A/N: Hey guys. I reckon you all are wondering why it took ages for me to update. I've been rather busy with school and trying to get myself into college so I really didn't have much time to write for the past months. I really apologize for not updating soon enough. But anyway, I think this chapter is going to be long so I hope it makes up for the wait. Now, I can't guarantee that this is going to be quality work since I've been on a break from writing for six months so it might take a while before I get my groove back. Again I apologize for the delay and I really hope you guys enjoy reading this.

CHAPTER 6: Hermione Granger – Party Planner Extraordinaire

This is not happening. Please, tell me this is not taking place in real life. I am desperately begging someone, anyone, to tell me that this is just some practical joke. PLEASE! I slowly open my eyes wishing that the letter has vanished but it's still there, on top of my desk, written in silver ink on dark green paper. I start reading it for the umpteenth time, hoping that I only misread the information before. To my dismay, it still says the same exact words.

Dear Mia,

I need a favor. Please plan the company's New Year's Eve party. There is no budget limit so you pretty much have the freedom to do whatever you want. Go all out. I know you won't disappoint the company and me as well.

Draco Malfoy

P.S. I know about Pansy's drink. Nice one. I never would have expected such a tactic from you. You certainly are full of surprises.

Just wait till we get to the bedroom and I'll show you what surprise really means. Hermione Granger! Are you even aware of what you are saying? Stop this silliness right this instant! Draco Malfoy just asked you to plan a gathering for three hundred people. The last thing that should be on your mind is shagging him rotten! Focus Hermione. Come on. Think!

Theories on why the boss's fiancé wants me to plan the party.

1. He is obviously off his rocker and is in desperate need of psychiatric help
2. He wants a repeat of the scene that Pansy caused during the victory party at the Manor (Or possibly something worse. Oh my God! He knows about the drink? But how? That bartender! Merlin, as much as I hate alcohol, I could use a drink right now).
3. He is the owner of the company therefore he has the power to order anyone he wants to order around (He didn't even give me the option of choosing if I want to plan the party or not! He just basically told me to do it. Why that bossy, arrogant, domineering prat of a Slytherin! But hmm…come to think of it, I've always liked masculine dominance especially in the bedr…NOT THE POINT! I said stop thinking about this already didn't I? Ugh. I annoy myself sometimes).
4. He did not like last year's New Year's Eve celebration.
5. He wants to be fair so he's giving everyone the chance to be the party planner.
6. He wants to make this year's experience a complete and utter disaster for everyone. (In that case, he picked the right person for the job alright).
7. I haven't a flipping clue.

I think I'll go with the first and last ones because they both seem rational.

What in the bloody world am I supposed to do now, then? I can't even plan a nice dinner for three people let alone three hundred! Right. Now don't panic. Just be calm. Deep breaths, Hermione. That's it, just relax. Inhale and exhale. Okay this isn't working. I've been huffing and puffing like a pregnant woman in labor but it is not calming me down. I think I need a sedative!

I slump on my chair thinking of what do next and then, suddenly, I hear a light bulb on top of my head go "ding!" I've got it! I will simply write back and tell him that I refuse to plan the party because…because…

As I think of a good lie, no scratch that. As I think of a good reason for my letter of refusal, a voice suddenly replaces the Wireless Wizarding Network Radio Station that we always have playing in the background.

"Attention Posh Employees: The editor's very own junior assistant will be planning this year's company party. So, if you have any special requests, comments, or suggestions, please let her know soon before she makes the final decisions."

F word. I mean Fanbloodytastic. I hate to burst anyone's bubble but vulgar and profane words are not part of my vocabulary, thanks very much. Anyway, NEVER work for a magazine company or any sort of publication if you don't want your life publicized. I just got the bleeding letter from Draco this morning and now the entire office knows that I'm going to plan this year's party. What's next? Are they going to announce what kind of knickers I wear over the intercom too? Geez, I hope not. Mind you, they're a very nice pair.

"Oh my God Mia, congratulations! You know it's every Posh employee's dream to plan New Year's Eve," Jennifer says before sitting behind her desk across mine.

Every Posh employee's dream? I'm a Posh employee and it has never ever crossed my mind to even fantasize about thinking of dreaming to plan some totally pointless gathering where you eat delicious hors de oeuvres, dance like a crazed lunatic to a some famous DJ's mix or a really snazzy band, and drink loads of good quality, not to mention highly-priced champagne served by gorgeous looking waiters. Honestly, who in their right mind would dream about planning such an event?

"So where are you planning on holding the party?" she asks me curiously.

"Uh…I was thinking the staff dining area?" I say stupidly.

Jennifer looks at me as If I just answered her question with the most idiotic reply anyone can come up with. What? Don't companies hold their parties at the dining area all the time? Where there's enough space for everyone?

"You must be joking. The staff dining area? Mia, there's a reason why the company gives you a budget to plan this. Last year, we had it at Chanterelle, this really posh French restaurant in the upper end of Diagon Alley. It was absolutely fab. And the waiters with their French accents were to die for," says Jen enthusiastically.

"Wow, French waiters. They're gorgeous aren't they? I met one in Paris when I went on my annual holiday in France this past summer. His name was Alexandre," I say with a dreamy expression on my face.

"You've actually BEEN to France?" Jennifer asks.

"Yes, since I was little. I go every year."

She looks stunned. I want to laugh. Out loud. But I'm not going to.

"Anyway Jenn, do you know who planned the party last year?" I inquire.

"Silly Mia, I did! So if you need any help, I'll be more than happy to oblige."

She planned it? So I guess theory #4 has a high possibility of being accurate. Hurrah! I wonder if it's normal to feel incredibly brilliant because I do.

"Oh, oh um…of course. Yes, I won't hesitate to ask if I experience some difficulties," I reply politely with a fake smile plastered on my face. Hang on, if you have a fake smile does that still make you polite? Never mind.

I retrieve some parchment and a pen from my drawer and start writing my letter to Draco.

