deserve this."

"What do you want me to do then, Hermione?"

There was hesitation in her eyes, but she steadfastly lifted her chin and pointed at the mistletoe over her head. "Perhaps break me out from this?" she asked.

Nerves clotted in his throat and he could feel a small blush forming in his cheeks. He had admittedly imagined that today would end quite differently – if he was being really, truly honest with himself, he hoped there would be less people and less clothes around. He was still angry with how this day ended, but he really couldn't leave her alone when a vampire was waiting to pounce on her now, could he?

"You owe me," he murmured with a tired sigh as he took the few remaining steps toward her. He could already feel the enchantment of the mistletoe and figured it was too late to back down. "And I don't only mean by breaking away the enchantment, Granger."

Hermione resolutely nodded her head and closed her eyes tightly. Cormac looked down at her pretty face – she was devastatingly gorgeous today – and sadly smiled. Then, he slowly bent down and placed a kiss on her pink lips. His lips barely pressed against hers but Hermione was already stumbling away. The enchanted mistletoe was already gone, merrily zooming all over the room to find another victim.

"I'm really sorry, Cormac," she said with guilty eyes. "I…" Hermione took a deep breath. "I didn't mean to hurt you."

Cormac snorted before he could stop himself. "Hurt me?" he thought. He managed to crack a small smile on his face and hoped against hope she wouldn't notice how shaky it was. "Don't flatter yourself, Hermione. You might be the prettiest person in this room, but I'm sure I can snag someone once you run off to your boyfriend."

"Ron isn't my boyfriend," she grounded out, a lovely blush on her cheeks.

"Well, he's an idiot then," he sighed. Hermione gave him a small, pretty and sad smile and his heart couldn't take it anymore. "Anyway, goodbye and have a nice evening."

He turned away first and walked away, already picturing his bed in their dormitories. He managed to snag a few bottles of firewhiskeys and pocketed them in his dress robes.

Strolling back to the Gryffindor Common Room, Cormac vowed to himself that he would never think about Hermione Granger anymore once tomorrow came. But for tonight, he'd drown himself in his sorrows and mentally curse himself for even loving someone he could never have.

September 2, 1997

It wasn't what he had always wanted to be once he grew up, but Cormac knew this job was necessary for the Order. After all, they were at war.

It took a lot of convincing and nights of practicing occlumency, but somehow, he managed to earn a spot as an auror in the Ministry of Magic. It greatly helped that he was also related to Tiberius McLaggen; he hadn't really heard anything about his uncle for years, but from what the Order told him, he was a staunch supporter of Voldemort's cause. The ministry thought the ideologies would run in the family and immediately hired him.

Infiltrated with numerous Death Eaters and cronies of Voldemort, the Order needed someone inside the ministry to act as their eyes. He had volunteered without hesitation, knowing that as a graduate of the House of Gryffindor, he was perfect for the job.

"McLaggen," a middle-aged, balding man greeted. Cormac, unable to remember his name, merely nodded his head in reply.

He walked towards the lifts, intent on burying himself with work just to get him through the day. Fraternizing with the enemies had made his skin crawl and he had to bite his remarks back every time lewd comments about Muggles and Muggle-borns were carelessly thrown around in the office. He was severely tempted to blast these good-for-nothing wizards into smithereens, but Cormac desperately wanted the war to end. It wouldn't do them any good if he already blew his cover.

The lifts dinged open once more and at least five people hastily ushered inside. He was able to recognize Mafalda Hopkirk from the Improper Use of Magic Office and Albert Runcorn. The latter had been making a buzz in the ministry for exposing Dirk Cresswall as a fraud for falsifying his family tree. From what he had heard, Runcorn was one of the most fearsome investigators in the Muggle-born Registration Commission.

Sneering, Cormac pressed himself against the very back, not wanting to associate himself further with this imbecile. It had made his blood boil when a new department was announced, claiming to investigate any suspected Muggle-borns and incessantly interrogate them on how they 'stole' magic. He hadn't really known anything about this commission, but he hazarded that their means of interrogation were nowhere near pleasant, much less legal.

