Well, this is my new fic. I had this idea a while ago, but never thought I'd actually write it properly. I was struck by inspiration today though so here's the first chapter. I don't know when the next update will be because I've got four essays in over the next two weeks. Maybe it was a bad idea to start a new story now. Oh well.

Oh, and if you like this, or even if you don't like it but you liked Friends Reunited or one of my other fics, why not follow me on twitter? I plan to post updates on how the writing's going, and my number of followers is pretty pathetic! Just search for ruthydoops.

That's enough of me for now, except to just provide a translation for any American readers. A cashpoint is an ATM. I'm not sure if you have "cashpoints" over there, so I just thought I'd say now!

Ok, here we go. Review if you like it, which I hope you will!

"So, last pub of the night," Harry announced loudly to his friends as he slammed a round of drinks onto the table, making them slosh all over his hands. He wiped them on his trousers and turned to Dean. "Have you had a good night?"

"Yeah," Dean hiccupped. "I feel much better about turning twenty-one now. You know, it's not that scary after all!"

Harry smiled at him. Dean had spent at least the past month dreading his birthday, which had made it very difficult for Harry, as it had been his turn to organise the celebrations. Whenever he'd talked to him about it, Dean had insisted that he wanted to stay inside and pretend it wasn't happening. Luckily, they'd managed to drag him out after convincing him they'd get him so drunk he wouldn't even remember what they were celebrating. He seemed to be well on his way to that point, swaying in his seat and laughing at everything.

"See? Didn't we tell you?" George laughed. "You don't feel any different to yesterday, do you?"

"Well, I feel more drunk than I did yesterday," Dean said, "but that's not a bad thing by any means! Hey Harry, do you know, you look like you've had an accident?"

"What?" Harry said, looking down at his lap. "Oh, that's where I spilled your drinks all over myself."

"Doesn't look like drink to me, mate," Seamus laughed.

"Well next time I won't be such a good friend and struggle back from the bar with all your drinks by myself," Harry joked. "You'll all have accidents yourselves if you carry on laughing like that."

"To be fair, it's pretty funny," Ron said, wiping his streaming eyes. "Or maybe I've had a few too many. I'll never understand how I can drink so much firewhiskey and be fine, and then a couple of pints, and I'm like this."

Harry rolled his eyes, and the others seemed to be holding back laughter. Ron was always hopeless at handling his drink, whatever it was. His birthday had ended with him being apparated home by a very tipsy Dean and the two of them passing out in his garden. Luckily, Harry was living with Dean now, as the only two single friends in their group, so he could keep an eye on where he went to sleep when they went home.

"Make sure I get to my bed tonight won't you Harry?" Dean asked, smirking at Ron.

"I was just thinking that! I will, don't you worry," Harry laughed. "You'll be asleep on the pavement otherwise."

"Can I crash at yours too if you don't mind?" Ron asked. "I don't think Lav'll be too happy if I go home in this state."

"Yeah, sure," Dean said. "We can transfigure the sofa for you again if you want. Or Harry can anyway!"

"Have you got room for me too?" George asked quietly. "Angelina doesn't like it when I drink and I've had more than I was planning on."

Harry and Dean looked at each other. They usually had a strict one guest at a time rule because their flat was so small. They could make an exception for George though. He and Angelina had got together because of their closeness to Fred, but it turned out that was all they really had in common, and it wasn't really enough to build their relationship on. Even though friends of both of them had tried to point out that maybe it wasn't working, they weren't having any of it and had stayed together for just over two years. The two of them got into huge rows almost daily though, and if they could stop just one of them, then that was a good reason for Harry and Dean to break their rule.

"Yeah, of course. You'll have to share a bed with Ron though I'm afraid," Harry said.

Ron pretended to make a disgusted face. "Pillow wall?" he asked.

"Definitely," George said, looking a bit happier. "And try not to snore tonight. You'll make the whole building shake!"

"Well, I'm going to go back to my missus tonight," Seamus said. "She's been on a girl's night out, so she'll be in the same state as me, and you know what that means!"

"Ugh, I don't want to think of you and Luna doing that, no offence," Harry laughed. "I can't even imagine her drunk to be honest! Is...is Ginny on this girl's night out by any chance?"