Dear Mr. Malfoy,

I regret to inform you that I will not be able to plan the New Year's Eve celebration. May I suggest Jennifer Saunders? She was in charge of it last year, so I could imagine she has immense knowledge on how to make this event an enjoyable and certainly memorable one.

Sincerely,
Mia McAllister

That should do it. I press a buzzer on my desk to call a messenger who would take my note down at the owlery.

"Rush delivery please," I say to the young man.

"Certainly Madam," he replies before disapparating.

Now that is over and done with, I could finally relax. Pansy's in Muggle London in a meeting with Oscar de la Renta so I'm pretty much free to do whatever I want until she gets back and decides to fulfill her duties of being the unbearable boss. Not really looking forward to her return.

As I flip through my planner, a huge stack of papers magically appears in front of me. What in the world…where did these come from and most importantly what are they for? I picked up and read the topmost paper.

The boys from Shipping would like to let you know that we are not huge fans of French Food. And a special request, please don't make this a black tie event. We don't do formals.

Okay, I think I know what these papers are for. But, how can everyone write so quickly in a span of five minutes? Unbelievable.

"Looks like you could use a paper shredder," says Jenn. Why can't she leave me alone? Is it so hard for her to mind her own business for at least five minutes?

"No thanks Jenn. I think I'll browse through these for some ideas," I say.

"Are you kidding? Mia, trust me, it's going to be a complete waste of time. Employees write a load of bollocks on there like they hate lobster tails, they're allergic to wine, or they don't like going to formal events. Word of advice, shred them and decide on your own," she says while examining her French-manicured nails.

Let's get things straight here. I don't like lobster, I try to avoid wine as much as possible, and I absolutely loathe formals. In fact, a lot of people don't like these fancy shmanzy, social-climber sorts of things because a lot of people are not wannabe socialites! Newsflash, the world population does not only consist of YOU so please shut up. Ha, that'll put her on her rightful place. If only I said everything out loud! And NO, I am not being a coward. I am just simply not interested in participating in arguments unless of course if it is a heated intellectual debate about elves' rights, or politics or something.

"Suit yourself then."

Yes I will suit myself. Who does she think she is anyway? The Party Planning Police?

I begin thumbing through the two hundred-some pages when the messenger turns up in front of my desk and hands me a note.

No, Mia. If you refuse I would let Pansy in on a little secret about the "Pellegrino" she drank at the Manor.

P.S. Stop being properly English and call me Draco. NOT Mr. Malfoy. I am not that old.

CRAAAP!!!

This is outright blackmailing! I should've expected this. Once a Slytherin, always a Slytherin. Ugghhh! I stand up, mobile at hand and head to the loo. I need to call Ginny.

"Mione that's great!" she exclaims on the phone. That's it, I'm crossing Ginny out of my friends list.

"Great? What's so great about it? I can't do this, Gin. I just can't," I say as I close the door of the stall and sit on the toilet. "Hang on, there's someone on the other line."

"Okay, I'll hold," says Ginny.

"Hello."

"Miss McAllister," says an all too familiar voice. OH MY GOD. "Have you decided whether or not you're going to plan New Year's eve?"

"How did you get my number?" I ask intrigued. Okay, I really don't care how he got my number because I nearly fell out of the U-bend in my excitement when I heard his voice.

"I called you using Pansy's mobile last time. I just happened to remember your number is all," he says.

"Can you hold on for just a second, somebody's on the other line."

I know I shouldn't keep him waiting but…but…aaahh!

"Ginny, he's on the other line. I am freaking out."

"Just say yes and I'll help you figure it all out when you get home," she says reassuringly as if everything would be okay.

"You better," I say before swapping the calls.

"Hi, I'm so sorry Mr. Mal-I mean Draco," I say apologetically.

"Quite alright. I'm not interrupting anything am I?" he asks.

"No, no, I'm not busy," I say as I stand up and then I immediately feel my face grow hot when I hear the toilet flushing by itself. Shit! I forgot we had the automatic flushers. Oh God, oh my God, OH MY GOD. I'm panicking. My heart is going to beat of my chest. I want to die. Now. Before Draco can even say anything.

"Are you sure?" he asks. Too late now. I can feel that he's smiling while talking to me and trying hard not to laugh for the sake of being polite.

"Uh..uhm..yeah,I'm sure."

If this is not the most embarrassing experience I have ever had, I don't know what is. I don't think I'll be able to face him again. Curse the man, or woman who invented these bloody toilets with bloody sensors on them. Bloody damn hell! Oh no, did I just cuss?

"Listen Draco, Iwillplanthepartybutihavetogonowgoodbye," I hear myself say quickly.

"Just owl or ring my mobile if you need any help. Well..Um…goodbye then."

I can't believe that just happened. I will NEVER pop into the loo to make a phone call ever again. Goodness, I feel this insatiable need to go Myrtle here and flood this bathroom. Too bad I left my wand in my purse. Hm…I should do it while Pansy's in here. Oh wait, she's got her own bathroom. Who knows though, maybe I'll get lucky one day.

"Mia, where have you been?" Jennifer asks when I return to my desk.

"The loos, why?"

"Pansy's been asking for you."

"She's here?" I ask my eyes widening in shock. "For how long?"

"Almost ten minutes. Now get in there," she says, practically shoving me towards the door. I think I know what I'm going to see when I open it. Pansy will be standing beside her desk, hands on her hips, tapping her…let's see today's Monday ah, it's Gucci day, so she's going to be tapping her Gucci shoes. I knock three times and wait for her to say "come in." And when she granted me access I see her…sitting on her chair behind the desk? What? Since when did this ever happen?

"Ah, there you are, have a seat please," Pansy says.

What is going on? Oh no, is she going to interrogate me about that drink? Oh please oh please PLEASE no.

"Draco just called me."

F word! F word! F word!

"He told me, that you-

Here it comes.

"That you are going to be planning New Year's Eve," she finishes.

"Yes, yes I am. Unless you want someone else to do it of course," I reply feeling relieved.

