"This is the last bloody time," Hermione hissed, huffing her hair out of face as she scoured the floor.
"You say that every time," He grinned lazily, utterly relaxed against his mountain of pillows, the sheet barely pulled up far enough to cover his hips.
"And this time I mean it." She pushed herself up to her knees so she could glare at him. "Where are my pants?"
"Oh you mean these?" Cormac raised an eyebrow at her, the scrap of lace dangling from his fingers, his hand pulling out of reach when she tried to grab for them. "Oi, now that's not very polite, Granger."
"Give me my bloody pants, McLaggen," Hermione gritted out, pulling her short dress down. It seemed like such a good wardrobe choice a few hours ago but now she was severely rethinking her decisions. Both in dress and bed partner.
"Come back to bed, you don't always need to run off so quickly," Cormac pouted at her. She'd almost believe his pride might've been hurt if he wasn't trying to hold in laughter and his eyes weren't fixed on her cleavage. "You make me feel cheap."
Hermione rolled her eyes at him. "Fine, keep the pants, goodbye Cormac."
"I'll see you soon, love!"
"No you bloody won't!"
"I'm going to throw myself off a bridge. I'll go back to Hogwarts and chuck myself off the Astronomy Tower, maybe drown myself in the Black Lake. Yeah that sounds good, I'll freeze before I ever feel the squid strangle me—"
"Ron, what on Earth are you on about?" Hermione sighed, finally giving up on reading the file that she'd been trying to work through since her friend had bulldozed into her office twenty minutes ago.
"Have you not been listening to a word I've said?"
"Not really, no."
"Bloody McLaggen!" Hermione froze, he couldn't know. There was absolutely no way Ron could possibly know that she and Cormac had— "The bloody Department of Magical Games and Sports! They've brought in that twat McLaggen to help out with this year's World Cup. Well, actually, they've brought in quite a few Quidditch players from different teams to help out, but who gives a rats arse about McLaggen's opinion? Don't even think the prat has any thoughts besides what hair charms he's going to use."
Hermione had to stop herself from informing Ron that Cormac actually had lots of thoughts going on in that ridiculous head of his—that he actually had quite a good brain for business and was already preparing to take over his Uncle's whisky company when he retired from Quidditch since he didn't have much interest, or patience, for politics. She wanted to tell Ron to grow up and get over this ridiculous feud the pair had; which had only been exacerbated when Ron found out that his girlfriend Hannah Abbott had a fling with the prat before she and Ron made things official.
Not that she cared, no she didn't care at all about Cormac or Ron.
"Why do you care so much? You're an Auror, it's not like you'll have to spend any time together." Hermione tried to wave him off and get back to her work. She should've known by now that Ron couldn't let anything go.
"That's not the point. He'll be swanning around the place like he's Merlin himself, you know what he's like!"
"Oh Granger knows exactly what I'm like, don't you, love?"
Hermione was going to kill him. Maybe she'd join Ron on his trip to Hogwarts and just kill herself. What was he playing at? He wasn't meant to be here. And certainly not looking like that. Cormac McLaggen always looked bloody good but something about him in a tailored suit was just…lovely. She'd seen him naked enough times that she almost liked to pretend that she was immune to his charms. That she didn't simper and melt when his hazel eyes looked up at her beneath obscenely long lashes when he settled between her thighs. That she wasn't keenly aware of how broad his shoulders were or the way she knew exactly how he moved under her hands as she dug her nails in when he moved his hips just—
"What are you doing here?" Ron spat.
"Ministry business, isn't that what you all do here?" Cormac asked, inviting himself in and looking around Hermione's office. "Well this isn't depressing at all."
"My office is not depressing, it's fine." She tried to defend herself, suddenly remembering the dead plant that was sitting in the corner by her over-stuffed bookshelves.
"It's dark."
"It's cosy."
"It has no windows."
"I don't need any distractions!"
"I don't think a bit of sunlight or fresh air counts as a distraction—"
"Oi!" Ron stared at the pair incredulously like he'd never seen them before.
