Lonely
Happy New Years, everybody. :)
A whole bunch of Hogwarts students actually rented a pub for that New Years. 22 year old Hermione Granger felt really out of place at a party full of completely inebriated, flat out smashed, drunken people. Why?
She was sober.
It was five minutes until New Years. She felt lonely.
Her eyes scanned the room.
There were multiple snogging couples. That didn't help her feeling of loneliness at all. She scowled at them briefly before moving on.
Harry was drunkenly making out with his equally inebriated girlfriend, Ginny Weasley. Given their current position in the relationship, (Their physical position was quite inappropriate.) she might even be Mrs. Ginny Potter soon.
Blaise Zabini, Luna Lovegood, Neville Longbottom, Ernie Macmillan, Terry Boot, Susan Bones, Theodore Nott, and a few others that Hermione couldn't name were all taking shots and belting out their New Years resolutions. Most were random and stupid, considering they were drunk.
Hermione still hadn't thought of a New Years resolution. She'd think of one later; it wasn't that hard.
There was a small game of strip poker going on in the far corner between two former Hufflepuffs, a former Ravenclaw, and a former Gryffindor in the back. Hermione knew them, but she didn't feel like putting names to their faces at the moment. Granted, she could barely see their faces from this far.
Ron, whom she had recently made up with after their somewhat messy break up, was also busy.
Their breakup during their seventh year at Hogwarts wasn't the cleanest. It started with lack of conversation. They had virtually nothing to discuss. Then they started spending less and less time with each other. It just ended in tears and lies when Hermione found Ron canoodling, almost kissing, even, Susan Bones of all people. It might have been just a short fling for the two, but it tore Ron and Hermione apart. One year later, they were friends again, but their breakup was a touchy subject still. Thank Merlin for Harry, ever the peacemaker.
Anyway, Ron was with his girlfriend of five weeks, Romilda Vane, and they were arguing. Of course, it wasn't that out of the ordinary. This was the longest relationship Ron has had since Hermione herself. His girlfriends never lasted long; he was a born bachelor. Hermione observed them boredly. They seemed to be arguing about... Hermione strained her ears. They were arguing about... Pansy Parkinson? She only caught snippets of their conversation.
"I thought... me!" Romilda yelled, albeit with a slur. "But now... snogging Parkinson... I... someone new... stick... bloody arse!" Hermione assumed that was their breakup then. Ron just belted back a profanity filled goodbye and stumbled off in the direction of Pansy Parkinson. Presumably to snog her once again. Hermione vaguely wondered how long that relationship would last.
Four minutes.
Hermione got up and poured herself a glass of butterbeer. It was slowly growing cold as everyone passed it for the firewhiskey and other alcoholic drinks.
"I'd say three weeks for the Weasel and the Pug's animal style love," a silky voice drawled lazily behind Hermione. She turned around to see... Draco Malfoy. "What say you, Gran—hiccup—ger?"
"Two weeks," she replied without making eye contact, maneuvering to a seat by the pub's window and sitting down. Draco followed her. "Just how drunk are you, Malfoy?" she asked offhandedly, but still rather curious.
"I read in a book that you can tell how drunk someone is by tasting their saliva. Wanna try that out, Granger?" he asked, flashing her a suggestive wink and a smirk.
Not quite tipsy, but not yet smashed, Hermione deduced, trusting in her knowledge enough to not think twice about it.
"I know that's not true, Malfoy," she snapped half heartedly.
Three minutes.
"Why the sad face, Gran-gy?" he asked, poking her cheek. Hermione swatted his hand away.
"I feel lonely." That was her short, sweet, and simple answer.
"The place is packed, Hermy-one," he said in a "duh" tone. Hermione sighed and stared up at the clear night sky. She subconsciously leaned onto Draco's shoulder, and he wrapped an arm around her petite waist.
"Huh?" was her startled reply when Draco pulled her closer. Well, she was cold, so she just stayed there.
"You feeling less lonely, Granger?" Draco teased.
Two minutes.
She snuggled up closer to his warmth. "A little, yes," she replied sincerely.
"Is the world going to end at midnight?" Draco asked suddenly. Hermione chuckled at his question.
"It's okay, Malfoy—"
"Draco," he interrupted.
"It's okay, Draco," she repeated. "The world won't end," Hermione finished with a smile.
Draco sighed ostentatiously and dramatically. "Thank Merlin!" Hermione smiled at his silly, drunken antics.
"Your smile's pretty," he blurted out, causing Hermione to blush and avert her gaze from him to the stars.
One minute.
"I mean it," he said firmly. Hermione looked back up at him. He was smiling. Radiant.
"You too," she whispered back with a heartwarming grin. She was feeling less lonely by the second. Were they getting closer? Maybe just one kiss for New Years, her lonely mind begged her. If he's drunk, he probably won't remember, her more rational side added.
Thirty seconds.
"Are you going to kiss me?" she asked rather breathlessly.
"Yes," Draco whispered, his warm breath tickling Hermione's face.
Twenty seconds.
"Are you feeling lonely anymore?" he asked, forehead pressed onto hers. He stared directly into her eyes. Hermione reached one of her hands to put it over his. She left it there and he didn't budge either.
Ten seconds.
"No," she breathed, leaning in a little closer. She could smell his cologne, like a fresh forest after a rain. His shampoo smelled like fresh soap, clean and new.
Five. Four.
Draco leaned closer to her. His eyes were the embodiment of a dark, stormy grey sky. Hermione didn't see a storm brewing in his eyes, but a prospect of a new, clearer day. Her eyes were warm. Draco could feel a soft, silky chocolate waterfall washing over him. Accepting him. Letting him in.
Three. Two.
Their lips brushed and a spark tingled between them.
One.
"Happy New Year," Draco muttered before closing the gap between the two of them. Hermione closed her eyes and relaxed into him.
It was a good one and a half minutes into the new year when they broke apart, smiling at each other.
"Well, Draco," Hermione began cheekily, "Your saliva tastes like you are perfectly sober, so now I know I'm not the only one." She grinned widely.
"Well, I think your kiss just intoxicated my brain, Hermione," he replied with a somewhat suggestive half smirk, half smile.
Hermione leaned back in. "Happy New Years," she muttered before kissing him again.
Her New Years resolution?
Don't feel lonely anymore. And her lovable, blonde ferret by the name of Draco Malfoy will help her with that.