"You have to get out of the country," Mafalda breathlessly told the other people in the lift. "Flee with your families! This place isn't safe for Muggle-borns like you anymore."

Cormac's eyes comically widened and shot an alarmed glance at Albert Runcorn. But then, instead of the intimidating investigator, there was Harry Potter in Runcorn's clothes.

"Where's Ron?" Potter worriedly asked, glancing wildly at Mafalda.

There were tears in the older witch's eyes. "I don't know," she confessed.

Cormac, still an unnoticed shadow in the corner, took a deep breath and swore. If his deductions were right, then Mafalda Hopkrik might be Hermione Granger.

As if on cue, Mafalda started to change before his eyes. Huge, curly hair tumbled out from her head and she grew thinner and smaller. She might have looked gaunter and disheveled, but it was unmistakably her.

"Her-Hermione?"

The other occupants in the lift stiffened in fright. Harry and Hermione were quick to point their wands at him, and Cormac hastily lifted his hands in defense.

"It's Cormac McLaggen," he announced.

Hermione's eyes widened in recognition, her wand slightly lowering down. Harry, however, refused to lower his wand.

"I'm on your side, Potter. Blimey," the older wizard said with an eye roll.

"What are you doing here?" Harry stupidly asked.

"Yes, well, I work here," he snapped, gesturing widely with his hands. Harry growled, prompting him to sigh. "I'm under strict orders by the Order of the Phoenix to work in the ministry and relay any important information that might help our cause."

Harry still looked highly suspicious. He couldn't really blame The-Boy-Who-Lived; Cormac was atrocious and boisterous during their Hogwarts years and they weren't exactly on friendly terms. His eyes instead settled on Hermione, who had gone quiet throughout the small exchange. "Long time no see, Granger," he said, one corner of his mouth lifting.

It had honestly been too long. Ever since their disastrous date in the Slug Club's Christmas party, Cormac had tried his very best to steer clear from the brunette. He hadn't given her any glance anymore and the only thing he knew about her was that she was on the run with her best friends doing some Merlin-knows-what. Even the Order had no definite idea what they were doing. All they knew was that Dumbledore gave them strict orders before his death.

"We have to find Ron," Harry then grounded out, capturing Hermione's attention once again. Then, to the other Muggle-borns, he ordered, "You must go now!"

Cormac's attention shifted to the other Muggle-borns in the lift. He slowly pulled out his wand and kept his eyes on Harry, lest triggering Potter into a nervous hexing spree, and conjured a small piece of paper. Both Harry and Hermione warily gazed at him when he approached one of the Muggle-borns.

"This is one of the Order safe houses," he said, passing over the address to the witch. "The Order will be alerted once you occupied this house. There will be enough food for your family." Tears sprung in the eyes of the witch and Cormac smiled at her reassuringly. "You are safe, as long as you are here. Now go! Before they catch you."

All three Muggle-borns glanced at the piece of paper and disapparated, leaving Cormac alone with Harry and Hermione.

"Thank you."

Cormac blinked in surprise, seeing that Hermione had spoken for the first time. Before he could reply, the lifts dinged open and they readied their wands just in case.

Reginald Cattermole stumbled inside, his hair a weird ensemble of ginger and grey hair. "Oh blimey, you're all right," the ministry employee claimed, sagging in relief. Hermione threw her arms around the older wizard and Cormac guessed this was Ronald Weasley in disguise.

"You lot are fucking stupid for even attempting to infiltrate the ministry," Cormac snarled from behind.

Ron's eyes widened in recognition. "McLaggen?" he sputtered out as he finally completely reverted back to his original self. His face was steadily turning purple in anger. "What the hell are you doing here?"

Cormac rolled his eyes, about to snap an insult back, but then stiffened when an unbearable cold filled the lifts.

"Dementors," Hermione gasped, violently shivering and hugging herself.

"You have to get the fuck away from here now!" Cormac exclaimed in urgency.

"But what about you?" Hermione cried, gripping his arm in fright. "If they discovered you let us get away, you'd be severely punished."

