All is quiet on New Year's Day
A world in white gets underway
And I want to be with you
Be with you night and day
Nothing changes on New Year's Day
New Years Day, U2
*
9:23 PM
Harry wasn't even on his second shot of Firewhiskey when Luna Lovegood came strolling over, sitting down on the barstool next to him. She looked hot and sweaty from excessive dancing, but was absolutely glowing. She wore a sparkling top that rivaled the disco balls twirling above and her pair of earrings were clocks with spinning hands. She was humming along serenely to the music that was currently playing.
"What can I get you, love?" the bartender asked, coming over to where she sat.
"I think I would very much like some Sex on the Beach," she replied, causing Harry to choke a little bit on his drink.
"How are you doing tonight, Harry?" she asked, beaming at him. Harry deduced that Luna was simply not blurry enough (nor were the other partygoers). He chugged heavily on a glass that contained a glowing, green substance. The taste made his eyes water.
"I'm having a splendid time, actually," Luna continued on, as if Harry had asked her. "Ronald is a very good dancer." She fingered her clock earrings for a bit. "Hermione looks like she's having a good time."
Harry wanted to chug another drink at that statement, but there was no alcohol within reaching distance at that moment.
"Dean Thomas is her date," she said matter-of-factly. "He is very good with his hands."
Harry choked on air. "Wh-what?" he exclaimed. This definitely fell in the "too much information" department.
"Well, he is!" she agreed adamantly. "Thank you." The bartender had placed her drink in front of her. "Do you happen to have a straw? The fun-coloured ones? Thanks!" She sipped thoughtfully from her drink, idly playing with the paper umbrella as Harry stared disbelievingly at her. He was unsure whether he wanted to know more or nothing at all. She stopped sipping and smacked her lips appreciatively. "He's an artist! I heard he moved on from drawing and is actually dabbling in sculpting and things like that. Maybe I should ask him for an original work. You never know if he'll become famous." She smiled at Harry. "It was so good talking to you, Harry! I think I'll go back to dancing. I do enjoy this song!"
She took off, leaving her barely touched drink. Harry figured she wouldn't be back and decided to finish it. He clutched the drink possessively, his eyes sweeping over to where Hermione was dancing happily with Dean. The glare might have been threatening if the happy, orange drink didn't take away from the effect slightly.
Hermione instinctively looked over her shoulder, seeing a familiar pair of green eyes staring at her. She rolled her eyes.
*
10:01 PM
At one point, Harry realized how truly revolting his behaviour was and attempted having a good time himself. So he left his place at the bar after only a few drinks. He wasn't even drunk. Only slightly buzzed. Really.
He danced a bit with Lavender, Parvati, Padma and Susan Bones. He really was starting to have a good time. He was beginning to be proud of himself!
"Hey, mate!" Ron came up next to him, clapping him on the shoulder. "Glad to see that you finally loosened up! You still have about two hours to go!" His face was broken into a wide smile, slightly redder than usual and his speech a tiny bit slurry, probably thanks to a few drinks.
"I know! I don't know what I was thinking!" Harry said loudly, trying to make his voice go louder than the music.
"You weren't, that's what! I'm proud of you, Harry. You really have to start off the year right! And mooning over Hermione isn't going to get you anywhere!"
"Excuse me, boys! I believe we haven't danced yet!"
Harry froze, that voice sending a chill up his spine.
"Why sure, Hermione!" Ron said jovially. "Here, you can dance with Harry first though. I'm going to go grab another drink!" He disappeared amongst the sea of bobbing, dancing heads.
"I really think you've had enough, Ron!" Hermione screamed at his back. He merely waved at her dismissively. "So! Let's dance, Harry!"
Harry gulped as she moved in front of him, hips swaying dangerously to the beat of the music. Her close proximity was driving him mad. The smell of her shampoo and lingering perfume was wafting temptingly into his nostrils. The feel of her gyrating body against him was hypnotic. Harry's head was swimming and it wasn't because of the alcohol.
It was when Hermione slowly raised up her arms and reached behind her to touch his neck that Harry immediately tensed. She sensed this and turned around to face him, a questioning look in her eyes. But Harry couldn't help but feel that there was something else in there. Almost like she was-
No… his mind tried to convince him. He stepped back.
Hermione reached out to him, but he stepped back even further, crashing into the couple dancing next to them. They cast annoyed glances their way.
"I-I think it's Ron's turn now," he said and he ran.
*
10:55 PM
Harry had ran into the bathroom. He splashed cool water on his face and stared dejectedly at his reflection. He was so confused.
