Celandine's Chronicle (celandineb) wrote in cels_fic_haven, @ 2015-06-16 16:30:00 |
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Entry tags: | hp ficlets harry/cormac, hp quill-it 100.3 |
HP ficlet: Hold Him to It [Harry/Cormac, general]
Title: Hold Him to It
Author: celandineb
Fandom: HP
Pairing: Harry/Cormac
Rating: general
Length: 612 words
Summary: Harry unexpectedly meets up with a fellow former Gryffindor.
Note: For quill_it, 100.3, prompt 9, "bound". For koshweasley who requested Cormac.
"Hullo, Harry." The voice was rich and deep, with a hint of sexy growl. Just the kind of voice that sent a delightful shiver down Harry's spine.
His shoulders tightened instinctively at the greeting nevertheless. While there were occasional benefits to being famous throughout the wizarding world, they were greatly outweighed by the disadvantages, one of which was being recognized and importuned by everyone and his Crup. He repressed a sigh and turned.
To his surprise, the man standing beside his table was someone he knew. Not well, and indeed his feelings toward Cormac McLaggen had always been less than fond. Being hit on the head with a beater's bat wasn't something that would exactly endear the hitter to the one thus walloped. But still, he did know Cormac, which was a plus. Cormac was unlikely to be asking for financial support for a new business, or for a charitable donation, or even for an autograph.
"Cormac," said Harry. He hesitated only an instant before adding, "Have a seat." At least that ought to prevent anyone else from coming up and bothering him.
"Thanks." Cormac set down his glass—butterbeer by the look of it; Harry approved—and slid onto the bench seat. "I don't mean to interrupt you, I expect you're waiting for someone, I just wanted to greet a fellow old Gryffindor."
"No worries. I'm not meeting anyone, actually, just here for a butterbeer before I go home." Harry shrugged, not wanting to explain that even though being in public could get annoying, loneliness in his flat was sometimes worse.
"I see. Same here," said Cormac. "Er. Look. I know it's awfully late in the day, but I did want to apologize to you… for that Quidditch game, you know, when I hit you over the head, and lost the match for us." He had the grace to look embarrassed as he spoke. "I was a complete git and there was no excuse for it."
"It's all right," Harry said, embarrassed in his turn. "Gryffindor won the Cup anyhow."
"Still." Cormac took a swallow of his butterbeer. "It's bothered me for a long time, so, I'm sorry."
"Forgotten," said Harry firmly. "Honestly. Don't give it another thought."
He watched Cormac's throat move as he finished his drink. "Can I buy you another?"
Cormac's eyes widened. "Are you sure?"
"Why not?" Harry rose and picked up both glasses. "I'll be right back."
Butterbeer might not be alcoholic, but Harry found himself talking easily with Cormac over their second glasses, and then their third.
"Can I ask you something?" said Cormac eventually. "I mean, it might be out of bounds."
"You can ask, I don't promise to answer," said Harry.
"Would you, er, would you like to have dinner with me sometime? It needn't be tonight if you don't want." Cormac's face had gone slightly pink.
Oh, that stupid article from The Daily Prophet. Not that it wasn't true, but… On the other hand, Cormac hadn't been acting like someone who would brag about pulling Harry Potter, and Harry hadn't fancied anyone else in ages. Not that he would say he fancied Cormac—not yet—but Cormac was attractive enough to provoke Harry's interest. And with that voice…
"Why not tonight?" Harry kept his tone light. "But let's go somewhere else besides the Leaky. There's a great Muggle chip shop near my flat; we could get a takeaway."
Cormac's eyes shone. "Whatever you like, Harry."
"I'll hold you to that," Harry said. He was only half joking, which Cormac seemed to realize.
"You can hold me to anything you want," Cormac said. "I owe you that… and I look forward to it."