Author's Note: This was such a doozie. It'll get easier when I get to use my own imagination for a story line, but I'm trying to make a point here. :) I hope you enjoy a bit of a longer chapter (comparatively) after such a long wait. Merry Christmas!

He hadn't made the quidditch team. He had a feeling that he wouldn't have, anyway. Cormac knew Potter and Weasley held a certain disdain for him. It didn't hurt him as much as he expected, though. He now had... other things on his mind.

Perhaps, however, not having a position on the team wasn't such a bad thing. He was now able to focus on more things than if he had had to worry about quidditch. He seemed to be doing really well in his classes, maybe for the first time. He understood things, and this understanding came easier and faster. He had discovered his talent and love for potions. Cormac's affinity for the subject had not gone unnoticed, however. Professor Slughorn saw Cormac as a bright young man with a future in potions ahead of him.

It was no question then, that Cormac was a member of the Slug Club. He had been asked to stay after class with Professor Slughorn, and he was invited to the upcoming Dinner Party for those members, which, of course, included Hermione Granger. Cormac accepted on the spot and had inticipated the night ever since.

While all the consequences of his better grades were great, the main reason that Cormac prayed would to come to pass was the admiration of him by Hermione herself. He hoped that she would be impressed by his long tales of his own greatness and then his improving grades.

All this was running though his head as he got ready for the Dinner Party. He decided to wear a nice sweater over his white button down, some khaki slacks and leather loafers. He fixed his hair so that it was neat (as neat as his unruly curls could be). Giving himself a mental pep-talk, he looked in the mirror one last time before heading out the door down into the depths of the school.

Hermione, of course, was promptly on time. She sat around the table along with several others whom she knew the name of but knew nothing about. Dinner had not yet been placed on the table. Even if it was, it would be considered rude for eating before all of the guests had arrived. Every once in a while, Slughorn would try to start up conversation again, only making the static silence more awkward and unbearable. Finally, the door creaked open, announcing the arrival of another guest.

Hermione wished it hadn't. As soon as she saw the mop of curly hair coming around the corner, she groaned to herself. Why did it have to be Cormac? Why? At least there were place markers to protect her.

"Ah, Mr. McLaggen. Glad to see you. Take a seat, my dear boy. I've put you next to me. Hope you won't mind," Slughorn said, standing up and walking over to greet him.

"Not at all, Professor." McLaggen looked around the room. "What a lovely arrangement," he drawled, staring straight at Hermione, who dropped her head down to look into her lap.

"Thank you, lad. But I wasn't alone in setting it up. You see..." The old Professor talked endlessly on and on, even though no one appeared to be listening. It seemed Cormac didn't even pretend to be. His gaze fell directly on Hermione and he did not remove it.

Hermione was doing everything in her power to distract herself from her obvious admirer. She played with her hair, ran her finger around the edge of the glass, fixed her skirts, twiddled her thumbs, and picked at her nail polish until another creak emerged from the door.

Craning her neck, she saw the familiar pale skin and black hair."Thank heavens," she sighed to herself, hoping that it was unheard or unintelligible.

Harry rounded the corner and took his place next to her. "Have I missed anything?" whispered Harry sarcastically, noticing the still air and the awkwardness of the sporadic, but still existing, conversation.

Hermione laughed, "No, not so far. But you don't want to miss the exciting conclusion of this conversation. Slughorn will tell us how he decorated the table! I know you're interested, Harry."

"I can't wait."

By talking with Harry, Hermione was forced to draw her face upward, meaning that Cormac's glaring face was now in her peripherals. Feeling more confident, she turned her face towards him. Maybe it would startle him if she was to be bold and stare at him back.

No such luck. Cormac's already wide smirk grew to cover his whole face.

Well, having to stare at him showed Hermione that Cormac certainly didn't have bad features. No, his features were rather handsome. Curly hair was hard to manage, Hermione knew from experience, but Cormac looked like he could handle it well. His face had a good frame. And his skin looked... soft. Hermione would hardly even admit it in her thoughts... Cormac was cute.

And he had been doing better with his grades, which made him instantaneously more attractive. Maybe it wouldn't hurt to give him a shot...

What was she thinking? There he sat directly across the table, shooting her his most seductive sly look—it was disgusting, really. How could she let herself get carried away like that? Hermione shook her head, now thankful that the first course had suddenly appeared on the table.

Cormac thought that he was doing well. He had run out of real conversation material with Slughorn a while ago during the soup course, and now had made up some lie about hunting with the Minister of Magic while his mouth babbled on automatic. No bother. It made him look all the better in front of Granger.

After a question to a plump boy (who was disgustingly shoving bit after bit of dessert into his mouth), and the boy's muffled reply, Slughorn, to Cormac's delight, asked Hermione a question, making her speak for the first time that night.

Cormac wasn't fully listening. He was distracted by the way Hermione's face flashed red and she laced her fingers together, stumbling and stuttering over her words, obviously trying to convey something difficult without sounding odd. It wasn't working.

On the inside, Cormac was laughing his head off. She was precious when she was flustered. It was funny to see the one thing that made him the most nervous more apprehensive than he was... although it did make him a bit uncomfortable. She shouldn't have been put on the spot like that.

The door slowly opened, revealing the red-blotched face of the youngest Weasley, who slowly made her way to her seat, looking a bit ashamed, although it probably wasn't because she had missed dinner.

Hermione shifted to whisper something to Harry, and Cormac's head whipped around to see what had caused her motion. A bubble of jealousy was in the pit of his stomach. Why did she whisper to him?

It didn't look like Harry was interested in Hermione, however. He stood up when Ginny had reached her seat, then looking around sheepishly when no other male had stood. Hermione smiled gently up at him. It suddenly clicked in Cormac's head, (or so he thought). That was the kind of guy Hermione wanted. A gentleman. She was the one who had told him to stand. A woman who knew what she wanted... it made Hermione all the more attractive. Cormac, as soon as Hermione had looked back at him, licked his fingers clean while gazing at Hermione fliratiously. She snapped her head to the side, hiding her mouth so that Cormac couldn't tell if it was in smile or a frown.

Soon, after everyone was finished eating, Slughorn tried to make an excuse for being "very tired" and to "excuse an old coot for his necessary early repose". He, not so politely, ushered everyone out of the door, growling out "goodbye". If Cormac hadn't been so deep in thought, he would have been jealous about the way Hermione glanced back to make sure Harry knew what he was doing by remaining in Slug's room. But he was too busy thinking back to something that Hermione had said- what were stitches and why did Hermione's father need them?