The glitzy gold party dress was not Hermione's usual style, but it wasn't every day you rang in a new millennium. So she strapped shiny heeled shoes to her feet and clasped jeweled barrettes in her curls, gave herself an appraising look in the mirror, then apparated out of her flat.
Earlier that month, she had received an invitation by owl from a swanky, new hotel in London cordially inviting her to attend their grand opening the 31 of December for a New Year's countdown soiree.
Harry and a very round Ginny were contentedly staying home while Ron was currently sailing across the Atlantic with his new girlfriend to her home in New York City, so Hermione promptly sent her RSVP. She now arrived unescorted.
She found herself in a ritzy lobby area. A few other guests popped in beside her as a set of french doors opened on their own accord. They led to a ballroom full of guests. The first thing Hermione noticed was a mirrored clock face that reached from floor to ceiling, taking up the entire wall, counting down the last remaining time of the year.
Many familiar faces appeared. Luna sat happily by the pianist, tinkering the keys of his black baby grand. Several former classmates, including Dean and Seamus, danced beneath enchanted fireworks. Kingsley Shackelbolt and Horace Slughorn chatted over h'orderves, and leaning elegantly against the bar was a dapper looking Draco Malfoy.
He wore a silver suit with tails and a black bowtie. His hair was shorter than it had been during their school days, and was parted neatly on the side. He was chatting with the barman, but his head slightly in her direction as if he had felt her gaze.
Not keen on being caught staring, Hermione turned quickly away slipped deeper into the crowd. She plucked a flute of champagne off a hovering tray just to busy her hands. It felt strange to be there alone, without Harry or Ron, not in a bad way, just in a new, unfamiliar way. Lost in thought as indulged in the bubbly drink, she did not notice her former nemesis approach.
"Good evening, Granger," said a voice from behind her.
Startled, she composed herself and merely looked over her shoulder to nod politely. "Draco."
"I'm surprised you are here tonight."
"Well, I was invited," she replied cooly, keeping her back to him.
"Undoubtedly, since it was invitation only."
Snarky as ever, she thought, somewhat amused. Hermione no longer loathed Draco Malfoy, nor did the rest of the wizarding world. He was just another victim of war. His parents had left the country and rumors were that he was trying to forge his own way in the world. His name was often splashed across the Prophet.
Speaking of, Rita Skeeter and her photographer companion stalked the room, no doubt writing a scathing review of what Hermione thought to be a lovely and promising establishment.
"I can't believe they let her in," Hermione thought out loud.
"Well, you know what they say, all publicity is good publicity."
Draco had come to stand beside her, holding his own champagne flute. He drained it, and Hermione watched as it refilled itself from the bottom up. Classy. No wonder she was feeling a little fluid, having not noticed she was sipping an endless drink.
Jazzy music filled the room as a band queued up on stage. Luna was now gliding around the shimmering dance floor with, was that Blaise Zabini? Hermione looked down accusingly at her champagne as if it had once again tricked her. Shrugging, she sipped some more, unsure of how she'd managed to find herself in this strange place with only Draco Malfoy as company.
"Where are your sidekicks?" he asked in what was almost a playful tone. He seemed in a jubilant mood.
Hermione, who was now eyeing the slowly revolving table of decadent desserts, a mint green sorbet in particular, almost didn't catch his question.
"What? Oh, they are, well they're celebrating with others tonight." she replied, happy to find no bitterness in her voice.
Draco, who had followed her gaze, silently summoned the crystal dish of sorbet. It bobbed gracefully through the sea of dancing pairs and landed lightly in his waiting palm. He presented it to her, and Hermione felt the redness creep up her cheeks, for her craving had been so obvious. She thanked him as he took her endless champagne flute to hold and she took a bite, hoping it would cool the flush in her face.
"What do you think of this place?" Draco asked, gesturing their surroundings.
Hermione popped the expensive silver spoon from her mouth. "Actually, I quite adore it. There's a rich, but not pretentious quality and also, it has an old fashioned grandeur while at the same time feeling modern and, well, millennial. It's quite unique."
"Spectacular," he said, oddly pleased. "That's exactly what I was going for."
The cold lump of sorbet nearly caught in Hermione's throat. "This.. This is your hotel?"
"Mine indeed, Granger."
"So, you-" Her sentence was cut short.
"Mr. Malfoy, sir, a picture please, for the Daily Prophet? We need it to accompany the article. You and your date, if we may?" The old wizard held up his camera hopefully as Hermione backed away in a panic.
"Of course," Draco beamed, pulling Hermione back into frame. She barely composed her face before a bright flash rendered her momentarily blind. The photographer thanked and congratulated Draco before leaving.
"Have you gone mental? What was that about? That picture will be plastered all over the front page!" Hermione fretted.
Draco only gave a sly smirk. "I was very pleased you accepted my invitation tonight, Granger, as I couldn't exactly host my own grand opening sans date, let alone ring in the new millennium solo."
At that moment the music cut off and the band leader amplified his voice via wand to announce the one minute notice to countdown. The hands on the mirrored clock glowed electric blue, illuminating each dot as it moved by the second. Draco took Hermione's hand replaced in it her champagne flute, which was full once again, then raised own.
"To new beginnings," he toasted.
Draco smiled, a real genuine smile, and Hermione was surprised feel herself smiling, too.
"10, 9, 8, 7," the crowd bellowed.
"Cheers," he said, as they clinked their glasses together before drinking.
"3, 2, 1! Happy New Year!"
Silver and gold balloons appeared, floating upward toward the enchanted firework ceiling. Sparkling confetti rained down upon them. Poppers popped and people cheered, and Draco leaned in and kissed Hermione's cheek.
"Happy New Year, Granger."