Countdown to Midnight

happy_daze

Rating: G
Genres: Romance
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 6
Published: 31/12/2006
Last Updated: 03/01/2007
Status: completed

It's a race against time as Harry strives to confess his feelings to Hermione before the year is over. Of course, obstacles have to get in the way...

Chapters

1. 3

2. 2

3. 1

1. 3

For auld lang syne, my dear,

For auld lang syne,

We'll take a cup of kindness yet,

For auld lang syne!

Auld Lang Syne, tradtional song by Rabbie Burns

*

His resolution had been to discover himself. He needed to analyze what was important to him. He needed to figure out exactly who he was and what purpose he now served, since role of The-Boy-Who-Lived and The Chosen One were quickly scratched off his list as being fulfilled. He needed to figure out how to live now that he could.

It wasn't a New Year's resolution, really. He hadn't made this promise to himself when the clock struck twelve on January first. Instead, he had made this silent vow the moment he had woken up in a hospital bed at St. Mungo's, the first faces he saw, Ron and Hermione, looking down on him . How relieved they all were that all three of them had survived everything. The end of Voldemort had signalled the beginning of their true lives.

Harry eyed the calendar stuck to the wall of the kitchen from his place at the table, a coffee mug steaming in front of him. Red circles and writings littered the hectic month that had been December, and now everyone found themselves fast approaching the end of the year.

Harry had never made a big deal out of New Year's Day. The first part of his life consisted of New Year's Days locked in his little cupboard under the stairs as he heard the Dursley family chant down the countdown and greeted only each other happily by laughing, kissing and clinking champagne glasses. How he longed, in those days, to have a taste of champagne only because Dudley was able to try it, and the glorious chocolate cake Aunt Petunia baked just for that day.

In Hogwarts, the celebrations were nothing out of the ordinary. Most of the time, Harry found himself and his friends just frantically attempting to finish homework that was assigned over the holidays but they decided to push to the last minute. New Year's Day was like a warning beacon signalling that their time of procrastination was rapidly ending and that they better get a move on in their assignments that they put off for the purpose of Christmas. It seemed only Hermione was capable of celebrating, but Harry had never seen her do so unless he and Ron were with her (which they usually weren't, so she helped them with their work instead).

And then there had been the New Year's Day during the time he, Ron and Hermione had been searching for Horcruxes. Harry had been sitting up all night, huddling in a sleeping bag, as he kept watch. He had not even realized it was a New Year until Ron's watch beeped in the night, causing Harry to whip out his wand but immediately settle it down as Hermione opened her eyes sleepily and wished Harry a Happy New Year. Ron had rolled over and grunted.

This year was going to be different. Harry was going to start it off the "right" way now that he finally had the chance to. Fred and George were throwing a huge party at their quarters in Diagon Alley and dozens of people were invited, including, it seemed, the whole of Gryffindor House from past and present. Harry was excited as he would be seeing everyone from Hogwarts and they would all be together again after, who knows how long.

Harry was also excited because this was going to be the night that he was going to confess his feelings for Hermione. He felt that he had been suppressing and keeping them to himself for long enough. What better way to let her know than New Year's? Right at the stroke of midnight with a kiss.

His resolution would be mostly fulfilled. Hermione was one, if not the, most important person in his life. His next step in life? It wouldn't really matter as long as she was in it with him.

*

2:27 PM

"Oh, Harry! I'm sorry I can't speak long. Things here are really hectic right now. Everyone wants to get the hell out of here for New Year's tonight," Hermione said, her head floating in the fireplace. Already Harry could see her appearance reflecting her words, for her hair looked frizzier than usual and she was speaking very fast.

"Sorry, Hermione! I just wanted to know when you'd be home tonight is all," Harry said. He watched as Hermione's eyes darted about, not looking at him but probably at a handful of papers that were in her hands at the office. Her brow was scrunched up. She appeared to not really be listening. Harry coughed. "Erm... and what time you'll be heading over to Fred and George's?" he asked, his voice a little louder.