The gears inside his head turned and turned until a plausible plan conjured in his mind. "Hex me," he ordered. "If they find me knocked out cold while you all got away, they'd think I was outnumbered and unable to stop you lot."

Cormac blinked and scowled, suddenly feeling the desperation that always accompanied the presence of a dementor. "Come on, Hermione," he said, particularly ignoring the memory of the Slug Club's Christmas Party. "They're near."

"McLaggen," Potter gratefully said. "Thank you. We owe you one."

His eyes never left Hermione's honey-colored ones. "You owe me one," he echoed.

Hermione resolutely nodded her head and pressed the tip of her wand against his chest. Despite the despairing thoughts plaguing his mind, his heart couldn't help but leap with joy at her sight. He had promised himself, day-in and day-out, that he would forget her and move on. But how could one forget about Hermione Granger? She was a force to be reckoned with and had stubbornly wedged herself in his heart, unwilling to let go. Every night, before Cormac went to sleep, he just had to listen to Potterwatch on any news about her just to put his heart at ease. He always slept a little better when he knew her name was not included in the list of the dead.

"Thank you, Cormac," Hermione whispered as a tear trailed down her eye. "Stupefy."

At the same time, Cormac was able to see a bright light from Harry's Patronus Charm before he succumbed into darkness.

The next time he woke up, the Golden Trio were gone. Umbridge was hovering over his form, an ugly grimace on her big, toady face. Other ministry officials flanked her side, and he was able to spot the real Runcorn amongst them. "You let them get away!" she hysterically claimed, pointing a pudgy finger at his form.

Cormac groaned and sat up, nursing his head. "Forgive me," he tersely replied. "I was outnumbered."

Umbridge was violently shaking with anger, her face slowly matching the color of her atrocious pink robes. Cormac held his breath, afraid that she would snap and throw an Unforgiveable at him. It was only when she stomped away did he start breathing properly again.

May 2, 1998

His stomach turned at the sight of Lavendar Brown's lifeless body sprawled messily on the red-soaked grass of the Hogwarts ground. There were plenty of fallen bodies around, but it had made him queasier when he spied another familiar face amongst the sea of dead people.

Cormac swallowed the forming bile as he jumped over bloodied bodies. His wand was poised to hex, blindly sending curses hither thither. He didn't really double check anymore if they were on his side or not. All he could think about was self-preservation, murmuring a quiet apology to anyone he had hexed in the Light Side.

Running inside Hogwarts, the Great Hall was now reduced to a great rubble. The long tables were thrown to the sides and he even spied the Gryffindor table blown into a million pieces. His heart lurched at the sight of the place he had once called home, but there was no time for nostalgic reminiscing right now.

He ran throughout the expanse of the moving staircases with no clear destination in mind. With adrenaline pumping through his veins, he dodged any hexes with perfect ease, threw jinxes that immobilized any of his foes, and hid behind alcoves to briefly catch his breath.

The sixth floor was devoid of any commotion and Cormac thought it would be best if he took a quick break. Jogging at the closest room, he threw the door open and stumbled inside. The classroom was bathed in darkness and Cormac conjured a small light to aid him in scanning for any nefarious people around.

A hex was at the tip of his tongue, spying a sprawled body at the very back of the room. But then, when he recognized the familiar bushy hair of Hermione Granger, all blood drained away from his face.

"Hermione?" he called, skidding through the floor and falling down onto his knees. To his relief, the brunette was breathing, albeit shallowly. There was a huge gash on her abdomen and her right arm was twisted in an odd angle. Cormac immediately slashed through his robes and pressed it against her abdomen to stop the bleeding.

"Co-Cormac?" she weakly asked, peering at him.

He slowly nodded his head as he grimaced at all the scrapes on her face. Cormac then mindlessly locked the door and illuminated the whole room so he could properly look at the extent of Hermione's injuries.

Now with proper lighting, she was worse than what he had originally thought. Her lips were bloodied and bruised and her left knee was bleeding. Anger boiled throughout his system, cursing whoever had caused this. Cormac muttered healing spells and waved his wand, managing to cure some of her minor injuries.