"No, no, no, no. It's not that. I just wanted to give you some suggestions or requests rather."

Suggestions? Requests? Instead of orders? Who is this woman and what has she done to my boss?

"Um…sure Pansy, go ahead."

"Okay, first of all, no classical music. Last year Jennifer hired a symphony to play. Not that there's anything wrong with classical music but I want to celebrate the New Year with a bang this time around and I don't think Mozart is the way to go," Pansy states.

"No to classical music it is then," I reply. Am I actually sensing some humor in this woman?

"Second, no seafood. I'm deathly allergic to them. Aw alright you could have some but make sure there is something else for me to eat. Are you writing this all down? Here," she says as she hands me a piece of paper and a pen.

"Okay, food needs to be varied and you are allergic to seafood," I say out loud while writing.

"This is the last one and don't you dare tell Mr. Malfoy about this. Make sure that the waiters are gorgeous looking," she says with a glint of mischief in her eyes.

"I am way ahead of you on that one. Will that be all?" I ask.

"Yes. Now, out of my office."

I stand up and walk out of her office and when I close the door behind me, I sigh in relief. She doesn't know about the drink. Draco kept the secret. I could kiss him! I really wish I could. NO YOU DON'T! Stop saying ridiculous things!

"Everything alright Mia?"

"Yes, everything's fine Jennifer."

Instead of apparating back to the flat, I decide to take a walk down Diagon Alley in search of the perfect place since the Staff Dining Room is basically x-ed out of the probable list of venues. I still don't see what's so wrong about holding it there. I mean it's very accessible, it wouldn't be hard to decorate…and…and…hold that thought. I spy something gorgeous looking bending down to pick up something oh my goodness Hermione, avert your eyes from that part of the male anatomy! I can't. He has a very nice…um…bottom. He stands up and turns around brushing away his dark hair from his tanned face and flashes me a smile.

"Buona sera," he says before placing the napkin he just picked up from under the table on a serving tray. Mmm…Italian.

"Good evening to you too," I reply. I look around and find myself in front of a nice Italian place with an outdoor dining area. I pull out a pad of paper from my purse and write down the name, Fellini's. Fellini's, I like saying it already.

"Ciao," I say to the hot waiter as I wave my hand.

"Ciao bella," he responds with a wink. Keep it together Hermione. At least after you are out of his view. Oh my goodness, I think I need a paper bag to regain regular breathing. I'm hyperventilating here! I better apparate back home before my behaviour gets out of hand.

"Ginny, are you home?" I ask as soon as I arrive at the flat.

"Yes, I'm in the kitchen!"

Word of advice if you're planning to share a flat with a friend: make sure he or she knows how to cook because I guarantee you, they will always, ALWAYS prepare something for you to eat. That, and your refrigerator will always be stocked up with yummy stuff. With Gin living here, there is no need for Pizza delivery or Chinese takeaway.

"Hey Gin, what's for supper?"

"Greek Chicken and vegetables."

What did I tell you about eatables in this place? Honestly, it is better than ordering room service in a five star hotel!

Ginny places a plate in front of me and sits down across the table.

"So, how's the party planning going?" she asks.

"Let's see, I've got three days. There's not budget limit. And most important of all, I have no clue what I'm going to do," I reply before taking a bite. Delicious. Maybe I'll look for a Greek restaurant too. Or better yet, I'll just have Ginny cater the whole event!

"You know Gin, have you ever thought about entering the food business? You know…like opening a restaurant or something?"

"Very funny, Mione. No, I won't be interested in catering your company's New Year's Eve party."

"How did you know I was thinking about that?"

"Lucky guess," she answers with a shrug. "How about we talk about it after we eat? Does that sound good?"

"Mmmhmmphay," I nod while chewing. I really do blame Ronald Weasley for my poor manners on the dining table.

"Draco Malfoy heard the toilet flush while you were talking to him on your mobile?" asks Ginny before bursting into a fit of hysterical laughter.

"It is not a laughing matter, Ginevra Weasley! And besides, you're supposed to make me feel better, not make me feel like a complete loser."

"I'm sorry Mione," she apologizes. "But you have to admit, it was a funny experience. Embarrassing yes, but funny. Alright so what have you got so far?"

"Nothing," I answer. "All I have is a huge stack of papers full of suggestions from employees." I take out my wand and mutter "Accio suggestions" and the pile appears on the coffee table of our living room.

"Wow," exclaims Ginny. "Okay, let's start from the beginning then. You're going to need (1)a venue large enough to accommodate everyone (2) music, preferably lively since it's the New Year (3) good food and wine (4) a dance floor and (5) money. But you've got number five covered so don't write that down."

"I haven't chosen a venue yet Ginny. I passed by several restaurants at Diagon Alley and some look promising; especially Fellini's," I tell her.

"Fellini's! That place would be perfect."

"You've BEEN to Fellini's?" Oh lord, I'm starting to sound like Jennifer.

"Of course. It's Harry's favourite Italian restaurant. It looks small from the outside but they've actually got a ballroom in there if you want to have a large party. The food is fantastic and their wines come directly from Italy," Ginny says excitedly. "Oh and…don't tell Harry I said this, but they've got extremely gorgeous waiters. Every time we would go there, I have to keep my mouth closed to prevent myself from drooling."

"Ginny!" I say trying to sound angry before giggling. "Now I know what I have to tell Harry if I'm pissed off with you," I joke. "Oh this is fantastic. Fellini's is actually on top of my list!"

In fact, it's the only one on my list but she doesn't have to know that. YESSS!! Italian waiters! dances around merrily

"Right. Now let's move on to music," she declares.

"Oh, special request from the boss, no classical."

"Who on earth would play classical music on New Year's Eve?" she asks incredulously.

"I don't know. Surgeons perhaps or musicians who are devoted to the study of classics? Maybe bitter, suicidal people or loonies who think they are either Mozart, Beethoven, Haydn, Tchaikovsky, Bach…etcetera, etcetera, etcetera?"