"We're not talking about her," Dean butted in. "You know the rules! No moping about ex-girlfriends! Seamus, get us another round? And bring us back some shots. We need to perk this one up!"

"I don't need perking up!" Harry said, folding his arms. "I was just wondering."

"If I clear this up and tell you, will you cheer up?" Ron asked.

"I don't need to cheer up. Honestly, I'm fine," Harry said. He was fine. Even though he and Ginny had had a huge row and she'd kicked him out of the Burrow and then got together with Michael Corner practically straight away, he didn't really have any ill-feeling toward her. He knew it was strange, but he couldn't find it in himself to get worked up over it. Maybe deep down he knew it was never going to work, or maybe he was just an Ice King, or whatever the male equivalent of an Ice Queen was, but he really didn't mind. What he did mind was when Ron and George kept feeling sorry for him.

"If you're sure," Ron said uncertainly.

"I am," Harry said. "I know it's weird, but I don't mind that your sister has got a new boyfriend. Let's just leave it and have a good rest of the night, yeah?"

Seamus came back and took great care not to wipe his hands on his trousers, looking pointedly and smirking at Harry as he did so. He laughed. He was so glad the four of them had stayed best friends since school ended; they'd practically been inseparable while they were there. Then Ron had brought George out one night because he thought it was time he started mixing with people again and they'd had a really good time. Since then, the five of them, plus Lavender, Luna and sometimes, but very rarely Angelina had all done nearly everything together. He looked around at the other groups of friends sitting in the pub and although he'd never say it out loud; it sounded far too cheesy, he thought that his group of friends was so much better than any of the others.

"Harry's staring at girls," Ron teased.

Harry came back to his senses and realised he's been staring at a group of three rather pretty girls: a blonde, and two brunettes, one with a sleek bob and one with long curly hair.

"Don't scare them, Harry," George laughed.

"Who's he looking at? Are any of them fit?" Seamus asked. "What?" he asked, laughing, "I'm looking on behalf of two of my best friends who need some nice girls."

"One of them's my dentist," Dean slurred, swinging himself around on his chair. "The one with the curly hair."

"She's very pretty, isn't she?" Harry asked.

"I guess she's ok," Dean shrugged. "I'm so scared of the dentist I've never really looked!"

"Ok," Seamus said. "So Harry's getting the curly haired one because he thinks she's pretty."

"Her name's Hermione," Dean butted in.

"Right, so Harry's getting Hermione."

"Wow, try saying that when you're drunk," George laughed.

"And who's Dean going to go for?" Seamus asked.

"None of them! Think of what would happen if it didn't work. She'd pull all my teeth out."

They all laughed. They knew Dean was scared of the dentist and anything to do with teeth. He was probably more scared of being checked out by the Medi-witches when they'd come back from their year of Horcrux hunting than he'd been when they'd actually been practically facing Voldemort.

"Fair enough. We know what you're like," George said.

"So that just leaves Harry and Her-mi-on-e," Ron said, slowing down her name so he could say it. "Go and talk to her!"

"And don't say her name like that," George teased.

"What?" Harry asked, shocked. "I'm not going to talk to her."

"Why not?" Seamus asked. "You like her, don't you?"

"I think she's pretty," Harry said, his cheeks turning red. "That's not the same thing."

"It kind of is," Dean said. "Come on! You get attention from girls all the time: you're the Boy Who Lived! Or the Man Who Lived now."

"You have no say in this, you wimp! I can't just go up and talk to her. And she's probably a muggle!"

"What's wrong with that? My dad was a muggle," Seamus said.

"And look how well that turned out," Harry muttered under his breath so Seamus wouldn't hear. "I can't talk to her."

"You know what?" Ron said with a smirk. "I think this is all because you're not over my sister."

Catching on to what Ron was doing, George nodded. "Yeah, that must be it. You don't want to talk to any other girls because you still love Ginny."

"That's not going to work," Harry said firmly.

"Well, that's ok. We understand. I mean, you insist you don't care, but we know you better than that."

"I don't still love your sister!"