"This will hurt," he seriously said, pointing at her broken arm. Tears of pain were already leaking from her eyes, but Hermione nodded in consent. "Brackium Emendo."

The sickening crunch of mending bones echoed in the whole room, mingling with Hermione's cry of unimaginable pain. More tears tumbled down from her eyes and she was breathing hard through her nose.

Cormac bent down and wiped away her tears, almost too gently. "I… I don't know how to fix your abdomen," he confessed, fear gripping his heart when the simple healing spells he knew had no effect on her wound.

Hermione weakly pulled out a beaded purse from her pocket and passed it on to him. "There's a… there's a…" She paused and gasped in pain. "There's a violet potion inside."

He nodded his head and pawed through the bag. It frustrated him that this beautiful, magnificent, annoying witch was too smart for her own good; her bag was almost bottomless with an advanced spell and it took him almost a minute before he finally found the potion.

He uncorked the vial and helped her swallow it down. To his utmost relief, the bleeding on her abdomen had receded and the wound started stitching itself.

Hermione allowed herself to lie down for a few more minutes, before slowly easing herself up. Cormac had gripped her arm for support, earning him a weak smile from the brunette. "I guess I owe you another one?" she asked, sniffing daintily as more tears streamed down from her face.

Cormac reached forward and gently brushed them away. His heart thudded wildly inside his ribcage when her eyes fluttered close with his ministrations.

"I have to go," she then said, finally pushing herself back onto her feet. Cormac blinked at her in surprise and also stood up. He wanted to protest that she was still too weak from the beating she had received, but Hermione already shook her head and placed a hand on his arm. "I am needed."

He nodded, because he knew he was powerless to stop her. "I know," he replied. Hermione smiled at him and ran towards the door, but he stopped her by calling her name. "Hermione."

She turned around and looked at him questioningly.

"Give them hell."

Her eyes lit up in amusement and Cormac found himself taking a sharp intake of breath. This… this was the witch he had been in love with all these years.

"I will," she said with a resolute nod, before finally leaving the room.

February 14, 2002

"Fancy seeing you here, Granger."

The relief on her face was monumental and Cormac had to stop himself from bursting into boisterous laughter. "Cormac," she greeted, maybe a tad too enthusiastically. She then gestured at the wizard sitting across from her. "Cormac, this is Edward Bates from the Department of Magical Games and Sport. Edward, meet Cormac, my colleague in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement."

"Ah, McLaggen," Edward said, thrusting out his hand for a handshake. Cormac gripped his hand and gave it a slight shake. He might have grabbed his hand tight, judging from his slight wince, but Edward didn't bother pointing it out. "I saw you play during the department Quidditch match last week and mate, you have some serious talent as a Keeper. Have you ever thought of joining a Quidditch team?"

Cormac's lips twitched in amusement. He made a wild guess this man was practically brimming with Quidditch love; no wonder Hermione was having an atrocious time. "I did think about being a professional Quidditch player," he said. "But I must confess, the war had changed me and I felt compelled to become an auror instead."

"That is too bad, truly," Edward sadly said, a hand over his heart. Cormac had to purse his lips tighter when he saw Hermione's magnificent eye roll. "I heard that there's an opening in the Puddlemere United. Oliver Wood is on an indefinite leave, seeing that he's about to get married, and the team is already searching for a new replacement. Please think about this thoroughly and owl me if you reconsider."

The wiry wizard pulled out a card from his pocket and passed it over to Cormac.

"Thanks mate, I'll think about it," Cormac said with utmost seriousness. He winced a bit when he felt Hermione kicking his shin under the table. "But I'm terribly sorry for intruding your… err… date, but our department head called so I have to snatch Hermione away from you."

"Oh, right, duty calls," Edward said, sounding a little disappointed at their disrupted meal. "I'm sorry that our date is cut short, but I do wish to take you out to dinner next time, Hermione."

Cormac covered his snort with a cough, earning him a glare from the brunette. "I'll keep that in mind, Edward," she promised. "Thank you for the lovely dinner."

