Last chance for changing lanes,
and you missed it by a mile.
Why won't she listen to me?
This must be it.
Welcome to the new year.
Together We'll Ring in the New Year, Motion City Soundtrack
*
6:15 PM
DEAN THOMAS?!? his mind screamed at him. DEAN?! It screamed again. He had returned home in what seemed like a daze, his mind reeling and his senses feeling numb. He now sat at the kitchen table at the flat he shared with Ron (Hermione had once lived with them but now owned her own place close by). He buried his head underneath his arms, moaning pathetically at himself. It was a good thing Ron was not here to witness him wallowing in self-pity... he had wisely chosen to steer clear of a muttering and dazed Harry to run a few errands before the party.
Dean Thomas... his mind said again, but a lot more calmly. Harry pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling a stress headache coming on. What was it with that bloke and his similar taste in women???
That was it. Harry should just get royally pissed right here in him and Ron's flat and just not go to the stupid party. Screw the millions of disco balls that glittered prettily on a large dance floor, promised to be pumping to some of the Wizarding World's best music. Forget the state of the art bar with professional bartenders mixing exotic drinks. Don't even think about a midnight kiss with Hermione. Harry did not feel like getting his butt smacked to kingdom come, thank you.
A loud Pop! sounded in the hallway, alerting Harry that Ron was now home. Harry straightened up, attempting to make it less obvious that he had been practically pulling out his hair in frustration. It would not do to become a drama queen about these things...
"Hey, mate," Ron said, stepping into the kitchen and throwing some groceries into the fridge (groceries being a fresh pack of Butterbeer and some eggs).
Harry merely grunted in response. Silence befell the two of them as Ron awkwardly shuffled about the kitchen, lingering to see if Harry would say something. Grab a glass of water... drink... slowly wash the glass by hand instead of magic... dry it thoroughly with dish rag...
"Hermione's going with Dean Thomas."
It was not a question, more of a defeated statement. It was the first time Harry had said the words out loud. He cringed a bit.
"Erm, yeah," Ron affirmed, carefully placing the glass back in the cupboard.
"I have to go talk to her," Harry said, determination radiating off of him. Ron was scarily reminded of the time they had received news of the location of the final horcrux.
"Look, Harry," Ron began, trying to hold Harry back from doing something stupid. "You don't want to go do something stupid." Harry looked disdainfully at Ron's hand on his arm. "I mean, come on. I didn't know about you fancying Hermione, so I doubt that she knows. It's not like she purposely chose Dean because she knew you were going to ask her!" Harry wanted to spit on this reasonable logic. "And it's not like they're seriously seeing each other! They're just going to the party together and..."
"Kissing at midnight," Harry said, pouting. He hated the fact that he sounded very much like a toddler being refused a cookie.
"W-ell, yes, maybe..." Ron said.
Harry was very tempted to jump up and down on the spot and yell But I wanted to kiss Hermione at midnight! He restrained himself.
But with a loud Pop! he did not restrain himself from Apparating straight to Hermione's flat, with Ron's protests ringing in his ears as he felt the familiar sensation of squeezing through a bottle.
*
6:31 PM
"Hermione!" Harry called out the moment he landed in her kitchen. "Hermione, I need to talk to you!"
"Harry?"
Harry swivelled around at the sound of her voice, greeted by the sight of Hermione obviously in the middle of getting ready. She wore a nice black and white top but with her pajama bottoms, and while her hair was down and gracefully curled, it looked like that she was just about to put some make-up on for the night.
Harry thought she looked gorgeous nonetheless. He never thought blue with teddy bears pants would go so nicely with the top she wore.
"Harry?" she repeated, looking a little worried. "Is something the matter?"
He momentarily forgot why he rushed over here in the first place. He wanted to smack his forehead at the fact that he did not even have the decency to Apparate at her front door and then ring the doorbell. "Er..." he started.
Hermione stared at him expectantly. A part of her was worried that a type of emergency had happened... maybe Ron? But Harry was sure taking a long time on his part on saying what he had to say...