"Sorry Ron, what were you saying?" Hermione asked, trying to ignore the way Cormac seemed to take over the small space in her office. He'd probably break the one sad chair she had on the other side of her desk if he chose to sit in it. It was the suit, she decided. It made him look more imposing. The utter prat.
"I was asking him what he's doing here in your office?" Ron glared at Cormac who was now perusing her bookcase as if he might actually be interested in Marianne Flagworst's findings on Flobberworm Migrations Through Europe.
"Didn't you hear? We were making good progress with the game prep when Burns decided to finally let slip that there was some sort of creature infestation at the pitch so naturally I suggested Miss Creature Rights herself to help out."
"What creatures?" Hermione asked.
"Oh that's just great," Ron muttered sarcastically.
"Think it's Doxies," Cormac squinted at the ceiling.
"Doxies are hardly that big of a problem, you can take Jill and Colin out there to help you, they're new, they'd love the experience." Hermione waved him off and turned back to her paperwork.
"You're just going to be hanging around here like a bad smell…" Ron continued.
"Actually it might've been a Chimera," he tried again thoughtfully.
"A Chimera?" She raised an eyebrow.
"Or was it a Fwooper?"
"They're native to Africa, it wouldn't survive a week in Norfolk this time of year." Hermione waved him off.
"Bloody idiot," Ron muttered, like he knew anything about the subject.
"They definitely mentioned Grindylows. Something about minor flooding or the like, either way you've been requested, come along."
"What, now?" Hermione cried looking at the work littering her desk. He couldn't just come in here and demand that she abandon everything to run after his bloody World Cup.
Cormac let out a dramatic sigh. "Fine, finish up your little tea party with Weasley then meet me upstairs, Burns is right antsy to get on with this…maybe it was a dragon, that would explain why he mentioned fire hazards."
Ron met Hermione's frustrated gaze as Cormac left the room. She hoped he didn't catch her staring at McLaggen's arse.
"That guy's a prat."
"Yes, he is." Hermione agreed. She'd been agreeing with Ron on that since their fifth year and then even when she didn't entirely believe it, agreed in solidarity due to Cormac having a single date two years ago with Ron's current girlfriend.
Cormac McLaggen was an utter prat. One she'd been shagging for two years and telling herself she'd never do it ever again. Maybe the Chimera would just eat her and then she wouldn't have to keep lying to herself.
Maybe she was the prat?
"You're kidding." Hermione stared out at the Quidditch pitch in horrified awe. There was no way the Ministry was possibly thinking of holding the Cup here.
There was what could only be described as a lake in the middle of the pitch—Cormac was delightfully under exaggerating when he mentioned 'minor flooding'—Doxy infestations in four of the stands, all of which were barely even holding up under their own weight. Oh, and there actually was a dragon. A baby Welsh Green that was hiding on the other side of the stadium that Charlie Weasley was very excited to come and collect in the next few hours.
"I wish I was," Cormac grimaced at the grounds, the toe of his boot pressing against one of the stands making the wood groan ominously.
"Why on Earth would they want to have the World Cup here?"
"I'm not sure, there was something mentioned about some player's grandfather who died a couple hundred years ago last playing here or maybe it was an old Minister who drank tea here with the Queen, something like that."
"You really have to start paying attention when people talk to you, it's incredibly rude," she sighed at him as she started to walk closer to the minor flooding with her wand out to investigate what was lurking beneath.
"I listen when you talk."
"That is a lie! I tried to tell you about the whole debacle with the Centaurs a few weeks ago and you fell asleep!"
"Well you can't blame me for that. You had just shagged me six ways from Sunday, love," Cormac smirked, making her blush; however, he continued before she could tell him to stop. "And I listen very closely to every word out of your pretty little mouth. Like last night when you begged me to bend you over and fill you with my co—"
"Mila!"
Hermione's face still burned with embarrassed outrage as she was swept up into a tight hug. Her feet left the ground as Viktor spun her around until she was giggling like she was a child again, his own laughter rumbling in his chest.