Before Edward could reply, Hermione was already pulling Cormac out of the fancy, Muggle Italian restaurant.

As soon as they stepped into the cool streets of Muggle London, Cormac doubled over and started to heartily laugh. Hermione swore and weakly punched him in the arm, but he could see that she was also fighting back a smile.

"All he could talk about was Quidditch," she whined, crossing her arm against her wonderful dress. Cormac's eyes almost bulged out at how her breasts perked up a bit with her actions. "Damn it, Ginny, what were you thinking?!"

"I came over as soon as I received your patronus," Cormac said, eyes still shining with mirth. He brushed away some tears from his eyes and grinned. "Merlin, you must really be desperate to send your fucking patronus, Granger."

"I don't even know why I bloody agreed to this nonsense!" she exclaimed, stomping away from the restaurant. "I told her I was perfectly content in having chick flick marathons in front of my television while devouring a whole box of pizza."

Cormac raised an eyebrow in amusement. "That is honestly the saddest Valentine's plan I've ever heard," he said, jogging to catch up to her. "I'm sure Ginny just wanted you to be happy today, Hermione."

"Well, today went splendidly, all right," she bit back sarcastically. Then, glancing up at him, she frowned. "What are you still doing here? Don't you have a date? I'm honestly a little surprised you showed up."

He looked down at his handsome tuxedo and blinked. He was in the middle of a dinner with a lovely blonde, but when he received Hermione's S.O.S., he immediately transfigured his robes into an acceptable Muggle attire and apparated away. Cormac felt a little guilty leaving the blonde witch behind – what was her name again? Sharon? Susan? Samantha? – but Hermione's patronus sounded too desperate for him to ignore.

"Eh, more fishes in the sea," he flippantly commented. A weird emotion settled on her face, but before he could dwell on it, she looked away from him.

"Have you eaten?"

"Err… not really," Cormac said. "We were just about to order when your patronus arrived." Playfully scowling, he placed a hand on his stomach. "Blimey, Hermione, you owe me again."

She guiltily looked at him and sheepishly smiled. "I know, I know, I'm sorry," she said with a sigh. "I hardly ate, too." Her eyes lit up with an idea and latched onto his elbow. "Wait, I'm familiar with this street. I know a place where we can eat."

Hermione did not give him a chance to ask questions and instead started pulling him to Merlin-knows-where once again. His stomach was already protesting from hunger and when he was about to snap at her, they stopped in front of a small hotdog stand.

"We're eating here?" he asked, scrunching his nose in slight disgust. He might not be Sacred Twenty-Eight, but Cormac was raised as a bleeding Pureblood by his parents. He really did not have enough idea about Muggles and their quirks; Hermione was only able to introduce him to her world when they became colleagues four years ago.

"Yes, here," she said with an eye roll. "My parents used to bring me here and they have the best hotdogs, Cormac. You should trust me."

Sighing, knowing he did not really have any choice, he watched as Hermione fished out some Muggle money from her small purse and ordered two hotdogs in a bun. Hermione pulled him to a small nearby bench and happily settled down to start eating.

Cormac gave a dainty sniff, lifted an eyebrow when he thought the smell wasn't too bad, and took a big bite.

"Good?" Hermione asked, eyeing his expression.

He widely grinned. "Fucking hell, this is amazing," he gushed out, and proceeded to take another bite.

She prettily laughed at the delight on his face and ate her hotdog, too. They sat in silence for a while, save from the crinkling of paper.

Once he finished his snack, Cormac glanced at Hermione, who was busy staring at the park across from their bench with a smile on her face. He surveyed her dress discreetly, mouth going a little dry at how stunning she looked. It was painfully reminiscent of the dress she wore during that horrible Slug Club Christmas Party, though, and Cormac was forced to look away.

After the war, Cormac hadn't left his work as an auror in the ministry, thinking that he was actually great in this field and he could help a lot of people. Quidditch would always be his first love and he hadn't really stopped himself from considering Professional Quidditch, but for now, he was contented in becoming an auror. It didn't help that Hermione became a colleague of his in the same department.