Her gaze snapped up to him. "Fred and George's?-- Oh right! That's tonight... well, I was considering on heading there around eight or nine--"

"Great! Want me to pick you up? We can go together or something..." Harry said, trying to sound nonchalant about the entire thing.

Something in Hermione's eyes flickered and Harry could have sworn he had seen that look before. "Oh, Harry, I--"

"HERMIONE! You have the Minister of Law Enforcement on the other floo! It's an emergency!"

Hermione was cut short as an urgent shout came from her end of the floo. Her eyes bulged as she went into work overdrive once more. "Oh no! I thought I told Hilda to hand in those reports to him two weeks ago!" Harry felt his heart begin to deflate. "Harry, I really have to let you go now. I'm so sorry! How about I just... meet you tonight at Fred and George's, okay? I'll see you there!" And with a soft pop, her head disappeared and Harry was left grumbling.

He had pretty much, sort of, kind of, asked Hermione out on a date with him to Fred and George's party (even though she had no idea that that was his intention), but work had to invade and leave him with no definite answer. He sighed heavily, getting up from his spot in front of the fireplace. At least she had said that they would meet up at the party.

"Helloooo! Anybody there?" a voice announced from the floo, causing Harry to jump in surprise, knocking his toe into the table. He cursed quite a storm.

"Oi! Hermione would go spare hearing that language from your mouth," a familiar, red-headed friend said with a smile on his face. "And I wouldn't be very happy if you damaged my table in the living room there..."

"Oh sod off, Ron," Harry said jokingly. "Your precious table is fine!"

"Good," Ron said approvingly, making a show of trying to look at it and inspect it for himself. "Anyway, I was just wondering when you were going to come down to Fred and George's to help us the party! We might grab a bite to eat or something. Hermione couldn't make it, she's swamped with work."

Harry nodded. "Yeah, I just finished talking with her before you flooed. The Ministry sure works her to the bone," he said sympathetically.

"They do, or that could just be Hermione, knowing her," Ron joked. "But this is why Fred and George's tonight is going to be amazing! It feels like ages since we've had a real party with all our friends and not some overstuffed celebration for the Ministry."

"Hmm, yeah. I do think that the masquerade held in my honour was a bit much..."

"It didn't even fall on a significant date! They just used you as an excuse to have another lavish affair or something." Ron rolled his eyes and Harry laughed. "So see you soon then? Meet up at The Leaky Cauldron?"

Harry nodded. "Yep. I'll be there soon."

"See you later!" With that, Ron's head disappeared.

You can talk to Hermione later, his mind reassured him.

*

4:03 PM

"How many disco balls do you plan on having, anyway?" Ron asked his twin brothers incredulously.

"Until everyone is blind," Fred answered matter-of-factly. "Can't get enough of dancing lights while we dance!"

"The place looks great, though," Ginny said, looking around the once completely empty room that was now fit for a New Year's party and resembling something close to a bar/nightclub.

"There's no more room for the other Firewhiskey bottles at the bar," Harry said, as he joined everyone standing in the middle of the would-be dance floor.

"Are you a wizard or not, Harry, my good fellow?" George said, his voice coming out of a box he was busy digging through, possibly looking for another disco ball.

"Oh... right," Harry said sheepishly, shrinking the crate of Firewhiskey, small enough to be comfortably tucked away at the bar.

"So are we all done here?" Ron asked, his stomach choosing that very moment to rumble. "Say, is there going to be any food at this party?"

"Just some hors d'oeuvres trays floating about. Not much though. Food only gets in the way of the pleasant feelings of alcohol!" Fred smiled mischievously.

"Yeah. I suggest you get dinner now, otherwise you'll be liquored up in no time with an empty stomach," George said. "Unless of couse, that's what you want..."

Ron seemed to be contemplating the options of eating or getting drunk fast. "I think I'll just eat something now," he said, giving in to his stomach (like always).