"Viktor, put me down!" Hermione swatted at his arms that were banded around her waist until he dropped her. "What are you doing here?"
It had been months since she'd seen him. Last she heard he was playing for some team in Russia and was close to marrying a beautiful blonde he'd met over there. "What, I can't stop by and see my favourite witch in England once in a while?"
She wished she could help the way her cheeks warmed at his harmless flirting, but he'd always managed to have that effect on her since she was fifteen. It wasn't entirely unlike the effect Cormac had on her, who was looking more irritated by the second compared to his easy-going manner a moment ago.
"Krum is here to help with the preparations with the games, didn't Weasley tell you?"
"No, he didn't," Hermione frowned at the glare Cormac was sending Viktor's way who thankfully seemed oblivious to his attitude. "It's a shame you came all this way though, there isn't much to be done here the next couple of days til we get everything cleared away."
"Ah yes, I'm mostly at the Ministry, they wanted someone to help coordinate and liaise with the teams from Europe so I won't be in your way here. I just wanted to come and see you before Alina arrives tonight." Viktor smiled at her. It was nice seeing how much happier he seemed nowadays.
"You're never in the way," She rolled her eyes at him and she swore she heard Cormac scoff, "I'll owl you, we could go to dinner whilst you're here, you can finally introduce me to Alina."
Hermione didn't think it was physically possible for the stoic Wizard's smile to grow any bigger but somehow it did. Another rib-crushing hug, a promise to write to her that evening followed by an awkward handshake with Cormac and Viktor was gone. She was still smiling like an idiot when she turned to face her supposed colleague for the day only to find Cormac looking like he'd swallowed a lemon.
"What's up with you?"
"Me? Nothing, absolutely nothing, Granger," he sighed. "There's Burns over there. I best go see what he wants us to do."
Hermione had no idea what crawled up McLaggen's arse but she was glad to get some peace from the irritating sod whilst she set to work around the stadium. She'd met up with Charlie to try and organise getting the baby dragon safely tucked away and ready to be transported back to the reserve in Wales he'd escaped from, and found a Boggart in the sheds at the edge of the pitch that she managed to take care of without too much of a fuss. Cormac and other players had been flitting around with different Ministry officials helping to point out what they would need to include or rectify for the games to begin. She'd spied him hunched over a table covered with parchment, seeming to be in a very serious debate as to where the changing sheds should go, and later floating above the stadium on a broom with Burns at his side as they inspected the extent of the damage to the grounds.
She was once again standing at the edge of the lake in the middle of the pitch when she saw him floating miles above her on his broom. It felt rather unfair how impressive he looked flying above the clouds. Hermione wasn't the biggest fan of Quidditch, but she'd be lying if she said that she didn't appreciate the effort and skill it took to be successful at the game. She'd certainly reaped enough of the benefits in the way she selfishly got to enjoy the muscles gained from his craft. Not that she'd be enjoying his stupid broom thighs ever again. Absolutely not. It had to be the last time. She'd been telling herself it'd be the last time for the last month. Things were getting complicated, she was feeling complicated.
Their barely-friends-with-benefits arrangement had gone on for far too long already. Just over two years of running into each other and seeking one another out to shag mindlessly was fun. It was what Hermione wanted, what she convinced herself she wanted, but surely Cormac would want to settle down at some point with a nice witch who wasn't a workaholic and who didn't bore him to sleep with her pillowtalk. It wasn't fair to him for her to keep using him as she was.
Was that why he was so annoyed with her before with Krum? Did he think she was moving on with Viktor and still having him on the side? They never had any conversations about being exclusive, she figured he was probably seeing other witches when he was away on games. Not that that had ever bothered her. No, it didn't. Cormac was free to do as he pleased just as she was; they were just friends who kept running into each other to have a mutually beneficial good time. It wasn't serious. It didn't mean anything. That's why she left so quickly every time. There was no point in her enjoying his company, feeling safe in his arms, wearing his clothes and sharing his bloody toothbrush if they weren't together. And they weren't together. Because it's what they both wanted.