They were constantly paired in missions. Apparently, their department head thought their dynamic was bloody magnificent and they were steadily becoming the best duo in the Auror department. Since they constantly worked together, friendship was inevitable. Cormac knew he had somehow tamed down, having grown out of his childish arrogance and love of talking about himself. He was still arrogant, all right – Hermione never failed to point it out to him one too many times – but he thought he was more tolerable now. He figured Hermione wouldn't willingly be his friend if he continued being that stupid, arrogant boy during their Hogwarts years.

"Ron proposed to Luna."

His eyes widened in surprise, snapping out of his thoughts. "W-what?" he sputtered out. "For real?"

"For real," Hermione said with a sad smile, turning to look at him. Sighing, she tucked a stray curl behind her ear. "He was beside himself with happiness. You should have seen him."

He gazed at her worriedly and frowned. "You okay, Granger?" he asked.

She snorted and gave him a withering glare. "Of course, McLaggen," she countered in reply. "He's my best friend. Of course I am happy for him. Besides, Luna's lovely."

"And super weird."

She laughed, completely concurring. "They love each other very much," she said, sighing once more. Her eyes clouded with painful memories, memories Cormac had witnessed for the past few years. "If things had worked well between us, I might be the one saying yes to his proposal today."

Cormac made a face at that possibility. "Yeah, well, he fucked it up, so you're here eating delicious Muggle street food with your insanely handsome friend," he pointed out.

"Hey, hey, tone down the arrogance," she shot back with a grin.

"Admit it, Hermione, you love that about me," he replied, bordering flirtatiousness.

She rolled her eyes and rubbed the bridge of her nose. "Why am I even spending this day with you, of all bloody days, when we see each other every day, anyway," she said with an exaggerated sigh. "The universe must be conspiring against me and making me miserable today."

"Or," Cormac said, "the universe must be conspiring with you and nudging you towards me instead."

Hermione threw a withering glare at his direction, but the redness of her cheeks was unmistakable. "I don't even know why I agreedto become friends with you," she said with a frown.

"Because you can't resist my charms?" he asked, complete with a dazzling grin.

She pinched his side, releasing a yelp from his mouth. "Charms my arse," she said, promptly standing up and giving him a good view of her said arse. "Anyway, I'm heading home and fulfilling my original plan."

Cormac also stood up from the bench and brushed the seat of his pants. "All right," he said, unable to conceal the disappointment he felt. He probably would be stumbling home today too, and drinking himself into oblivion, hoping against hope that she could finally move on from her first love and start noticing him instead.

"Maybe you can bring over some butterbeers?" she flippantly asked, looking over her shoulder. "I'll run along and buy the pizza I wanted."

He widely grinned. "Okay," he said, heart buzzing in happiness. "But I get to choose the movie."

"Fat chance, McLaggen," she drawled. "I already plan on starting with 'A Walk to Remember'."

"Eww, the leukemia girl?" he asked, making a face. "You've watched that loads of times already, Hermione."

"My flat, my rules," she said. "You can choose the next movie, though."

A maniacal grin appeared on his face, prompting Hermione to groan in regret.

"Please don't say 'Ghostbusters'," she pleaded.

In reply, Cormac happily sang the theme song of his favorite movie.

"I regret the day I introduced you to that movie."

"You said I can choose the next movie, Granger!" he gleefully exclaimed and jogged away to get the butterbeers before Hermione was forced to breach the International Statue of Secrecy and hex him into smithereens.

January 8, 2003

"Best fucking birthday ever."

Cormac plopped down on the seat opposite Hermione and scowled. The brunette reached forward and patted his hand for comfort. "It isn't so bad," she offered, complete with a pretty smile on her face. "Just… exhausting."

"Biggest understatement of the year, Granger," he snapped, gesturing widely at the stack of parchments on his desk. "Whoever told those rogue Death Eaters to wreak havoc in a Muggle village today, of all days, will be seriously mauled to death."

Her nose wrinkled at his morbid words. "At least you get to spend the rest of the night with me?" she offered as consolation.