"Good point. But it's a definite no-no for your party. Posh is the hippest magazine in the wizarding world so you need hip acts. I say we choose among the Weird Sisters, Celestina Warbeck, The Demented, and George Jordan."

"George Jordan! George Jordan! George flipping Jordan!!!" I squeal in delight.

"Calm down. I know how much you love Georgy because of his resemblance to Josh Groban but he's in the States on a tour. Celestina is a bit too operatic and we don't want champagne glasses breaking while she's singing. I say choose between the Weird Sisters and The Demented. Personally, I would go for WS because The Demented is too indie."

"Weird Sisters definitely. By the way, do you happen to know how to contact them?"

"Just send them an owl and tell them all about Posh and I'm pretty sure they'll say yes. Okay, so I think we have everything covered since Fellini's will take care of the rest of your needs. Make a reservation first thing tomorrow, alright?"

"Wait, that's it?" I ask, obviously puzzled.

"Yes, Mione. Start writing that letter to the Sisters and send Hedwig. Harry left her here this morning because she was getting bored at his house," she says before going to her bedroom.

It's that simple? I was actually stressing out over something extremely easy? There I was thinking this would be more complex than rocket science and all I have to do is make reservations and write letters to people? I can do this. I've actually become an expert when it comes to dealing with people since I worked for Pansy so this is going to be a piece of cake.

Did I say a piece of cake? Yes I recall saying something along the lines of that. It is a piece of cake alright. A giganormous slab of a pastry to be exact. It's seven in the morning and I'm at Fellini's talking to their receptionist and she tells me that their ballroom has been booked by the Daily Prophet for their New Year's Eve party.

"I'm sorry ma'am but The Prophet made a reservation yesterday. You just missed by a day. I could refer you to other places if you like," she says.

"Look, I'll double, even triple what the Prophet's payment is. In fact, just name the price and I'll give you the money as long as you host Posh's party. Please," I say desperately.

"Would you like to talk to the owner? Maybe you can negotiate with him."

"Yes, please, that would be wonderful."

Think Hermione, think! It would be a lot easier if I actually had coffee. I was in such a rush to get here that I forgot to drink my morning coffee…a.k.a. the most important drink of the day. I need another light bulb over my head, and I need it now.

Ding! YES! I knew it would light up soon. I fish for my mobile and quickly dial Draco's number.

"Hello?"

Oh god, he even sounds sexy as soon as he wakes up. No. Stop thinking that. Stop it. STOP IIITTT!!

"Hi. I am so very sorry to wake you up but I need your help."

"Mia? It's seven a.m." he says groggily.

"Yes I am well aware of the time but listen, I've found a great venue for the party but the Daily Prophet has already made reservations here. Can you please, please, PLEASE talk to the owner? I'm sure you'll be able to negotiate with him," I plead. "Hang on, he's coming."

"Ah, what can I dooo for youuu?" Asks a burly old man with a sweet face while holding out his hand.

I shake it politely and smile at him. "Mr. Fellini I presume?"

"Yes, yes I ama Signore Fellini!"

"It's nice to meet you. My boss would like to talk to you."

"Ah si, si, si, of course."

"Draco, here's Mr. Fellini."

I hand my mobile to him and listen to the conversation. Well… I am listening but I can't understand a word. Hang on, does Draco know how to speak Italian?

After a few minutes, Mr. Fellini gives me back the phone and tells me that Draco wants to speak to me.

"Mia here."

"It's all taken care of," Draco says.

"What?"

"I said, it's all taken care of. I'm good friends with Mr. Fellini and oddly enough with the editor of the Prophet so I told him I'll call Robbins and tell him to book at another place. By the way, I'll give the money to Fellini so don't worry about it."

"Wow…um, thank you. Thank you very much."

"No problem. Is that all?"

"Yes…for now at least."

"Okay bye then."

"Wait!" It's now or never Hermione. "Um…do you speak Italian?" I ask.

What? I'm sure YOU would like to know too.

"Fluentemente."

Mama Mia, my knees are getting wobbly. I mustn't think of him speaking that language. Oh why did I even ask? Now all I would be thinking about is how sexy it would sound if he utters Italian phrases during…NEVERMIND. It's not important.

"I'll talk to you later," Draco says before finally hanging up.

"You likeah that man don you?" Mr. Fellini suddenly asks me.

"NO. No, no, no, no, no sir I most certainly do not," I answer.

Liar! Hermione Granger you are a liar.

"Oh…tha's too bad. Him an you will make pretty couple. Signore Malfoy is a good man an hansome too don you think?"

"Um, I have to go Mr. Fellini. It was nice meeting you and thank you very much for letting us have our party here at your place," I say while shaking his hand.

"Arrividerci!" he bids farewell as I walk out of the door. And as it closed behind me, I feel my cheeks turning slightly pink from what he just said. It's quite flattering to hear that from a total stranger. Mia Malfoy…I love the sound of it already. Hermione Malfoy, gah! That sounds even better. Aw, alright fine. I'll shut up about it.

I walk towards the Posh building and say hi to Mike, our security guard.

"Morning Mike!"

"Mornin'. This came in for you," he says as he hands me an envelope.

"Thank you. I better head up before Pansy gets here."

"Oh of course. Have a great day."

"You too, Mike."

I quickly tear the letter open as I get into the lift.

We would be delighted to perform at your party. As for payment, we can talk about it after the show's done.

-The Sisters WEIRD

P.S. We have a subscription of your magazine. It's absolutely fantastic!

I will not scream. Nor jump. I would simply smile. Smile from ear to ear because the WEIRD SISTERS ARE GOING TO PLAY DURING OUR PARTY! MY party, actually. I am planning it, aren't I? Oh, who am I kidding? There's no one else on this lift so I might as well. I think I watched Elf too much during Christmas that's why I'm jumping up and down inside the lift. There, that's much better. Hurrah! I hate to admit it, but I'm actually liking this assignment.