What she really wanted was for the blonde idiot to stop taking over her thoughts for ten minutes so she could get her work done. She could see the Grindylows lurking just below the surface as she edged closer, careful not to disturb the water. Hermione was usually quite good at not letting Cormac leech into other parts of her life, only letting him take over when she ran into him at the pub or when she was tangled in his sheets in the small hours of the morning. Recently thoughts of him had started lingering slightly longer. She was finding it harder the ignore the ache in her thighs as she tried to sit through a dull meeting after a night of him fucking her til she could hardly walk. She had started wearing high neck jumpers despite the fact the weather was a touch too sunny to warrant thick wool just because she didn't want to hide the marks his teeth had left on her neck just yet. It was ridiculous, she was hardly an expert Occlumens but she could not let stupid, pretty, obnoxious, gorgeous prat overtake her every thought!
Evidently she couldn't stop herself from thinking about him since she ended up accidentally casting her spell a bit too harshly over the lake in frustration and ended up disturbing the volatile creatures that were circling beneath the stagnant lake. The dark creatures broke the surface before she could control them. Hermione stumbled back from the rippling water, her boots slipping on the wet grass, her feet being dragged under, fingers clawing through the muddy grass as she tried to scramble for her wand before her head was pulled below the surface. Heat lanced up her legs as she tried to kick them off, sharp claws and tentacles wrapping around her limbs, determined to drag her further. Water filled her lungs as she flailed and screamed silently, her bones aching and eyes burning when she realised the futility in her actions. She couldn't stop the panic that was paralysing her, as if she was under the spell Dumbledore had cast on her during the Triwizard Tournament. Her arms felt too heavy and her blood burned beneath her skin. She wouldn't get out this time, she'd had someone looking out for her before but there was no Harry or Viktor to pull her out of the depths this time.
Her vision was tunneling around the edges as she sluggishly tried to fight the tight hold the creatures had her in, too panicked to realise the feel of arms wrapped around her instead of the sharp fingers and tentacles. Her choked coughs and panicked, sputtering breaths drowned out the sound of Cormac shouting to the others as he managed to drag her head above the water. Her heart beat pounding too loud in her ears muffled his shout, something about Burns and getting out of there before Hermione felt like she was being shoved through a straw.
Hermione's head spun and felt her stomach lurch as he apparated them into the bathroom at his flat. Cormac's arms tightened around her as she retched over the toilet, shivering and coughing as he tried to hold her hair out of her face.
"I thought you were the careful one out of your lot," he muttered as she calmed down, moving her to sit on the edge of the bath as he started rummaging through cupboards and turning the shower on.
"I am," Hermione croaked, "it wasn't like I intended to go for a nice swim with the horrid things. It was bad enough doing it once in fourth year."
"Don't talk about that," he hissed. "Here, drink this." Cormac shoved a potion in her hand before kneeling in front of her, inspecting the scratches around her ankle and calves the cretins had made when they tried to drag her under.
"I'm fine, you don't have to make a fuss," she tried to push him away as she sipped the Calming Draught he'd given her only to reel back at the anger that filled his eyes when he looked at her again.
"You are not fucking fine, Hermione! You just nearly drowned because you were too busy thinking about bloody Krum or Weasley or whatever cunt it was this week. That's not fine."
"I—I wasn't thinking about—"
"You're bloody ridiculous you know that," Cormac seethed even as he gently waved his wand over the claw marks, his magic warming her to the bone as she gaped at him. "Can't even see what's right in bloody front of you, smartest witch I've ever met but fuck me you're dense sometimes."
"I am not dense. Let me go—" Hermione tried to pull her leg away from his grasp only for him to tighten his hold and pull her down to his lap.
"Will you stop running away just fucking once? You always come crawling to me, well this time you're not leaving, alright?"
Hermione felt herself shake in his arms but she doubted it was because of the icy water that was still soaking her clothes. Cormac's eyes were hard as he stared down at her, frustration colouring his features as he waited for her to say something but nothing seemed to come out.
