The gangly employee leaped up at once, apologizing and then hurrying down the hall to help recover her things. Embarrassed, with a crimson face, Hermione gave a tired sigh, and then began crawling about on her hands and knees, collecting the various papers that had flown about, aware of how uncomfortably clingy her wet clothes were from the rain, and how much her hands smarted from the fall.

"Haven't seen you in that position in a number of years, Hermione," came the voice of Cormac McLaggen. "Although, if memory serves correctly, you were wearing a lot less. The blush is still the same, however." And it still looks just as nice on her.

You must be bloody kidding me.

Hermione got off her knees very slowly, and turned around even more slowly, cringing. It couldn't be him. She hadn't seen him in years.

When she had fully swiveled, however, she saw that it was, unfortunately, Cormac McLaggen, wearing his best suit for work, and looking charming, if somewhat devilish. He still hadn't lost that glint in his eye. In fact, he was almost entirely unchanged. Hermione hoped he wouldn't think the same of her; if she still resembled the gawky, self-conscious girl fresh from Hogwarts, she would rather not know...but Cormac McLaggen would be sure to inform her if that was the case. He'd always fancied himself something of a wit.

"Lovely to see that you remember me, Mr. McLaggen," Hermione replied brightly. "And such memories! How kind of you to remind me just what transpired last time we met."

"Of course I remember you, Miss Granger. And it was a pleasant memory, after all," he said with a grin. And at least I didn't call you kitten, although you didn't seem to mind then.... "The past few years have been most kind to you--you're even more lovely." Pretty smile. Oh yes.

Hermione noticed his eyes traveling up and down the contours of her body, and couldn't resist giving Cormac a little once-over as well. The same attractive, almost adorable smirk; the same bright eyes and hair swooping across his forehead; muscled arms apparent even through his suit, and, if Hermione recollected correctly and nothing had changed, a tight, firm arse that was delightful to look at, whether tucked into a suit or astride a broomstick.

"Always so flattered to be one of the few Muggleborns who merits a compliment from the lips of Cormac McLaggen," Hermione quipped sweetly, looking at him up through thick lashes. Why did this man always bring out her inner flirt?

"Well, you know me. Always trying to improve relations between wizard-kind and others. A public service, if you will," he said.

"How benevolent of you," Hermione replied. She pressed her lips together in thought. "If memory serves me well, I recall most services you had to offer were quite...beneficial. Delightful, in fact." She smiled at him, tilting her head coquettishly.

"And who has the excellent memory now? Although, I do have more to offer now by way of services," he said with a sly grin, and reached out and tucked a lock of her wet hair behind an ear; Hermione shivered at the contact as his fingers brushed against her cheek.

"Are you on your way somewhere? You're cold. My office is just down the hall if you'd like to join me for some tea..." he trailed off, arching an eyebrow suggestively.

"Tea sounds lovely," Hermione replied. "I was going to drop by and surprise Harry with a visit before work, but as I'm late already, some more dilly-dallying can't hurt." She followed Cormac to his office; his secretary gave her a surprised, if somewhat resigned, look, and then she was sitting in his quite luxurious office, looking around at everything and admiring how spacious it was. Unsurprisingly, Cormac had worked his way up rather quickly.

Cormac stuck his head back out of his office door. "Hildi, bring us some tea, please."

He motioned to one of the comfortable chairs in front of his desk. "Please, have a seat, Hermione," he said with a smile. He surprised her by sitting in the chair beside her instead of behind his desk. "So what has Hogwarts' finest been doing?" he asked. "Obviously, you can see what I've kept busy with, but I'd love to hear all about you," he said, grinning.

Hildi stepped into the room with a smile, bearing a tea tray. "Excuse me for interrupting. Your tea," she said, and set it on Cormac's desk and left the room, closing the door behind her.

Hermione took up the teacup eagerly; the rain had chilled her to the bone, and she took a long sip before answering Cormac's question.

"I'm not doing very much, to be honest," she replied. "I'm apprenticed to a magical geneticist, and while the work we're doing has the potential to be groundbreaking, we're a long ways off yet." She frowned at that. "Otherwise, I work at Flourish and Blotts--have to pay the rent somehow."

She chewed on her lip a bit, trying to think of any other news that might bear reporting. The only thing that came to mind was rather embarrassing, and she tried to tuck it away again, but it was too late: her cheeks had gone scarlet, and she ducked her head in embarrassment. She noticed that Cormac was wearing rather nice shoes made of very expensive Italian leather.