His scowl darkened and started to massacre the paperwork needed to report the small terrorism. He wanted to spend the rest of his birthday with Hermione, all right, but he was hoping there would be less paper and work. Well, less clothes too, if Hermione didn't hex his forwardness.

"You really don't have to be here today, Hermione," he said after calming himself down. "This isn't your assignment after all."

"I know," she said, the corner of her lips quirking with a small smile. "But you should know by now that paperwork is irresistible to Hermione Granger." Cormac snorted but didn't protest when Hermione grabbed a few stack of parchments and helped him with his work.

They spent the remaining hours scribbling away, editing words, and reviewing notes. A quick glance at the magical clock in their office stated that it was nearing midnight and Cormac was hungry.

"I'll buy us some takeaways," Hermione immediately volunteered when Cormac announced his hunger. "You should finish the rest of your work so we can go home together now."

He lifted a lazy eyebrow and grinned. "You mean to say you want to go home with me tonight, Hermione?" he drawled, dangerously leaning closer at the brunette. His heart leapt to his throat when a dark blush appeared on her lovely cheeks. Lately, Cormac had been noticing this strange behavior from Hermione and was hoping to all the cosmic powers above that what he was suspecting was right. After all, he'd suffered with this for years and could already tell immediately if somebody was interested in him.

"Ugh, McLaggen, you know what I meant," she snapped a little too shrilly and shot up from her seat. Cormac heartily laughed, prompting Hermione to grumble darkly under her breath and disappear from their office.

It took her at least thirty minutes to return. Cormac's attention was solely on his parchment and didn't bother looking up. But then, after sniffing smoke, his eyebrow knitted together and he finally lifted his head. There near the door was Hermione, brilliantly smiling at him, holding a small chocolate cake with a lighted candle on top of it.

"Happy birthday, Cormac," she greeted.

He slowly stood up from his seat, a myriad of emotions in his heart. There stood the girl he'd love for half of his life, smiling radiantly at him, with a birthday cake at hand. Emotions clogged his throat as he gradually strode forward.

Her smile briefly fell at the look on his face. "Is something wrong?" she asked, her bottom lip now protruding into a pout.

"Err…" Cormac cleared his throat, cleared those emotions away, and shakily smiled. "Thank you, Hermione."

"Admit it, you were touched," she teased and chuckled. "I can see it on your face."

He finally reached her with only the cake standing in between them.

"Come on, make a wish first before you blow your candle," she said.

Emboldened by emotions, Cormac smirked and leant a little closer to Hermione. "I think you bloody well know what I've always wished for, Hermione Granger," he said, his voice low and husky. Another lovely blush painted her cheeks and she looked away. "Nope, nope, you can't look away this time, Hermione."

She bit her bottom lip before looking back into his green eyes.

"You bloody owe me, a lot, mind you," he reminded, his piercing gaze never leaving her form. "And I think today is the right time I get something in return."

Hermione blew a deep, shaky breath, and promptly extinguished the little flame. Her eyes widened in horror, driving Cormac into a laughing fit. "Last time I checked, the birthday celebrant is supposed to blow out the candle," he cheekily replied.

Her eyes dangerously flashed. "It wasn't my fault!" she squeaked in protest. "You… you… oh fuck it." She leaned over and finally placed a quick kiss on his lips. He was reduced to silence, too dumbfounded that Hermione had actually cracked. He didn't even notice that his birthday cake was ruined and his chest was the cause of its demise.

"Oh Merlin, I'm sorry!" she exclaimed, hastily setting the smashed cake aside and brandishing out her wand. Before she could charm him clean, Cormac captured her lips once more, birthday cake be damned.

He hungrily devoured her delicious lips, with Hermione occasionally emitting delightful sounds that made his abdomen twitch. He pressed her against the door and held her close, with one of his hand lost in the sea of her curly hair and the other wrapped tightly around her waist.

His heart hummed in happiness when she matched his fervor, her hands running all over his chest and grabbing hold of his glorious blond hair. It felt right... this was right. All his dreams paled in comparison with how wonderful this right, real thing was.

His lips left hers and slowly started trailing kisses down her jaw. Hermione angled her head to the side to give him more access, and he suckled and nipped and bit down her neck, groaning at the throaty moans she released.