She didn't run away from him, that was just their arrangement, wasn't it? They weren't in a relationship—they just shagged. She didn't want to impose and make things awkward by trying to stay over. She understood what they were, what they both wanted out of this. Granted, they hadn't ever talked about it in so many details, she might've mentioned once that she wasn't interested in a relationship when they first reconnected but they both wanted the same thing didn't they?
"We've been doing this for over two years now, Hermione, surely you're not this confused," Cormac sighed, his eyes softening in resignation as she continued to just blink at him.
Hermione blinked at him, trying to swallow past the lump in her throat to answer him. "I thought…I thought this was what you wanted? I thought you liked things being casual?"
"Hermione, we've been sleeping together almost every week, multiple times a week, for two years, I don't think that's casual at this point," Cormac stared at her like she was a first year who didn't understand what a Floo was.
But things had always been casual between them, that was just how they worked, what they both wanted. He was a young professional Quidditch player in his prime and she was finally just finding her feet with her career, neither of them had time for a relationship. Hermione was sure that's how it always was, how Cormac must've always seen it. They hadn't ever talked about it, he'd never said he wanted things to be serious between them, had she really been that dense all this time?
Hermione was drunk. Very drunk. She had to be absolutely wasted since she was snogging none other than Cormac McLaggen in the toilets of the Leaky Cauldron.
It was all Ginny's fault. Apparently she didn't think it was healthy for Hermione to be shut in at the Ministry all day and then huddled in her small flat all night alone. No, Ginny insisted she should go outside, have fun, see people.
And she did. Lots of people. All of them asking her various invasive questions about Harry and Ron and how the 'Golden Trio' was doing now they were all working at the Ministry and could she possibly put a good word in with Kingsley for their family because they'd been trying to get a meeting with the Minister for ages?
Hermione wanted to scream. She wanted to kill Ginny and she wanted to die on the spot when she turned too quickly to try and escape the pushy Wizard only to collide with the solid chest of one Cormac McLaggen. And spill her drink all over him.
She wasn't entirely sure how it happened. She thought she might've dragged him to the toilets to try and clean up his shirt the Muggle way, too drunk to remember she could've just cast a charm and he was apparently more than happy to let her manhandle him to even dispute the matter.
He'd told her that the wizard who was harassing her for gossip and favours was a prick, offered to go out and punch him if she wanted. She'd laughed.
She'd kissed him when he told her he'd always liked her smile.
She probably wouldn't see Cormac ever again, there was no harm in kissing him.
"We've got to stop meeting like this, Granger," Cormac smirked at her frazzled appearance as she finally managed to escape an over-enthusiastic Quidditch player.
Ginny and Harry decided to throw a Christmas party at the newly refurbished Potter Manor. Hermione thought it was more of an excuse for Ginny to set up an elaborate plan to try and get Hermione laid. The Seeker for the Falmouth Falcons seemed to like that plan immensely.
"Help me," she hissed quickly, looking over her shoulder just as she saw the blonde twat approaching.
"What? Help you with—?"
Hermione kissed him again. Flung herself at him was probably more accurate. Laced her fingers behind his neck and pulled him down to her height until she could press their lips together. He was still for a moment, shock and confusion still present before he seemed to relax, his hands moving to her hips, pulling her closer against his body and his tongue moving against her own. Hermione's breath hitched as Cormac's hands wandered to her arse, his teeth nipping at her bottom lip before soothing it with a gentle caress making her moan and—
"Eh…"
Hermione jolted away from Cormac, the pair turning around to find the poor Seeker standing there drink in hand as he stared between the two of them in confusion.
"Alright, Chris?" McLaggen smiled cheekily, taking the drink that was intended for Hermione from his outstretched hand. "Cheers mate."
Ginny's plan was a success after all.
"Oh fuck, please, please, yes," Hermione cried.
"Don't stop, keep fucking riding me, don't fucking stop," Cormac panted beneath her, his hands bruising her hips and pulled her down harder on his cock.