MEMORANDUM

TO: All Posh employees

DATE: 12/29

FROM: Mia

RE: New Year's Eve Party

Posh's annual celebration to welcome the New Year is going to be held on the 31st of December at Fellini's which is located here in Diagon Alley right across Chanterelle. We will of course have the countdown and everyone is welcome to stay until you've decided that you already had too much to drink. And, to answer the question that you all are probably waiting for to be answered, the attire for this event is semi-formal.

If you have any comments, suggestions, complaints, or any other form of feedback, please don't hesitate to owl me or simply stop by my desk to see if there is something I can do.

The party starts at seven o' clock p.m. I hope to see all of you there!

ATTACHMENTS: Directions and a map to Fellini's.

"Please make sure everyone gets a copy of this," I say to the guys at the Printers. "Thanks very much and see you at the party."

I, Hermione Granger, am absolutely "brilliant." Well…at least in Colin Creevey's opinion. I went down to the Photography department yesterday to ask if he could put a television screen inside Fellini's then place a camera that overlooks Big Ben so that we could use it as a reference for time keeping and he said yes! We are actually on our way to the restaurant so I can supervise his work and finalize the menu for the party. Oh I wish, I wish, I wish Mr. Italiano is there today.

"Mia, does Draco Malfoy know that you're REALLY Hermione Granger?" Colin asks as we walk.

"No. I think I failed to mention it to him because I was scared of getting fired. I need this job Colin," I explain calmly.

"I understand. But I think you should tell him who you really are. It's better that he knows. He trusts you doesn't he? I mean if he didn't he wouldn't request you to plan this party. Don't you think you owe him the truth?"

I continue walking beside him feeling dumbfounded. Maybe I should tell Draco that I really am Hermione Granger. Oh God, now I've lost the festive mood. We're actually here and Mr. Italiano is opening the door for us and my heart isn't even skipping a beat! Why did Colin have to talk to me about my two identities? WHY?

Mmmmphhhh!! Who set my bloody alarm clock at…four in the morning? FOUR A.M.? Even the roosters that crow in the morning are still dreaming! Who in their right state of mind would wake up this early on a Friday? Shoot…I set it. It's New Year's Eve. I've got fifteen hours until the party starts. I'm actually not going to the office today. One of the perks of being the planner is skipping work on December 31st. Anyway, I need to start excavating my wardrobe to find something decent to wear tonight. And then…I'm off to Fellini's again for last minute finishing touches.

"Hermione, did you set my alarm at four?" Ginny asks sleepily as she enters my bedroom and lies face down on my bed.

"Yes indeed I did. I need you to come with me to Fellini's so you could help me decorate. Come on, you're the one with lots of creativity! Plus, you're very good at Charms. Please, Gin?" I say in my persuasive voice.

She groans and rolls over.

"And what exactly do I get for doing this?" she asks.

"A giganormous hug from your best friend?" I say as I hug her.

"Wrong answer."

"Hmm…how about five items from Mia's wardrobe?"

She smiles. I know her too well.

"Seven."

"You've got yourself a deal then, soon-to-be Mrs. Potter."

"Shut up, Hermione. Have you picked an outfit for tonight yet?"

"Nope, that's why you're here my dear. You get to give me a makeover," I say.

She sits right up and looks at me.

"Why didn't you say so earlier? Let's go, you're wasting valuable time, Hermione!"

I lie back down on my pillows and laugh out loud. This is going to be such a great day. I can feel it deep within my bones.

New Year's Resolution number one: DON'T TRUST OWN INSTINCTS because they are far from being accurate. Take today for example; I felt that this day was going to be great. It is great. Great to brew a New Year's Eve disaster.

"What do you mean they're not coming?" I ask panic-stricken. "I've booked them to perform days ago and they said yes! Do they want to get paid before they sing because I can do that if they want it that way."

"It's not the money. The Sisters love Posh. They don't care if they don't get paid as long as they perform for the company. But the thing is, they got tied up in Australia where it is already new year because of the time zone difference and they can't leave because the people who hired them simply won't let them go," explains the man who claims to be the Weird Sisters' manager.

Unbloodybelievable. The equipment is already set up. You can't have an act with just instruments and no one to play them! Unless of course if the act you've chosen to play are The Invisibles.

"What am I supposed to do now then?" I ask.

"You mean you don't have a back-up act?"

Am I supposed to have a back-up plan? Honestly, they should have a manual of some sort on how to plan these things. The last thing I want to happen is to die of stress.

"Listen Miss, I'll try getting them over here. I'm not promising anything, but I will try," the manager says.

"Thank you," I say before allowing him to walk away.

A waiter passes by me and offers me a drink.

"Would you like some champagne madam?" he asks.

I…better not. I can't handle my liquor very well and I know for a fact that the consequences aren't going to be pretty.

"No, thank you. I don't drink," I say politely.

On second thought, it's only 6:30. One glass can't hurt can it? And besides it's been a while since I last had a drink. I promise myself, just one for the entire night. Just one. I tap the waiter's shoulder and grab a glass when he turns around.

"I changed my mind," I smile before taking a sip. My God, where has this been all my life? ONE GLASS for the entire night Hermione. ONE.

As I finish drinking my first and last glass of champagne, I nearly scream in shock when my mobile starts ringing.

"Hello," I say.

"Whoa, everything alright? You sound nervous."

"Draco! No I'm not nervous. Everything's going…everything's going absolutely fine," I lie.

"Great, great. Listen, I'm going to be a little late. But I'll be at the party before midnight. If Pansy looks for me, tell her I'm on my way."

"Sure, no problem. Where are you anyway?" I ask. Crap. "I…I'm sorry. It's not my business. Forget that I asked."

"No need to apologize. And I'm not going to tell you anyway. It's kind of private."

And then I hear it. A woman's voice. Oh my God! Is he…is he…cheating? I feel myself gasp silently. This is so scandalous. If he's having an affair with someone, it should be with me! I am Pansy's assistant after all. Isn't that the traditional extramarital affair?

"Can we go play now," says a voice in the background.

Oh my God, that's a child's voice! What is Draco Malfoy up to? A Lovechild?!!

