I don't own Harry Potter or anything associated with JKR's universe.
Early Fall, 1996 (Also known as 6th year)
Hermione's tired eyes darted across the first of seven pages of her potions essay for Professor Slughorn. She studiously ignored the hushed laughter and conversation in the library. It wasn't any of her business if Lavender had a crush on Ron, or if Cho Chang had a new boyfriend. No, Hermione's business was, as always, much more practical than that insipid gossip. At that very moment, the most important thing was to rewrite her essay until it was perfect. Until Slughorn had no choice but to admit that Hermione was the top student in 6th year potions, better than Harry and his new potions book. She huffed in disgust. Just thinking about that beat-up, old textbook made her temper flare.
She slid closer to the window, burying herself even deeper in her little nook knowing that no one would be able to see her unless they came looking for her. The table in the far corner, where she'd spread her books, was shielded by the shelves just enough to muffle the noise and hide her from everyone else's view. It was also known throughout Hogwarts as "Hermione's table", so everyone else tended to steer clear of it, whether she was there or not- much to her delight. Although, if she was going to be honest, she was there most often than not.
She began revising her essay, determined to hand in a flawless essay, despite her admittance into Slughorn's ridiculous 'Slug Club'. She rolled her eyes at the thought of the new Professor's blatant favoritism and bit into an apple. As she dipped her quill into a pot of bright red ink, her favorite color for revision, a heavy body dropped into a chair across from her, sending the pages of her open books fluttering. Without looking up, she dropped the bitten apple onto her potions book, using it as a makeshift paperweight.
"I'm shocked, Granger!" An amused voice mocked her. "Using apples to hold your books open- you're even worse than me."
"McLaggan," she looked up and eyed him suspiciously him for a moment, then went back to editing her essay.
Her stomach flipped as she felt his eyes on her. She knew he was smiling, and somehow, she also knew if she looked up, it wouldn't be a smirk or a tight lipped smile, it would be an relaxed, charming grin.
Godric, he looked good.
She stiffened at the sudden and unwelcome thought. She knew nothing about him. Other than that he was quite a good keeper. Likely better than Ron. The traitorous part of her mind spoke up again. He was known to be rather skilled at transfiguration. And that he was a good looking lad, from a strictly objective point of view, of course. Not that Hermione would ever chase after a pretty face. She was far too reasonable for that.
Shoving aside her train of thought, she told herself she was being illogical- only because she was nervous and not because she found him attractive.
Because she didn't.
At all.
Nothing about those bright blue eyes or the easy smile was attractive.
Nothing at all.
The only reason she had ever given him a second (occasionally a third and sometimes a fourth) thought was because of the guilt which refused to go away, even now- a month after Quidditch trials.
She continued ignoring him in the hope that he'd leave her alone but he patiently sat across from her, watching as she scribbled increasingly disorganized edits in the margins. She was used to people watching her work, after all Harry and Ron watched her all the time (usually over her shoulder to copy her work, but that was besides the point). The longer he sat there, the harder she pressed her quill into the parchment until each furious slash left a puddle of red ink behind. Before she lost all control and snapped the tip of her quill, she dropped it and busied herself straightening the stack of parchment.
"Is there something you needed from me?" She asked as she slid her essay between the pages of her potions textbook, taking care to make the action look deliberate and calm.
Cormac watched her hands as she adjusted the books and writing supplies between them. He smirked as she continued fixing her supplies, clearly unable to control herself.
"McLaggan?" she snapped, clearing her throat impatiently as she brought her hands to her lap, clenching them to prevent herself from compulsively reorganizing everything.
His eyes slid away from her hands and slowly came up to meet her eyes.
"Me? Oh, I don't need anything, Miss Granger." He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back, tilting his chair onto the back two legs. "Nothing at all."
Hermione's mind wandered for a second when she saw how the sleeves of his uniform shirt stretched over his biceps. She shook her head clear of the distracting thought and glared at him.
"Well then. As you can see, I'm rather occupied so it would be best if you left." She drummed her fingers on the table as she watched a slow smile come over his face.
"Uh-uh. I'm afraid I can't do that just yet, love."
She looked at him blankly, baffled that he'd called her 'love', then suddenly shot to het feet.
