I actually wrote and published (on AO3) this piece last December and realized I never posted it here. It was part of a Secret Santa exchange, and my prompts were Cormac/Hermione, coworkers, and "Say something. Anything."
A Present for Cormac
"Hey, Hermione, drinks tonight?" Cormac asked, poking his head around the door to Hermione's office.
She repressed the urge to roll her eyes. "You ask me that every Friday, Cormac, and my answer is always —"
"'No, thank you,'" Cormac finished, smiling goodnaturedly at her. "I know, I know. You don't go out with coworkers."
"Correct." Hermione turned back to the neatly organized stacks of parchment on her desk. "If you'll excuse me..."
As soon as she heard the door close, she stared down at the first sheaf of parchment her eyes fell on. It was labeled "Christmas Gifts," and below it she had carefully written down the names of all of her coworkers. Most of the names had gift ideas next to them, but the space next to 'Cormac' was blank.
She sighed. What could she give him?
...
"How should I know what McLaggen likes?" Ron said impatiently. "I can't say I go out of my way to make conversation with the bloke."
"I know," Hermione said, "but I just thought maybe you'd heard him mention something about enjoying a certain restaurant or going to a game—hang on, Quidditch! He likes Quidditch, right?"
Ron shrugged. "He went out for the Gryffindor team, I suppose he must've liked it a bit."
Hermione began to pace. "I don't know his favorite team, though," she fretted. "And tickets can be ever so expensive—"
"It's just a Christmas present, Hermione, don't think so hard," Ron said in a tone that was probably meant to be reassuring. "Just find a cheap ticket for a match, any match. It's the thought that counts, right?"
Hermione stopped pacing to stare at him. " It's the thought that counts? " she echoed, shaking her head. "Ron, I can't just give him any old ticket. If he sees that I put effort into everyone else's presents and not his, it's going to send a bad message!"
"Ask him, then?" Ron asked, looking put out. "I'm sure you can figure out a way to casually ask him what his favorite team is."
Hermione's eyes lit up with sudden inspiration. "Yes, I think I can manage that."
...
"Good morning, Cormac!" Hermione said brightly, unwinding her scarf in the doorway to his office. "I'm really glad I caught you, I've got this...problem, and I was hoping you might be able to help me."
Cormac leaned forward in his desk chair. "Go on."
"I've got these, um, Quidditch tickets, and I was hoping you might know someone I could give them to. I can't go to the match myself, you see..."
"Are they for Puddlemere?" Cormac asked hopefully.
"No," Hermione said quickly. "Are they your favorite team, though? Because if I ever get my hands on Puddlemere tickets, I'd be happy to pass them on to you...if I couldn't make it myself, that is!" She forced out a laugh that sounded about as unnatural as it possibly could have, and cringed inwardly.
Thankfully, Cormac didn't seem to notice. He was too busy nodding. "Yeah, I love Puddlemere. They're top-notch."
Hermione clutched her scarf to her chest and flashed him a grin. "Great. I completely agree. Thanks for your help!"
With that, she hurried away, missing the odd look on Cormac's face. As soon as she entered her own office, she let out a quiet, "Yes!" Cormac's gift was settled. Now she just had to find a way to get her hands on a cheap ticket or two...
...
Cormac stared wordlessly down at the pair of gold tickets in his hand.
"Cormac? Say something. Anything," Hermione pleaded. He wasn't even pretending to be excited. Perhaps he was in shock?
He cleared his throat. "Puddlemere United tickets... how'd you swing these?"
She gave him a coy smile. "I have my ways." Or rather, Ginny did, but Hermione wasn't about to mention that.
"Well, thanks," Cormac grinned. "I can't say I'm surprised, though."
Hermione felt her jaw drop. "You're not?"
"Nah. You kind of gave it away when you asked me about those supposed Quidditch tickets you had," he replied.
"Wait, you knew I was pretending?" Hermione's shoulders slumped slightly.
"Well, yeah," he said with a laugh. "Come on, Hermione, you've made no secret about hating Quidditch."
"I don't hate it—" she began hotly.
"Then maybe you'd like to come with?" His brown eyes were full of hope.
"—think it's completely barbaric—wait, what did you just say?"
"Would you like to come with me?" Cormac asked again.
"Oh." Hermione blushed slightly. "That would be a date, wouldn't it?"
"It wouldn't have to be," he said hastily.
Hermione laughed. "Well, as long as you don't mind me talking your ear off about the dangers of the sport…"
Cormac grinned widely at her, and she found that she couldn't look away. "I definitely wouldn't mind that."