"Y-you're going to the party with someone else already, aren't you?" he finally spit out, his voice raising pitifully at the end. He coughed gruffly in order to cover it up.
Hermione's face wore an almost sad expression. Harry was suddenly struck again with the thought of how familiar that look was to him.
"Y-es. I tried to tell you over the floo today but... we got interrupted." She sighed as she looked down at her hands, avoiding eye contact with him. "I'm going with Dean. Dean Thomas."
I'm going with Dean. Dean Thomas.
I'm going with Cedric. Cedric Diggory.
That's where Harry had seen that look before. He vaguely felt his heart deflating and floating pitifully down into the pit of his stomach.
"I'm sorry, Harry," Hermione said, and she looked it, too. She bit her lip, eyeing him apprehensively.
Back then, Harry had walked away in defeat, tail hanging between his legs.
But this was now.
"Come with me, instead," he said, his head snapping up.
Hermione stepped back in surprise, slightly startled by the intense defiance shining in his green eyes. "Harry..." she started.
"Come with me! Hermione, I want you to come with me to the party tonight! Be my date!" Harry grasped her hands and stared into her stricken face.
"H-Harry, I can't just do that to Dean! I already said I would go with him and-"
"Sod Dean!" Harry blurted out angrily.
Hermione stared at him in shock, yanking her hand out of his grasp. "Sod Dean?! Why should I sod Dean? He is a perfectly nice gentleman that actually asked me to the party beforehand! Don't think that I'm just going to drop everything because you're Harry Potter and it's only now that you're considering going on a date with me! Honestly, after all the times we've gone out to lunches and dinners together! Maybe you should have moved in a little faster there, Harry!"
Harry was struck dumb by her stout refusal and the fact that she had been aware of his feelings for her but was frustrated by his lack of making the first move. "But it's not like that!" he cried out. "Hermione, I-"
"Harry, I really think you need to leave right now. Dean will be here to pick me up and take me out to dinner, and then we will be attending Fred and George's party." She crossed her arms, a menacing look on her face that often told Harry and Ron to back off and go burrow into a nearby hole.
So it was with a heavy heart that Harry Apparated back to his and Ron's place.
He ignored Ron's interrogating questions and dragged himself up to his room.
He could not, however, ignore the fact that he had just foolishly mucked everything up, making the situation worse than it needed to be.
*
6:57 PM
"So, uh, Harry! I was thinking that maybe we should head on over to Fred and George's around seven thirty or eight? The invite said seven, but, hah, you know. Fashionably late and all that."
Silence.
"Yeah. I think eight will be a good time to go there."
Silence.
"Well, I'm going to go ahead and use the bathroom first to get ready, alright, mate?"
Silence.
*
7:09 PM
"Hey, mate, I'm done with the bathroom now so you can go ahead!"
More silence. A sigh.
"Look, Harry... moping isn't going to get you anywhere. I say that you go on over to the party, get nice and trashed and just find some other bird to snog at midnight, okay?"
A thump as a pillow flies towards the door.
"Okay, that sounded a lot better in my head."
More silence.
"Just come tonight, okay, Harry? There'll be so many people there you won't even notice Hermione!"
*
7:22 PM
"Seriously, mate! We have to get going soon and you're not even ready!"
Shuffling footsteps behind the door.
"Have you showered yet? Oh geez, you take forever in the shower, we'll never make it on time if you do..."
Door opening, green-eyed glare.
"Fine! Shower! Do what you like! But we're out of here by eight fifteen at the latest!"
Grumble.
*
8:40 PM
Ron was a big, fat liar. He glared at the spot on the dance floor where Ron was having a grand old time dancing with Luna Lovegood and a few other girls. Harry had half a mind to set his pants on fire.
Won't even notice Hermione, he had said. Harry knocked back a few chugs of his Butterbeer. He was starting off light.
The moment Hermione waltzed into the party, which was already pumping despite the early hour before midnight, Harry felt his gaze being drawn to her. He resented how close Dean stuck by her.
Happy bloody New Year, he toasted to himself. The bartender slid over a shot glass full of Firewhiskey as if reading his downtrodden mind.
Time to get pissed.
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