"Listen Mia, I gotta go. Oh and by the way, I am looking forward to see the Weird Sisters. I'm a huge fan you know and I'm really glad you got them to come to our party."

"The Weird Sisters? Oh, yeah, amazing band. They're going to be coming in soon. Actually they just got here. They are um…setting up their equipment so they could uh…warm up."

"I can't wait. I'll see you then," Draco says before hanging up.

Okay so I lied a little. Fine, I lied a lot but what else was I supposed to do? Draco's lying too. Tell Pansy that he's on his way when he's really spending time with his mistress and child out of wedlock, I mean he's much more of a liar than I am! The nerve of him trying to use me to lie for him. Okay if I use lie in a sentence again, I would scream. There, much better.

"Oh waiter!" I say while waving my hand. He hurries up towards me and hands me another glass. "Gratzi."

I know I said I'm just having one but I also made a new resolution to never promise myself that I would do something for sure because it's very likely that I would change my mind just like I did a moment ago. And besides, I've also decided to limit my consumption of alcohol to five glasses of wine for tonight. I'll be fine. Drinking socially cannot cause any harm.

Oww…my head is throbbing. I feel like it's going to split open from all the hammering I'm feeling. I get up silently and find Ginny sitting on the edge of my bed watching me.

"So…" she starts.

"So what?" I ask, feeling rather irritated.

"How did it go?" she asks.

"How did WHAT go?"

"Very funny Hermione. How was the party? You know, the grand ballroom at Fellini's, The Weird Sisters, the food and wine, the hot Italian wai- Mione, are you alright?"

"I can't remember a thing Ginny!" I say, my voice filled with panic.

"What? Why not? You didn't even drink that much. Or at least I think you didn't drink that much. You've always hated the so-called 'vile drink'"

"I don't remember that either."

"Just relax Mione. Here, these were dropped by owls this morning. I think they're letters from your co-workers," Ginny says before handing me several envelopes. I open the one on top and read:

The boys from Shipping would like to thank you for a wonderful party. And because of what happened, we've decided to start our own band. We're going to call ourselves, the Shipping Boys. Or The Boys from Shipping. We haven't really decided what name to use yet but I assure you, when we reach the top, you would be fully credited for our success. Once again, we would like to say thank you.

"What does it say?" Ginny inquired curiously.

"Um…they're thanking me for a wonderful party and that they're starting a band."

Ginny becomes silent. I guess I'm not the only one who doesn't get the meaning of the note. What are they talking about? Starting a band because of my party? Argh! My headache is getting worse.

My dahling Mia,

I must congratulate you for the lovely affair you've planned. I've never had so much fun since…EVER! The waiters were very, very delectable especially when they all got wet from the champagne. Btw, I loved your outfit. It looks like you're developing your own sense of style now, which I've been expecting. What can I say, you learned from the best.

Kiss,kiss,

Benjie

Okay, I remember the delectable waiters but when did they get wet? And what champagne? I think that the sight of an Italian man with his white shirt clinging to his body is something I will not easily forget. Are people still drunk while writing these letters to me?

"Uh…that one's only a thank you note," I lie to Ginny before opening the next letter.

Mia,

I would like to let you know that our editor is currently at St. Mungo's, recovering from food poisoning. According to the healers, she's deathly allergic to shellfish and she has consumed a plateful of stuffed clams. But there's nothing to worry about. She'll be back in the office on Monday.

P.S. I had a really wonderful time. The band was awesome. Who were they anyway? The Boy Shipping Crew?

-Jenn

"Oh my god, Pansy's in the hospital!" I say.

"Why are you so scared then? Shouldn't you be happy that she's lying on a hospital bed?"

"Ginny, she ate Vongole Ripiene!"

"What's wrong with that? It's really good."

"She's allergic to seafood. She told me specifically to have something other than seafood at the party. And my stupid idiotic self forgot to check if they prepared the menu I ordered correctly. Oh god, I'm going to get sacked for sure. I nearly killed the editor of Posh!"

"Calm down Hermione. It can't be that bad. I mean you don't know for sure if Pansy will fire you."

"Gin, I'd like to be alone for a while. Please," I say.

"Sure Mione. Whatever you want. Um…in case you get hungry, I've made some tomato soup. It's on the stove so just heat it up."

"Thanks Gin."

As soon as she gets out of the door, I lie back on my bed, place a pillow on my face and scream. I am a dead woman.

As I walk to work, I begin thinking of arguments that I can use to defend myself from the wrath of Pansy. I've been thinking about what so say since I got that note from Jenn. So far, I've come up with…nothing. It's not like she's going to give me another chance to work for her after almost killing her. Say goodbye to your dreams of being the Daily Prophet editor Hermione.

"Hey Mia!" Mike says enthusiastically when I arrive in front of the Posh building.

"Hey Mike. How's it going?"

"Great. Listen, I gotta tell you, the party was awesome."

Yeah so I've heard.

"Well I'm glad you had a great time. I'll see you later then," I say.

"Wait! Is there something going on between you and Mr. Malfoy?" he asks curiously.

"No. Why?"

"Well…you kissed him at the party and I was just wondering if you know…you two are going out," he says.

I what? I did no such thing. I would remember if I kissed Draco. I would…OH MY GOD! I did kiss him.

"Uh…I assure you there's nothing going on between us. If you will excuse me, I've got some work to do," I say politely before turning away from our security guard.

I get into the lift and once it starts going up, I press the emergency button. It's all coming back to me now.

By the time the party started, I already had four glasses of champagne. I was feeling rather tipsy when my co-workers arrived. They all marveled at the decorations and everyone thought it was brilliant to have a telescreen showing Big Ben. Everyone started drinking and when Pansy got there, I told her that Draco was on his way.

"How did you know he's coming?" she asked me.

"Uh…he owled me and told me to tell you not to worry. He'll be here before midnight."

"Very well. I like what you've done to this place Mia. I think Draco made the right decision of choosing you to plan this party."