"I've wanted you so much," he reverently whispered against her skin. "So much. You have… you have no idea."

"I…" Hermione gasped. "I…" And then, to his surprise, a snort escaped from her lips. Cormac pulled away, aghast at the sound, but Hermione was already madly chuckling.

"What the hell?" he exclaimed, heart thudding wildly inside his ribcage, thinking everything was just a joke and stupid, stupid Cormac McLaggen once again fell victim to it.

Hermione placed a hand – a sticky hand – against his cheek and grinned. "You're covered in chocolate frosting," she cajoled. "I mean, it's everywhere!"

He looked down at himself and true to her words, there were chocolate streaks on his face, neck, and any skin that Hermione had touched.

A mischievous glint flashed in her eyes as she leaned forward and slowly licked off the chocolate smudge on his collarbone. Cormac swore under his breath, intoxicatingly aroused with the feel of her tongue against his skin.

"Perhaps," she whispered hotly against his skin, "we're going home together after all."

"Mother of Merlin," he gasped, his eyes fluttering close. "Fuck work. We're going home now."

Hermione laughed heartily and pulled away to look at him. "I kind of forgot to tell you that Davies agreed to get your reports tomorrow night instead, seeing that it's your birthday and all," she said with a sheepish smile. At the horrified look on his face, she hastily added, "I just wanted some time to muster up enough courage to tell you that I bloody like you. Desperately like you, Cormac. And I might have chickened out a lot of times and didn't realize it's nearing midnight so…"

Cormac groaned and leant his forehead against hers. "If you've pulled out your bloody Gryffindor bravery earlier, we could have more time to shag senselessly today!" he exclaimed.

"Cormac!" she gasped, scandalized.

He rolled his eyes. "Judging from the way you sounded a while ago, I figured that's where we're going to end up anyway," he reasoned out.

She smacked his arm and glared. "Sodding uncouth, McLaggen."

Cormac grinned and caught her hand. He pressed it against his chest and cheekily smirked, "But you desperately like me, right?"

Her cheeks colored once more and he fondly snickered. "I desperately like you too," he said, tucking a stray curl behind her ear. "Actually, fuck it. I've been in love with you for years and the universe thought it would be hilarious to let me save your pretty arse one too many times when I've been trying so bloody hard to get over you."

Her eyes softened. "And I've treated you atrociously, too," she said, sighing. "Ooh, especially that stupid Slug Club's Christmas Party." Guilt shone through her eyes and she reached out to touch his cheek. "I have never felt so disgusted with myself for doing something like that. I think I had never really forgiven myself and inevitably thought constantly about you."

Cormac grinned. "It doesn't matter anymore, because you're going to make it up to me by shagging me senseless tonight."

Hermione rolled her eyes, but the corners of her mouth were twitching into a smile. "You wish," she said, gathering the takeaways into her arms. "I'm going back to my flat, Cormac, and of course you're welcome to join me. I'm starving."

She brandished out her wand and was about to disapparate. "Oh, and can you bring the cake over?" she politely asked.

Cormac frowned at the sad state of his birthday cake. "It's ruined," he pointed out.

Her eyes glinted roguishly. "Yes well, we just have to be creative tonight, Cormac," she cooed. "Throwing it away will be a terrible waste." And then, she proceeded to disappear.

Heat flooded his cheeks and his eyes almost bulged out. The birthday boy hastily grabbed hold of his chocolate cake and promptly disapparated with a loud crack.

FIN

A/N: YAY CORMAC FREAKING MCLAGGEN! Please send me you reviews. I don't really mind if it's got nothing to do about my fic but more of about how sinfully beautiful Freddie Stroma is hahaha.

Do you know any wonderful Cormac/Hermione stories out there? The amount in FFnet is super abysmal so I'm open to other sites.

That's it for now! Again, please don't forget to review. I might write more Cormac/Hermione in the future, but for now, I'm focusing my energy on Dramione - this is, after all, my legit OTP.

With love,
WickedlyAwesomeMe