Note: Post War!AU


The large burgundy wood-panelled room was covered in artwork and shelves lined up with books. The window on the farthest wall displayed the majestic sight of grassy fields and flowers. A perfect set up for therapy.

Cormac laid on the blue velvet chaise lounge, his arm slung casually on the side of it. His head was tilted as he looked at the woman sitting across from him. He was bold, allowing his eyes to trail up her smooth legs and carelessly linger where her skirt ended near her knee.

"How has your week been so far, Cormac?" she asked him.

His eyes met hers, and they stayed that way as he gave a half-shrug and grin.

"A little this, a little that, Dr. Malone," Cormac said, his chest puffing out a bit. "Another praise from my Quidditch coach. You know I'm the one that brought my team to victory each and every time this season. The Tornados would be nothing without yours truly," he boasted, pinching at his shirt for emphasis.

Dr. Malone hummed and wrote something down on the parchment in her lap. "I see," she said. "Anything outside of work?"

He snorted. "No. My family is important, you know. They're deeply connected in the Ministry, so they don't have time for silly get-togethers or the like." Cormac waved his hand dismissively before he leaned forward.

"Though I would love seeing you for another kind of session 'outside of work'," he told her, licking his lips suggestively and scanning her over once more. "I loosen that tight bun of yours while you let that dark hair flow freely, yeah?"

Dr. Malone cleared her throat. "We're not going to do that, Cormac," she said. "That's not what we're here for."

Cormac looked down briefly with a scoff and grin, afterwards, he lifted his head back up to meet Dr. Malone.

"Rayna, darling," Cormac started, "you're sitting in front of the best Quidditch player you'll ever hear about. I can get whoever I want, when I want, all with the snap of my fingers." He snapped his fingers and chuckled. "I'd give you a reason to need a therapist because your obsession with me will be off the bloody charts. All you have to do is say the word."

She shook her head. "Remember, Cormac, you're to call me by Dr. Malone only, she said. "Also, I would like to point out that you snapped your fingers, and nothing happened. If you had not gotten into the altercation after the Tornados' match against the Wasps, no one would understand that you need help."

His playful smirk shifted into a sneer. "That arse deserved what he got for trying to ruin my reputation as the best Keeper. He tried to cheat, not me. I don't need to cheat to know my physical capabilities, and anyone that says otherwise can bugger off into Hell with him."

Cormac moved on the chaise lounge, closing his eyes and taking deep breaths. Dr. Malone wrote something else down on her parchment.

"Now, must we continue talking about some mental issue that I know I don't have?" he asked. "I'm pretty damn great, and I want the world to know it. There's nothing wrong with that."

"You don't see anything wrong with what you've done and what you're doing to the people around you?" Dr. Malone asked.

Cormac kept steady eye contact with the doctor. "Absolutely nothing," he said. "As far as I'm concerned, everyone else that has a problem with me and my success is the real wrong one."

Dr. Malone glanced over at the clock resting on her desk. "We have another half hour, Cormac. Is there anything else you'd like to talk about?"

"As a matter of fact," he said as a grin returned to his face, "I'd like to talk about how I want you out of those clothes and leaning on that desk for me."

She pointed her quill at him. "We're not talking about that. I mean any feelings that you've had recently or any striking thoughts about life as of late."

Cormac shook his head. "I don't do feelings unless someone takes a shot at me because of their own insecurities and jealousy. And life is just as peachy and perfect as I want it. Well, it would be once I bed you, of course."

Dr. Malone shook her head. "Until there's any progress, you'll remain my client. I have to report all notes to your coach as well."

He scoffed and ran a hand through his hair. "Tell him. He knows what he'll lose if he drops me from the team, and I get to see your pretty face every Wednesday. Sounds like a win, win to me."

Cormac meant it too. Every Wednesday remained the same. Dr. Malone would ask him a question, and he would divert the conversation by praising himself and trying to seduce her. He could and would do it for as long as he wanted; it was his prerogative.


A/N: Written for The Houses Competition

(THC) House: Gryffindor; Year/Position: Year 4; Category: Additional; Prompt: [emotion] Pride (in another/in self) - narcissistic personality disorder

Word Count: 834