"Um…thank you Panhic! oh excuse me. I mean thank you Pansy."

So my boss and I had a really civil conversation and then everyone started to mingle. There was an open bar in the ballroom and naturally, everyone flocked to get their free drinks. A few hours later, people were starting to act well…drunk.

"Hey, isn't there supposed to be a band here?" asked one of the guys from the Layout department. I froze. I didn't know what to say to them. And then I heard it. Someone was banging the drum set. Another person picked up the guitar and another, the bass. It was Harold and the boys from Shipping. By this time, I couldn't care less how much I drink so I went to the bar and ordered a fire whiskey. Oh boy was that the best drink ever invented. And then all of a sudden, the noise I was hearing started to sound really good. Everybody started dancing around. I was having a really good time when people started to crowd around someone who was writhing on the ground. I quickly approach the scene and saw Pansy twitching on the floor. I was momentarily transported back to reality and I started to freak out.

"Somebody help her. She needs to be taken to the hospital! Somebody call St. Mungo's!!!" I yell. Nobody wanted to help because they were all too drunk so Mr. Italiano offered to take Pansy to St. Mungo's.

"I'll go with you," I said.

"No, you can't leave. From what my father told me, you're the one who planned this party."

"That's right I did. Who's your father?" I asked him.

"I'm Antonio Fellini," he replied.

"Oh! Oh, I see. Well alright. I'll stay. You better hurry up and get her to the hospital. It looks like she's not going to make it," I said while looking at Pansy whom he was carrying in his arms. Yes I got irritated about that. I would've loved to be the one in Antonio's arms. So they left and everyone returned to the dance floor where another disaster was yet to take place.

I saw Mindy from Fashion throw the contents of her wine to Gilbert of Marketing when she saw him dancing close with Elaine from Entertainment. And then Mindy and Elaine started to pull each other's hair. I stood there laughing. I mean these were two adult witches pulling one another's hair. I thought that was only a muggle thing. I guess this is why employees are not allowed to date people in the same workplace. Gilbert who was obviously drunk at that time, grabbed a bottle of Merlot that a waiter was carrying on a tray and poured it all over Mindy.

"You bastard! You've ruined my Chanel dress! This is an Haute Couture dress! Do you know how much I paid for this?!" screamed Mindy.

"I don't care if it cost you your entire savings. I told you we're over Mindy. I'm with Elaine now," Gilbert said.

Mindy looked at Elaine up and down and then took the glass of red wine that one of the bystanders were holding and spilled it all over her white dress.

"You're really asking for it aren't you?" Elaine asked.

"Bring it on!" threatened Mindy.

I thought it was pretty lame that they were pouring wine on each other. Trust employees to take advantage of their drinking privileges. Sheesh. Italian wines are not cheap you know. I was really bored so I started approaching them to break up the "Throw the most expensive wine at each other" fight but they conjured their wands so I stopped and watched again. FINALLY! I thought to myself. It was definitely more like it. However, before they could even send sparks flying to each other, I started to feel something wet falling on me. In fact, the entire place started to get wet. Art, who oddly enough was our Art director, muttered a spell that caused a rain shower of champagne inside the ball room.

"That'll take care of you bastards!" he said, sounding overly drunk. "Now shutthebloodyell up and listen to the bloody band! Bleeding bastards you all are."

Everyone was momentarily distracted and then Harold and the Shipping boys started to play a tune that got everyone dancing. It looked really fun out on the dance floor so I started to dance while walking there.

"I'm a bleeding genius!" I heard Art yelling. I thought so too. A Martini rain! Why didn't I think of that?

"Mia, this party is brilliant," Jennifer told me while we were dancing. I said thank you and then looked at the telescreen. It was five minutes until midnight. But since nobody seemed to care, I continued dancing. The Shipping boys or whatever they called themselves that night were really good.

"It's a minute until midnight!" Harold said on stage. "Are you ready to welcome the New Year?" he asked.

"Yeah!" chorused the Posh staff.

"I can't hear you. I said are you ready to welcome the New Year????" he repeated.

"Yeah!!!" yelled everyone, myself included. We all watched the clock and when it was down to twenty seconds until twelve, we all started the countdown.

"20, 19, 18, 17, 16, 15, 14, 13, 12, 11, 10, 9," and then the counting became louder as we got closer and closer.

"8, 7, 6, 5, 4"

This time I stopped when somebody tapped my shoulder. I turned around and there was Draco. Dripping wet in Martini. God he looked shaggable. He opened his mouth to say something but when the countdown finished, I grabbed his face and kissed him. Oh Merlin he kissed well. And the fact that he tasted like Martini just drove me insane. His lips were so soft I wanted to stay lip locked with him forever. But alas, I needed to breathe and so did he so we pulled away from each other.

"Happy New Year Mia," he said huskily. I felt his hands around my waist. He must have placed them there when I started kissing him.

"I…I…" I stammered. I kissed my boss's fiancé. On the mouth. And I actually liked it. In fact I liked it very much. And it wasn't necessarily helpful that I felt him kissing me back. He was about to say something but I quickly pulled away from his arms and ran to the loo. And then the last thing I remember was waking up with a headache and no recollection of what happened the night before.

Oh my God. I kissed Draco Malfoy. I FLIPPING KISSED PANSY'S HUSBAND TO BE. I really am going to get fired today. Damn it. From now on, I'm going back to my three basic drink groups: water, coffee, and tea. Well actually, it's four including butterbeer. Ugh. No more alcohol for Hermione! I pressed the button again and I feel my heart hammering as the lift starts to ascend. I wonder if I will find another job. What if Pansy calls all the companies and tells them that I'm a no good. Oh no, the lift door is opening. I can see Pansy's door from here. Is she here already? I hope not. Lord, help me!!

I walk towards my desk and find Jennifer sitting behind hers.

"Hey Mia. Excellent party. That Martini rain really did the trick for me. By the way, Pansy would like to speak to you."

"She does?"

"Yeah but come inside after about ten minutes. I think she's on the mobile with Mr. Malfoy."