"Fine. You stay, I'll go." She screwed the cap onto the ink bottle and tossed it, along with a handful of quills, into her bag.
"Right- the way I see it, Granger," Cormac dropped his chair back to the ground and leaned forward, propping his elbows on the table as if he were about to tell her a secret. That got her attention. "You'll want to sit down and listen. Especially since you're the reason I didn't make the team-"
Hermione's head shot up to meet his gaze, "I'm afraid I don't follow, McLaggan." Her tone was cool and confident, but he only needed one look at her face to know she understood exactly what he meant. His eyes glittered with mirth as a telling flush crept up her chest.
"Come on, love." He chuckled as he sat back and crossed his legs- ankle resting on his opposite knee. "Now I may not be as clever as you, but we both know I'm not as thick as Weasley."
"He's not thick!" Her voice went shrill as she instinctually defended Ron.
Cormac nodded at her chair and began speaking again when she stiffly lowered herself into the seat.
"If Weasley hasn't figured out that he's only on the team because you confounded me- phenomenal spell work, by the way- then he's even more of an idiot than I first thought."
"I don't know what you're talking about" Hermione shot back, "And he's not an idiot!"
"Oh, you know exactly what I'm on about," he grinned, looking disgustingly pleased with himself, "But I'd wager your little boyfriend doesn't know."
The mocking way he called Ron her 'little boyfriend' set Hermione off. Before she could stop herself, her fist closed around the half-eaten apple and she launched it at his head.
To her disappointment, he didn't even flinch. He snatched it out of the air when it was an inch from his forehead and laughed loudly.
"Shhh! This is a library!" Heroine shushed him before the other students noticed them and began wondering why they were sitting together.
"Bet Weasley wouldn't have caught that," He said, taking a bite out of her apple.
Hermione took a deep breath and composed herself.
"McLaggen, I'-" Hermione began to apologize, first for confounding him, then for throwing the apple at his head. Or maybe it would be best to start with her more recent offense rather than the more serious one.
"Chin up, Granger!" He interrupted her as he stood up and pushed in his chair, "I won't tell anyone."
He walked past her, tossing the apple in the air and catching it again. She stared at his empty chair for a moment, then dropped her head into her hands, resting her elbows on the table.
She moaned softly and shook her head, still horrified by her impulsive decision to meddle with the Quidditch trials.
"Oh God, What the hell ha-"
"In fact, Granger," Cormac spoke from behind her. She froze and assessed the situation- he stood hunched over, bracing his palms against the table on either side of her. She noted that one hand still held her apple. His body heat warmed her back, making her gasp sharply and stiffen at his nearness.
"I think I rather like the idea of you owing me." This time, he spoke directly into her ear. His breath ruffled her hair, sending an odd tingle down her spine.
Before she could come up with a retort to let him know why, exactly, she would not be owning him anything at all, he laughed softly and pushed away from the table- leaving her with a head full of comebacks and a strange longing to hear his voice again.
Mid-Fall, 1996 (Still known as 6th year)
Hermione heard the footsteps coming down the stairs before she saw the shadow.
She'd left the party in the common room shortly after Lavender wrapped her limbs around Ron and performed an impressive disappearing act in which her tongue disappeared down his throat. Hermione had been mildly concerned for a moment, given that Lavender, who had 4 limbs like any normal witch, seemed to have Ron in a Devil's Snare-like grasp. But Ron looked all to willing to let Lavender ensnare him so Hermione left, like any normal witch with a broken heart.
Sighing, she turned, expecting one of the sixth year boys. Harry, was the most likely candidate, unless he'd been distracted by Ginny, or Malfoy, or that horrible new potions book of his. Perhaps it was Neville, who'd always been able to read Hermione like a book. To her surprise, it was neither of them.
"What are you doing here?" She asked, defeat evident in her voice as she turned away from him. She had no interest in being baited by his asinine comments.
Cormac lowered himself to take a seat two steps above her. He leaned against the curved banister and stretched his long legs as he watched the swarm of birds above Hermione's head. The tiny yellow hummingbirds swirled high up, until they were barely visible, then dove back down in an magnificent acrobatic display.
"Hummingbirds?" Cormac asked as he pulled out his wand, still looking up at the birds- pretending not to notice as she quickly wiped her tears with the back of her hand.
Hermione nodded once, still turned away from him.