"Genetics? Why does that not surprise me at all? You are brilliant, after all." He touched her knee with his hand lightly. "And we all have to pay the rent, love. Flourish and Botts is lucky to have you." Cormac was silent for a moment, but then had to ask, "So what's the blush for? Before this morning, the only times I've seen you blush like that is when--"

"Yes, I know. Do spare me the details," Hermione interrupted. "I suspect your secretary's eavesdropping, and while I'm sure I'm not the only girl to meander into your office, I'd like to leave with something of my reputation in tact." She laughed at that one. "Though you do have a nasty habit of...how how can I put it? 'Tainting' me? That sounds so sinister." She laughed again. "After all, it was consensual."

"You don't have to be concerned about Hildi; she's very discreet." He paused. "I tainted you?" He couldn't hold back a laugh. "When you wanted to be tainted--yes--I tainted you. Quite thoroughly as a matter of fact." I'd love to have occasion to taint you again--and soon.

Hermione raised her eyebrows suggestively. "Care to explain how one goes about sex un-thoroughly, Cormac?" Shaking her head, she finished her tea, and placed the cup and saucer neatly on top of his desk. His hand was still lingering near her knee. She knew he was a right bastard most of the time, but it was difficult to fight the attraction. Old habits died hard, and, oddly enough, Cormac McLaggen was probably the most appropriate place for her to be directing her pent-up sexual frustration right now, considering the other options were Ron, who sparked no lust in her whatsoever, or Charlie, his brother, which was entirely out of the question.

"Or, maybe," Hermione added, grinning wickedly, "you'd like to give me a demonstration?" When he looked surprised at her brazen behavior, Hermione felt a little thrill shoot down her spine; it was fun to be a little too flirtatious sometimes, especially with someone like Cormac, who she already felt comfortable around. She arched an eyebrow, and said smoothly, "Or perhaps I should?" She reached for the top button on her blouse, and undid it slowly. Then the second, and, finally, the third, so Cormac could see just a hint of the pale blue bra she had underneath, and quite a bit of her breasts, which fell out of her bra rather becomingly. "Am I sparking any fond memories, Cormac?" she teased.

Twist my arm a bit more, Hermione, really.

They both thought back to Cormac's early days at the ministry. He had only been working there for a little under two years when Hermione had arrived, fresh from finishing up her seventh year at Hogwarts (albeit a year late, as she'd spent what should have been her seventh year battling Voldemort), hoping to intern in his department and maybe someday work her way up to Minister. Well, she'd never said so outright, but her goal had been clear from the start: she'd been energetic, hardworking, and a little too much of a kiss-arse with everyone she met. Finally, it became too hard for Cormac to resist. He'd started flirting with her, just to see the stumble in her step, the confused smile, the uneasiness when she walked into a room with him. Hermione was not accustomed to male attention, especially with her Hogwarts boyfriend off mastering the Quidditch pitch day and night. Still, it had been surprising when she all but threw herself at him, using that remarkable determination in a brand new direction: sex. Cormac hadn't known until moments before they climbed into bed together that she had been a virgin, but once it spilled from her lips, he'd understood. She'd just been desperate to be done with it, and he was the lucky fellow chosen for the task.

Fond memories, indeed. Merlin help me. Does she want to be shagged on my desk? As in more academic areas of her life, Hermione had been a diligent student and had put her all into excelling in this area of study. Her fingers. That tongue. Her body. Who'd have imagined that underneath those lumpy sweaters and woolen skirts she looked like that? It had been worth it--that sneaking feeling of being used. Her eagerness had paid off in spades, and Cormac still marveled at what a lover she'd turned out to be, once she got over her shyness. He'd almost felt lucky that she'd chosen him to be the pawn in her game; what did it matter that he'd walked right into her trap, helped her get rid of that pesky virgin status, and then been kept around because he was more likable than she'd reckoned he would be? Of course, then she'd left him for that Weasley prat. Cormac still didn't understand that one--just as he didn't quite understand why Hermione was on the verge of stripping in his office.

Dumbly, all Cormac could say was, "What ever happened to Weasley? Are you still seeing him?"

Hermione froze, her fingers still fiddling with the fourth button on her blouse. Just like Cormac to bring reality crashing down. For a moment, it had been like the old days, sitting across a conference table from him, slipping her stockinged foot higher and higher up his leg, or leaning over his desk so he could see down her blouse. But that had been quite a few years, now, and things between them had changed. Hermione wondered for an embarrassing moment if Cormac was seeing someone, and that's why he'd stopped her short so suddenly. Whatever the case, it was good that he had. She was about to make an utter fool of herself!

"Sort of," Hermione replied, doing up the buttons on her blouse in a hurry. "But that's been a strange relationship from the start."

Cormac leaned forward in his chair, as though interested, and Hermione eyed him appreciatively. It was a pity he wasn't interested in her anymore. He was one of the best-looking men she'd ever met, and for a few minutes she'd seriously been considering throwing her scruples out the window and instigating another pseudo-relationship. He was probably healthier for her than Charlie was--though not by much. He was so different, too. That dark hair, and broody expression, and those piercing eyes. And he was taller, too, and more...more suave. Hermione was glad she'd gotten her head back on straight. She might have gotten carried away once she peeled a few articles of clothing off that beautiful body.