"Oh…okay."

This can't be happening. He's probably telling her that I mindlessly snogged him during the party. But I was drunk! I didn't know what I was doing. I wouldn't have kissed him if I wasn't intoxicated.

I retrieve a piece of parchment and start writing a letter.

Draco,

I would like to apologize for my behaviour the other night. I was very drunk and I didn't know what I was doing. I hope what happened doesn't change anything between us. I'm really sorry about the party as well. I really wanted to make it perfect but obviously, it turned out to be a disaster. Please accept my apology.

-Mia

I call the messenger again and tell him "express delivery." When I hear pansy say goodbye to Draco on the phone, I stand up and knock at her door.

"Come in," she says.

I enter and close the door behind me. I approach her and before I know it, I hear myself talking nonstop.

"ListenPansy, beforeyoufireme, Iwouldliketosaysorryforwhathappened. Ishould'vecheckedthemenuandmadesurethereweredishesotherthanseafood. Ididn'tmeanfor anyofittohappen. PleasebelievemeI'mtellingthetruth. I-"

"Mia, are you even breathing? Tell me, why would I fire you?" she asks.

What? She's not going to fire me?

"You're not? But…but…-

"Have a seat Mia."

I sit quietly and look at her intently. Why does she want to talk to me then?

"Okay, I know I had an allergy attack after eating…what was it called again…the stuffed clams?"

"Vongole Ripiene," I replied.

"Yes that's the one. But the thing is, it wasn't your fault nor anybody else's but mine. There were other safe foods on the buffet table but the clams looked so enticing and I told myself I would eat just one for the night. I did eat one but it tasted so good that I had to have more. If it weren't for you, I wouldn't have discovered how good seafood tastes."

"What about your allergies?" I ask.

"My healers at St. Mungo's gave me some type of medication so if ever I have an attack, I could stop it from getting worse," she replies.

"So um…you could eat seafood now?"

"Yes. In fact I had fish for supper yesterday."

"Well I'm glad you can enjoy it now. Is there something else you would like to talk about?"

"No. You may return to your desk. Great job planning New Year's Eve by the way. It seems like everyone had a lot fun, especially Mr. Malfoy."

"Uhm…alright then. Just call me if you need anything."

Yes! I am not getting sacked! I feel a huge Hermione dance coming on. Inside my head that is. My, that was a close call.

I emerge from Pansy's office feeling more relieved than I have ever felt in my entire life. But as soon as I close the door, I see Draco coming out of the lift.

"I'll be right back Jenn," I say before walking towards him. It's better that he knows I was drunk before he starts thinking that I have a thing for him. Well I really do but he doesn't need to know about that because he's getting married in a couple of months. As I get closer to him, I notice that he's holding the letter I sent to him. I grab his arm and pull him inside the lift.

"We need to talk," I say as we get in. When the lift starts to descend, I press the emergency button.

"Listen Draco. I was drunk that night. I didn't know what I was doing. And I'm really sorry that I kissed you. It was a mistake that will never happen again. I promise," I say.

"No need to apologize. I know you were drunk. And besides, isn't it a New Year tradition to kiss the person next to or in front of you. Don't stress yourself about it," he says coolly.

God he smells so absofreakinglutely good. Smelling him and standing next to him reminds me of that kiss. Was he really just faking it because if he was I would like know how he kisses for real. Stop Hermione. You don't want to know. YOU NEVER WOULD WANT TO KNOW EVER! Start drilling that into your head for your own sake.

He presses the button and the lift starts to go down.

Awkward silence.

The door opens and several people get in. Draco stands behind me to make room for them. I can feel his warmth radiating through all his clothes. God, why must he stand so close to me? I feel like dying. This is torture!!!

The lift stops on the 10th floor and everyone start to move out including him. He allows everyone to go first and when it was just him and I inside the lift, he says,

"Just to let you know, and I mean this in a totally platonic way, you're a great kisser. Have a happy new year Mia." And then he gets out of the lift.

The door closes and I press 20 to return to my floor.

"Just to let you know, and I mean this in a totally platonic way, you're a great kisser"

Oh my god, how am I supposed to face him and act like a normal person after what he said to me? I mean how would you face Draco Malfoy if he told you're a great kisser? See? Damn him! But I have to be honest to myself. I really did like kissing him. Too bad he's engaged. And too bad I am not the person he really thinks I am. I think I'm going to tell him about me but not right now. I should make it my New Year's resolution to let him know that I'm Hermione Granger. Colin's right. He trusts me. And because of that, he's entitled to know the truth.

The elevator stops on the twentieth floor and when the door opens, I was taken aback when I see almost the entire Posh staff standing there. Apparently, they've been waiting for me to return. Harold comes forward and hands me a bouquet.

"In behalf of the staff, we would like to thank you for throwing the best New Year's Eve party in the history of this company."

Everyone starts applauding and they all started to say "Speech! Speech! Speech!"

"Nothing would've been possible if it weren't for your suggestions," I start saying. "You made it easier for me to plan our celebration and I'm really glad that you all had a wonderful time. Happy New Year!"

They start applauding again and then a majority of the girls approach me to tell me that they've got dates with the Italian waiters from Fellini's. Lucky them. I wish I could go out on a date with a hot Italian man. Oh well…one can only hope. I might stop by Fellini's later and say hi to Antonio.

"Alright everyone, back to work," says Pansy who was standing right behind Jennifer.

I walk towards my desk and sit down. Wow, I think I can add something to my resume now. For talents and other abilities, I shall put…Party Planner Extraordinaire.

END OF CHAPTER

A/N: 23 pages on Word! Wow, this has got to be the longest chapter I have ever written. Anyways, what did you guys think? Do you forgive me for not updating for months?

Don't forget to review, or flame, or whatever you feel like doing. And if you have any suggestions, please feel free to share them with me.

P.S. To those who offered to beta my work, if you haven't changed your mind yet, please touch base with me so I can let you know how I'm doing with the updates and all that stuff.

Happy New Year everyone!