"If only there was some way to prove it," Ron said, stroking his chin in an exaggerated way.

"Fine," Harry said, standing up. "I'll do it, just so you two stop pestering me."

Hermione was on her own at the bar, which Harry thanked all the Gods for. He would've hated to have to talk to her in front of her friends. That would've been embarrassing. He was swaying and stumbling slightly, and the walk to the bar seemed to be taking ages. He hoped he wouldn't drunkenly ramble on at her. Not that it mattered if he did, seeing as he didn't want it to go anywhere and he was only doing it to shut his so-called friends up. He put a hand up to his head. If he was rambling away in his mind, he had no hope.

"Hi," he said, finally reaching the bar. "Having a good night?"

She smiled at him, surely a sign that he was doing well so far.

"Yeah, I am thanks. I just came out with my friends to celebrate one of them getting promoted."

"Ah, cool. It's one of my friend's birthdays," he said, gesturing behind him at the area they were sitting in.

"Oh, how old is he?" she asked.

"Twenty-one," he replied.

"That's a scary birthday," she laughed. "My twenty-first was back in September. I'm not usually a big drinker, but I made an exception for that one night. It felt like the end of the world. Or at least the end of being young and carefree anyway!"

"Yeah, I think he's feeling a bit like that. Or he was, anyway. After a few drinks he seems to be feeling a lot happier about it."

She laughed again and with a polite 'excuse me' turned to pay the barman.

She really was very pretty, Harry thought. Her hair was gorgeous, and her eyes were deep and brown and set on pale, smooth skin. She didn't seem to be wearing a lot of makeup, which he liked; Ginny never did either. She had a really nice smile as well; her plump pink lips parting to show straight white teeth. Then he realised he was staring again, and that she was rummaging through her purse, getting a bit flustered.

"Are you ok?" he asked her.

"Yes, I just thought I had more money left on me than I actually do, and I forgot my card."

"I'll get these for you if you like," he smiled.

"Oh no, that's ok. I'll just nip to the cashpoint," she said

"I really don't mind," he said.

"I know you're being nice, but I never let people pay for me. Just ask those two," she said, pointing at her friends.

"If you're sure," he said.

"Yes thanks. If you could watch the drinks for a minute though until I get back, I'd really appreciate it."

She headed towards the door, and Harry turned away from her and ordered his own drinks. He hated to say it and prove his friends right, but he was glad he'd been forced to talk to her. She was really nice and friendly and she looked like a nice normal woman, which was a nice change from the skinny, hard-faced, blondes with cold, calculating eyes who usually chatted him up. Not that she was chatting him up though, but then maybe he should ask her out. She hadn't really been flirty, but then to him, flirty meant girls in short dresses pressing themselves up against him, and Hermione didn't really seem the type to do that.

"Hi, thanks for doing that," a voice behind him said.

"That's ok," he smiled, suddenly feeling very nervous. Should he ask her?

"I didn't realise Dean Thomas was your friend with the birthday," she said. "He waved to me just now, and we had a little chat. He's one of my patients."

Harry tried to keep himself calm. What was Dean playing at?

"I said I'd been talking to you, and he said about how you'd organised his birthday for him and how he was really glad he had a kind, thoughtful, handsome friend like you. I think he was a bit drunk," she laughed.

"Yeah, just a bit," Harry said, forcing himself to laugh along, even though he was mortified.

Hermione paid for her drinks and smiled at him.

"I suppose I'd better be getting back to my friends. They can't go too long without wine!"

"Yeah, I'd better get back to Dean and that lot I suppose. I need to keep them out of trouble!"

There was a pause.

"Do you want to meet for a drink here sometime, just the two of us?" she asked shyly.

He froze. Had she just asked him out? To think that he'd nearly wimped out of doing it!

"Yes, I'd love to," he said, smiling. "I'm glad you asked."

"Great, so if I give you my phone number, just give me a ring sometime and we'll work out a good time," she said, blushing slightly as she handed him a card. "So, I'll see you soon then?"

"Yeah," he said happily, "I'll give you a ring."

He turned and started walking back to his meddling friends, who were looking at him smugly. Maybe their meddling wasn't such a bad thing after all.