He sighed wistfully as he watched Hermione button up her blouse. Bloody brilliant of you, Cormac. A gorgeous woman starts undressing in your office, and you ask her about her boyfriend. Gods. "Really, strange you say? Wish I could say I'd love to chat about the details, but I don't. I was enjoying our visit a lot more when you were removing your clothes."

"Really?" Hermione laughed, a little startled. "I must admit, you didn't give me that impression." She sat back in her chair, crossing her legs and swinging one foot idly. "And now, well, I'm not entirely sure if I'm in the mood to strip for you, anymore." Hermione could feel the adrenaline thrumming in her veins; it had been such a long time since she'd been so bold with a man...but it was so easy to slip back into this with Cormac, her first lover. He was always going to be her ultimate comfort zone, and now she had the opportunity to revisit it for some reinvigoration.

"I think," Hermione said, licking her lips lightly, "that it's actually your turn, my dear." She smiled broadly, not a coquettish smile in the least, but she meant business, and her eyes, boring into Cormac's, made that clear.

Cormac swallowed hard. Did she mean that, or was she just toying with him? He reached for his tie, and fumbled with the knot awkwardly. He glanced down at his hands, and as his eyes traveled downwards, they passed Hermione, whose eyelids had lowered slightly, and who had settled more comfortably into the chair. She was watching him, and Cormac felt his body flash first hot, and then cold. In a minute, he was no longer sitting in his office chair, with Hildi at the desk on the other side of the door. He was perched on the armchair in Hermione's flat, as she lay sprawled across the sofa, eyes fixed on him in an identical manner, and her voice teasing--"Go on, Cormac. I think it's time you gave me a little display. Go on."

Making short work of his tie, he slipped it over his head and tossed it towards Hermione on the sofa. Unbuttoning his shirt one button at a time, he maintained eye contact with her, as it was a turn on for him--watching her watch him. Shrugging off his shirt made the muscles of his chest ripple and bunch and her sharp gasp made him feel as if he were on fire. Standing up, he unbuckled his belt and slipped it out of his trousers, amused when he saw Hermione's eyes stay on his trousers, not what he was doing with the belt.  He moved closer to her on the sofa and unbuttoned and unzipped his trousers and let them slide down his legs. Stepping out of them, and standing in front of Hermione in just his boxers, he could hardly breathe for the look of sheer lust on her face. About to divest himself of them, Hermione surprised them both, as she reached for him, hooking her fingers in the waistband and roughly pulling them down.

Exhaling sharply, Cormac said, "Is that what you really want? Because I'll give it to you if it is."

Hermione inhaled sharply, as though echoing Cormac in reverse. She stared at his bobbing Adam's apple, and the slight sheen of sweat on Cormac's brow, and--

She was wrapped in the blankets on Cormac's bed, their softness caressing her naked body, when she heard a low chuckle and Cormac whisper, "You little thief. I was wondering where the blankets went." She moaned and her eyes fluttered open when he began to unravel her from the blanket, pulling upwards and letting her roll out of her cocoon, a smirk on his face. His body was covered with a slight sheen of sweat, and she wondered sleepily why, if he had been going without blankets, but then he was kissing her, pressing his body against hers, and she realized he was hot with desire. Emerging from her sleepy state straight into lust was a radical shift, but it was a fabulous feeling; her body was just waking up when Cormac slid down the bed to kiss her thighs, and run his tongue over her center, and she moaned his name loudly, all of the nerves in her body suddenly on fire, energized--she had never felt so awake or alive.

Hermione gripped the arms of Cormac's office chair, and shook her head to clear it. She realized a half-second too late that he would have taken that as a rejection, and, indeed, she saw a flicker of--disappointment? Annoyance? Frustration? across Cormac's face as he looked away. She almost felt guilty; she'd been leading him on, and then accidentally refused him, and she couldn't allow that. She leaned forward, and ran a finger down his cheek softly; he turned back towards her, and she gave him a sexy smile, reassuring him that she hadn't quite meant no--even if she didn't really mean yes, either.

Cormac felt as if he had been burnt where Hermione had touched his face; he reached out and pulled her onto his lap.

He groaned as Hermione's face disappeared into his lap. Sitting at his chair in his newly appointed office, he couldn't help but smile in satisfaction, as Hermione was fulfilling a long time fantasy of his. His hands fisted her hair, and he was trying not to interfere with the pace she was setting. Her lips were soft against his hardness, her tongue was wet against his heat and her small hands were doing things to him that he had never thought possible. "I should have known, love," he said in a rush. "Should've know you'd be sodding spectacular at this, too." He tightened his hold on her hair and moaned incomprehensibly as she brought him to completion, still lavishing her attention on him until the very last shudder passed through him. "Full marks, Miss Granger."