It had been his idea this time. He'd approached her, heat in his eyes and drink in hand as he asked about her day. It was shit, she was angry and frustrated and needed…something.
Cormac was something. Cormac was there, he was always there.
"Please, Cormac," Hermione gasped as he moved his hand to circle her clit, "I need you, please."
His eyes burned through her as she came.
"Your feet are bloody freezing," Cormac grumbled against her hair as he cuddled around her.
"They are not," Hermione giggled, pressing her toes closer to his shins out of spite, making him hiss in annoyance even as his arms tightened around her bare stomach.
"Evil little brat."
"Fine, I'll take my cold feet elsewhere, then," she sighed dramatically, pulling away from his warmth.
"You don't have to leave," Cormac said quietly to her back as she pulled her shirt back on.
Hermione did though, didn't she? She'd never had this sort of casual relationship before, you probably weren't meant to stay the night, he was just being polite, surely.
She didn't want to leave but she didn't want to overstay her welcome. She liked, really liked, what she had with Cormac. She wouldn't ruin that by hanging around too long and annoying him.
She had to leave.
Oh, she really was the prat.
"But you've been seeing other girls, when you're away for games and—" Hermione shook her head, still trying to cling to a small part of her denial.
"I haven't been seeing other girls."
"You haven't?"
"No, have you?" He asked sharply.
"No, I haven't been seeing other girls," she tried to lighten the mood only to earn a glare for her cheek.
"Granger."
"No, I haven't been seeing anyone else," Hermione said seriously even as she rolled her eyes.
"Then what's your deal? Because we've been dating just without the title for two years now, my friends ask me about it all the time, fairly sure everyone but Weasley has clocked on to the fact I'm obsessed with you, so if you're not seeing anyone else why won't you just—?"
"Wait, everyone knows?" Hermione shrieked. Wasn't the whole point of a friends-with-benefits arrangement to be relatively private? She hadn't even told Ginny.
"Well, yeah," Cormac shrugged his shoulders. "Ginny overheard us shagging in the changing rooms six months ago and that was really the end of all kinds of subtlety. I tried to tell you to keep it down but…"
Hermione stared at him wide eyed as he trailed off. She'd been adamant that he wasn't that serious about all this, been adamant that she wasn't that serious. She ignored the butterflies she got every time she seen him, the fact she'd bought a season ticket to the Montrose Magpies even though she loathed Quidditch, ignored the fact that for the first time in her career she'd enjoyed actually spending time with someone after an exhausting day at the Ministry instead of just hiding alone in her flat. Hermione had ignored all of those ridiculous things because she told herself it would never ever happen again.
"I don't understand," she whispered.
"What's not to understand, Granger, I've been in love with you since bloody sixth year,"
"But I thought you wanted this to be casual? I thought that's what we both wanted?"
"Merlin's balls, Hermione, I just wanted whatever you could give me." Cormac gave a small shrug. "You kept going on about how busy we both were, even though I wasn't that busy at all. I mean I have great genetics in case you couldn't tell, I don't have to work that hard for my job, so I just let you go on thinking this had to be less serious than what it was so it wouldn't stress you out. You would think all the shagging would help relax you a bit but apparently not."
Hermione was once again left sitting gaping at him as nerves flooded her stomach. Or maybe it was girlish flattery that she was finally accepting that Cormac actually felt something for her. She hadn't been in a relationship before, she clearly wasn't very good at it. The fear from all the times she had forced herself to leave his bed lingered even as she met his warm eyes and returned his soft smile.
"I've…I've never been in a relationship before." Hermione muttered dryly, glaring at him when he scoffed, "I don't want to mess this up, well, more than I might've already done."
"You haven't messed it up, I've waited this long for you, witch, I can wait a bit longer for you to come around to my persistent charms." He winked at her before leaning in to kiss her.
"So, this is the last time, then?" She smiled against his mouth even as she wrapped her arms around his neck.
"You keep telling yourself that, love."