Suddenly, the door burst open. A girl (in the men's bathroom, yes) ran in, going straight for the first stall. Harry distinctly heard her heave out her insides, or at least the hor d'oeuvres she had been eating earlier.
Maybe some cool air is what I need…
*
11:11 PM
On the bright side, his mind thought ironically, maybe being outside makes me immune to Fred and George's arse whip from hell. Too bad your buzz is killed…
"It's past eleven."
Harry gloomily turned around from his spot on a bench underneath a lit lamppost in Diagon Alley, the pumping bass and cheery voices emanating from the building behind him. Hermione hesitantly approached him.
"So?" he asked.
"Well, don't you want to be inside for the countdown?" she asked him.
Harry shrugged. "Doesn't matter anyway. New Year's Day is just another day, if you ask me."
"Is it really?" she questioned, sitting down next to him.
Harry looked at her quizzically. "What are you doing?" he asked her. "Shouldn't you be inside with Dean?" His voice held a little more venom than he wanted it to.
It was Hermione's turn to shrug. "Not necessarily. I've been with him most of the night. We're not joined at the hip, you know." She turned to look at him. "Are you jealous, Harry?"
Harry was taken aback by her bluntness.
Hermione chuckled a bit. "You don't have to answer that. I already know."
Harry wouldn't have been surprised if the whole world knew. He couldn't say that he was proud of his behaviour that night.
"Sorry," he mumbled, finally admitting defeat. "For being a prick."
Hermione wrapped an arm around his shoulders hugging him to her side, laughing. "Oh, Harry. You're a lot of things, but you're not a prick." She kissed the top of his head, then leaning her own head against his. She sighed happily. "It's wonderful that you apologized, Harry. One should always start the new year off right and with a clean slate." She then rose from her seat. Harry already missed her warmth. She took a look at her watch, then laughed quietly. "Eleven eleven. Make a wish, Harry."
With that, she went back to the party, Harry staring at her retreating figure.
*
11:55 PM
Harry went back inside the party, the intense heat of the interior overwhelming after being in the cold, night air outside. The excitement in the air was rising as midnight steadily drew nearer. Couples could already be seen pairing up, preparing for the stroke of twelve. Harry's eyes roved over the room, finally landing on a familiar figure at the bar, sipping thoughtfully from a glass of red wine.
He was just going to go up to her. She said it herself: her and Dean were not joined at the hip. Dean had no real claim on her. Who was he to stop him from stealing a kiss from Hermione at midnight? He was her best friend… he should have some type of right, shouldn't he? He took a determined step forward but immediately regretted it when he saw the tall, dark form of Dean approach her.
He had half a mind to just Apparate back home. Nobody would miss him anyway. He watched their exchange, glowering as Dean passed Hermione a champagne glass and the two laughed together.
But suddenly, Harry saw Dean turn around and leave. He left! He left Hermione at the bar! By herself! This was his opportunity!
"Now seeing as my counterpart has gotten himself intoxicated to the point of not forming coherent sentences, I guess I'm going to be the ringleader of tonight's countdown! Now, how do I do this again?" Fred said from the DJ's table, his voice echoing all around. "Ah, here we go!" With a complicated swish of his wand, Fred conjured a 3-D image of London's Big Ben, allowing everyone at the party to join the thousands of people awaiting the twelve rings of midnight. "Okay, people, you know the drill!"
"Ten…" the voices shouted.
Harry began pushing his way through the people, making his way to the bar.
"Nine…"
He elbowed left and right, earning some spilled champagne on his arm. But he just kept on going.
"Eight…"
Hermione stood at the bar, joining everyone in the countdown. It was instinct that made her turn around.
"Seven…"
"Hermione," Harry said, finally reaching her.
"Six…"
"Harry?" she asked breathlessly.
"Five…"
"I just want to-"
"Four…"
"Want to what?" She had a smile on her face.
"Three…"
"Well-"
"Two…"
"Don't worry, Harry. I know." She hooked her arms around his neck.
"One!"
And with cheers in the air, sparks flying from wands and the loud chimes of Big Ben, Harry and Hermione had their first kiss. Lips tasting each other, yearning to be closer than close. She tasted like champagne and it made Harry dizzy kissing her so passionately. They pulled away, breathless and already missing each other.
"I made that wish," Harry said, pulling her in for more.
The End
*
A/N: Thanks for the reviews, lovely readers! But most of all, thanks for the patience. Ideally, this story would have been released and done with on New Year's Day, but holidays being the holidays, I found myself caught up in other things. So whatever it was you were doing, I hope you all had a wonderful New Year!
-->