Hermione hadn't been this close to a man she was attracted to in a long time; she wrapped an arm around his neck and squirmed slightly in his lap; if she wasn't mistaken, she could feel the slight stirring of an erection underneath the pinstripe trousers of his very smart suit. She took a deep breath, and laid a chaste kiss to Cormac's forehead. "This is quite silly of us, you know," she said. "How many years has it been? And I'm back in your lap, where it all began?" She shook her head, but it wasn't helping this time--the memory came unbidden.

He was sliding her off his knees, laying her back against the cool white sheets; her thighs were gelled together, sticky with lust, but firmly closed--she was nervous, she was afraid, and she had just confessed everything. There had been a spasm of irritation on his handsome features, but then they had softened, and now he was murmuring to her as he laid her out against the sheets, kissing her body gently, touching her lightly, whispering nothing at all as his finger slipped between her thighs and rubbed against her slowly; she arched her back, and he murmured, "There's a good girl, don't be nervous," and she felt some of the anxiety slip away as he increased his speed and pressure and her body began to fall apart at the seams. He was lying next to her now, and sucking one of her nipples into his mouth, but he was still touching her, and whispering to her, and she felt wonderful, so wonderful, loved, beautiful--he was telling her she was beautiful, and....He had sat up, was now holding himself above her, his beautiful chest at eye level, and then he slipped lower, and met her eyes, and she choked up--she was terrified--terrified--

"Don't worry," he said, as he pried her thighs apart with one hand; she shivered, and he touched her there again, insistently, his eyes blazing. "Don't worry. It will be fine, love. Hermione, love, don't worry." And then he sank into her, and she cried out his name at once.

Hermione shuddered with the feelings that accompanied that powerful memory washing over her. What a memory! What an experience. When she thought of all that had followed--what a little fiend in bed she'd become, how amazing some of the sex afterwards had been, she felt like a fool. But at the time she had been frightened, and felt ridiculous for leading on such a man, only to reveal she was a virgin. But he had never held a grudge against her for it--had never made her feel badly about it. Had just given himself to her, unasked. Cormac McLaggen was a bit of a bastard, and everybody knew it, but Hermione didn't think most people knew what a wonderful person he was underneath, as well.

Back in the lap of love. "Mmhhmm. It is a bit silly. But still...." He caught her mouth in a bruising kiss, gaining immediate entrance with his tongue, and tightened his arms around her as if preparing for her to change her mind at any moment. Pulling her shirt out of her skirt he reached underneath for that silky blue bra he had seen earlier. Cupping a breast with his hand, he began unbuttoning her blouse with his other hand.

Hermione gasped into his mouth, her mind whirling. All this teasing, this unsubtle flirtation, and yet she'd never really thought it would lead anywhere. She arched her body into his, reveling in how delightfully the same he felt--he kissed the same way, palmed her breasts in the same insistent manner--and yet how fresh and new these sensations were, after such a long time without them. She kissed him back hungrily, fisting her hands in his hair and enjoying the way he moaned at her touch.

"So, you'll never believe what happened in my office last week, mate," came a loud, cheery voice from the direction of the door. Hermione gasped, and flung herself out of Cormac's arms, landing haphazardly half on her chair and half on the floor; Cormac panted heavily and glared at Michael Corner, who stood stricken at the door.

"Was it anything like what you just interrupted here in my office, mate?" Cormac asked with a not-so-friendly look on his face. Catching himself on the verge of being impolite to a friend, he added, "Hermione Granger, Michael Corner. I'm sure you remember each other. And no, Hermione, he's not usually this... present."

"Something along those lines, yeah," Michael murmured, his cheeks flaming red with embarrassment. He nodded at Hermione, not meeting her eyes. "Nice to see you, Hermione. I've heard lots about you, of course. Savior of the wizarding world and all that. Well, best friend of. Of course, you did do an awful lot in your own right, too, I'm sure." He was babbling, now, but couldn't seem to stop; he glanced up at Cormac and cracked a grin. "Blimey, mate. Quidditch players, Slytherin heiresses, Hermione bloody Granger--you've got yourself quite nicely taken care of, eh?"

Hermione sucked in her breath, and stood up at once. "Cormac, it was lovely to see you--I think. Michael, good to know you haven't changed since Ginny dumped you." She pulled her blouse closed with her hands, and swept out of the office, her skirt catching on the armrest and offering Cormac one last, lonely glimpse of what he'd almost had (again).

Cormac scowled. "Nice going. Did you really have to give her a synopsis of my little black book?"


{Summary: Hermione Granger and Cormac McLaggen have a little rendezvous. Surprisingly, it is not their first. }