Cormac whispered a spell under his breath and waited for the charm to work.
Beginning at the base of the staircase, right next to Hermione's feet- silvery, glass-like vines began to wind around the vertical posts holding up the bannister. At her surprised gasp, Cormac slid down one step and moved closer, watching her reactions as she watched the glimmering vines climb the stone. She reached out to touch one leaf and laughed quietly when she realized it felt like regular leaves even though it looked like crystal.
"It's a charm my mother taught me," Cormac explained. "She's great with plants."
"It looks very… complex," Hermione replied hesitantly, studying the meandering vines.
"Ah, come on, love." Cormac laughed and nudged her shoulder with his leg as leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees. "I've told you, I'm not as dense as I look."
"I don't think you look de-" Hermione began, turning to face him. She cut herself off when she saw the teasing expression on his face. Rolling her eyes, she corrected herself, "I never said you look dense- I may have thought it," she shrugged at his raised eyebrows, "many times- but I've never said it."
"Semantics," Cormac brushed her comment off with a smirk and nodded at the crystal vines. They'd stopped growing and now gently swayed in the cold breeze; leaves clinking against vines, sounding like a far-off chandelier.
Hermione turned to watch the plant as Cormac brought his wand up and gently tapped one bud. Before her eyes, it burst into bloom, dozens of flowers opened simultaneously, each a shimmering rainbow of colors.
Hermione's birds fluttered toward the flowers in a graceful arc, flitting from flower to flower. The only indication of the birds were tiny blurs of bright yellow among the bright jewel colored crystals.
She turned to ask Cormac about the charm, as always, desperate to learn anything she could from anyone she met. Before she could speak, Cormac narrowed his eyes and tilted his head away from her, distracted by loud peals of laughter echoing down the hallway.
To Hermione's horror, Ron stumbled around the corner, pulling a giggling Lavender by the hand. He swung her around, about to kiss her, and froze when he saw Hermione's wide eyes over Lavender's shoulder. For a few long seconds, they just stared at one another while Cormac watched on and lavender twined her arms around Ron's suddenly stiff shoulders.
Lavender turned in his arms and gasped, clearly tipsy- if the half empty bottle in Ron's hand was anything to go by.
"Oops. I think this room's taken." Her whisper was laughably loud- or it would have been laughable if the three other people weren't so tense.
She turned, still oblivious to the tension and tugged at Ron's arm, whispering for him to follow as she turned the corner.
Ron took a short step back, about to go with her but paused as his eyes darted between Hermione and Cormac, narrowing in suspicion.
"What's with the birds?" He asked, trying to buy time as his brain worked quickly to assess the the situation. "And what are you doing with him?" Ron's voice turned hostile as he jerked his head in Cormac's direction, addressing Hermione as if she owed him an explanation.
Ignoring both his questions, Hermione rose to her feet, wand clenched in her fist and pointed at him, "Oppugno!"
Instantly the birds abandoned their flowers and raced toward Ron in streaks of yellow, like angry little bullets. Cormac would have burst into laughter at Ron's panicked expression when he sat the oncoming beaks and feathers, but he held it in and watched Hermione handle the situation. Ron turned on his heel and fled before the birds reached him. If his echoing footsteps were anything to go by, Ron had sprinted down the corridor, catching up to Lavender- then dragging her behind him.
The birds however, did not follow.
As they hit the wall, each bird exploded in a tiny clouds of bright feathers with a faint squeak. Hermione collapsed to the staircase and buried her face in her arms, sobbing. Cormac hesitated for a moment, then tentatively wrapped his arm around her, pulling her close. She stiffened as his arm came around her, then fell against his shoulder, her tears soaking his shirt. She felt his lips brush the crown of her head while his fingers combed through her curls.
As they sat, wrapped in each other's arms, the last yellow feathers drifted to the floor, joining the heap on the floor.
Please let me know what you all think!
I. I'm aware that this is a pretty rare (maybe unpopular) pairing, but I love arrogant boys so why not!
II. I'll most likely have 4 chapters in this story, spanning 6th year and 7th, up to Voldemort's death.
III. Depending on how it's received, I might write a second story about their post Hogwarts life :)
IV. As always, please review, leave me your thoughts, send me your ideas, or just message me to say hi!
-M-