"Before you go!" Fred announced. "Time to show you lot our masterpiece--"

"Produced for this special occasion! And perhaps to be on the market for next year," George added as a sidenote.

"Now imagine this. Everyone in this room is chanting the countdown to midnight--"

"Signalling the start of a New Year! Full of fresh starts and opportunities!" Harry felt himself being drawn into this thought.

"Suddenly, BAM! It's twelve! And what happens at twelve?"

"You kiss someone!"

"And if you're not kissing someone?"

SLAP!

SLAP!

SLAP!

"OW!" Harry, Ron and Ginny chorused.

"You get a hard, invisible smack in the arse, for being a bloody arse and not kissing someone at midnight," Fred finished, smiling approvingly as Harry, Ron and Ginny rubbed their bottoms. "What do you think?"

"Would people actually buy this?" Ron asked. "Merlin, I think you bruised something!"

"All in good fun, brother. All in good fun!"

*

4:49 PM

Harry and Ginny watched in disgust as Ron lapped at the pea soup The Leaky Cauldron was famous for... but not in a good way. He stopped slurping to give them a shrug. "I was craving The Leaky Cauldron's pea soup..."

"Their soup's horrible, Ron!" Ginny exclaimed. Ron shrugged again. Ginny pushed her basket of fish and chips slightly farther away. She shifted slightly in her seat, resulting in a wince. "Ooow, my arse is still sore from Fred and George's ruddy... thing."

Harry and Ron agreed. "Looks like we better have someone to kiss tonight or... I don't want to think what'll happen if I get smacked that hard again. It might dislodge something..." Ron said, shuddering at the thought.

"Well, I don't have to worry. I have Neville as my date tonight!" Ginny glowed happily, perhaps at the thought of Neville, or the thought of not getting her bottom thoroughly abused. "Well, I should be going. I said I would meet him before the party!"

"It's not even five!" Ron said, exasperated, but Ginny did not hear him. She threw some money onto the table for her share and practically pranced out the doors. "Girls..." Ron mumbled, taking a final slurp from his pea soup and starting in on Ginny's unfinished fish and chips. "Does it bother you?" he asked suddenly after some quiet munching.

Harry was startled at the question. "No," he answered honestly. "Why would it?"

Ron shrugged. "I dunno. You and Gin used to be something, right?"

"Used to," Harry emphasized. "And it was great... but it didn't work out. Not with all the... stuff that went on."

Ron nodded. "So who are you bringing tonight?"

Harry coughed a bit on his drink. "Erm... no one really. I was just going to meet up with everyone there."

"But who are you going kiss at midnight? Don't tell me you're going to take another blow to your arse!"

Harry rolled his eyes, but also felt a blush creeping up his cheeks. Nobody knew about his intentions with Hermione and hopefully getting together with her that evening. Nobody knew that he even fancied her!

Well, maybe at least Ron should know... his mind rationalized.

"I... I was thinking of... Hermione," he said, slowly and deliberately as he munched on one of his chips.

Ron gaped. "You fancy Hermione?" he exclaimed.

"Er... yeah." He blinked. "You don't have a problem with that, do you?" he asked frantically, as he remembered Ron and Hermione's stormy relationship after sixth year.

"No! No, I don't! Don't worry, mate!" Ron quickly reassured him. "Hermione's had, what, three other blokes after me, hasn't she?" he scoffed. "I just didn't know you fancied her! It's like it just came out of the blue!"

"Well, I've mainly kept it to myself, really," Harry explained. "I was hoping tonight would be--"

"But Harry!" Ron cut in urgently. "Hermione has a date tonight!"

The words that came out of Ron Weasley's mouth were processed in very slow motion. Harry's mind simply did not comprehend it.

"Bu--whaa?" he said weakly.

"Yeah, mate," Ron answered him sympathetically. "She told me when I flooed her at work today."

Harry blinked several times to clear his head.

"Hermione's going with Dean Thomas."

-->

2. 2

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.

-->

3. 1

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!

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