"Rue, don't cancel on them," Klaus groaned, watching from the couch as I paced back and forth in the front hall of Chilverton Elms. "You told them you would go–for Merlin's sake, they're your best mates!"
I sighed as his hands clamped down on my shoulders, effectively stopping my anxious pacing.
"I don't want to go out, though! I'm tired, I'm an old soul! It's already past my bedtime."
Klaus rolled his eyes, "Alright, Mum. C'mon. It's the last day of 1999–tomorrow is the start of a brand new millennium! I will not allow you to be the only person in the world not celebrating this momentous occasion."
I wriggled out of my brother's grasp.
"Plus, you already have a room at the Leaky Cauldron for the night," Anna chimed in.
"Now, go put on your big girl dress, put your face on, and let's get you to London!"
I glanced at Anna who only nodded in agreement. I looked back at Klaus. Back at Anna. Back at Klaus.
"Fine!" I huffed, throwing my arms up in defeat and stomping up the staircase to my room.
"Oh, Rue, you look beautiful!" Anna gushed as I descended the staircase wearing a short, glittery navy dress with tights and a pair of heels. I had somehow managed to tame the wavy auburn mess I like to call my hair, and even "put my face on," as Klaus insisted. Men were so ignorant of make-up.
As I pulled my coat on, I tried my best to ignore Anna's continued raving. Klaus gave me a thumbs-up.
"Bye," I said shortly, apparating to Diagon Alley. I dumped my travel bag at the room I had reserved earlier in the week before setting out. We had all agreed to meet at Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes. Realistically, I was only ten minutes late as I approached the door in the light snow. I was about to knock when it swung open to reveal George.
"There she is!" he beckoned me inside. "We were starting to worry about you!"
Rose smiled warmly, "I wagered you wouldn't show, you old stick in the mud."
"I had faith in you!" Fiona interjected.
They had since apologized for the incidence last time we went to The Leaky Cauldron. Since Fiona and Rose were my best friends, I forgave them. After all, it wasn't entirely their fault that Wood happened to be there at the same exact time we were.
"So, where to?" I asked hopefully, clapping my gloved hands together.
"Well, dinner first–we're already late, no thanks to you," George snapped, but there was a playful twinkle in his eye. "We're meeting some people for dinner first, and then winging it from there."
We trudged through the light dusting of snow towards Lena Fado's, a restaurant that had opened where Fortesque's once was. George held the door open for us as Rose, Fiona and I filed inside.
"Can't believe you made us late," George muttered as I passed him. I rolled my eyes and elbowed him in the stomach.
"Have you booked?" a woman, who I assumed to be Lena Fado, asked from behind the desk.
"Yes, should be under Weasley. Two of our party were probably just seated." George supplied.
She nodded, muttering something before gesturing that we should follow her. I was about to step forward when a hand wrapped around my arm.
"Now, Rue," George started quietly.
I glanced curiously up at him. George's hand dropped to the small of my back and he urged me forward, following Lena Fado, Rose, and Fiona.
"You have to promise not to get angry and lash out, alright? But I'm doing this as a favour. You can ignore him completely for all I care, but please don't be unpleasant. It's a new year, new start. Please?"
"Who are you–"
My eyes landed on the table Lena had stopped at. Already seated were Angelina Johnson and Oliver Wood. Fiona glanced nervously back at me, noticing that I had frozen on the spot.
George squeezed my hand before pushing past me. "Angie!" he boomed, pulling her into a hug. He shook Wood's hand before sitting next to Angelina.
I gathered my wits, as best I could, and approached the seat open for me. Of course, that seat was next to Oliver. The glare I shot at Fiona and Rose would've killed them if glares could. I gracefully (or so I hoped) shrugged out of my coat, hung it on the back of my chair with my small purse, and sat down, pulling the napkin into my lap. I gave Oliver a brief nod.
Despite what everyone seemed to think, I could be civil.
"Hi, Angelina," I smiled.
"Well, hey there, Miss Von Straussburg. Been awhile, hasn't it? You look great!"
"She does, doesn't she?" George cooed mockingly. Rose and Fiona laughed.
"She does," a soft voice said next to me. I don't know that anyone else heard it, so I opened the menu to block my reddening face from view.
After ordering a round of drinks and our meals, Angelina took charge of conversation, much to my relief. I kept my hands folded in my lap.
"So, what's America like, Rue?"
"Are the streets paved with gold?" George jumped in.
I shrugged, laughing, "I wish. But, ah, it's alright. Can't find a good cuppa anywhere, though, and I get stopped by everyone and people ask me to repeat the strangest things."
Angelina raised an eyebrow.
"The accent," Rose supplied.
"Precisely. I also have occasionally been threatened by my neighbors–they get raging drunk at Quadpot games and come back screaming 'U-S-A, U-S-A!' at the top of their lungs and then pound my door at 2 in the morning saying they're gonna throw me in the harbour with the tea."
"Quadpot," George scoffed. "Such plebs, those Americans. Play a real game, y'all."
Angelina smiled, "Yeah, George was telling me about you coworker...Tina? Tori? The Southern one!"
"Toni, yeah, she's a laugh."
"Did she teach you how to speak in a Southern accent?" Fiona asked. Everyone laughed.
"Like Scarlett O'Hara?" Rose added.
I raised an eyebrow, and the table got quiet.
"From Gone With the Wind–it's a muggle movie. I–look, you can't tell me you haven't heard of it, Rue, Lara said you two went to muggle cinemas together all the time!"
"I...okay," Rose finally trailed off. The waiter set our respective drinks in front of us before hurrying away.
"So what have you been up to, Angelina?" Fiona asked.
I glanced around the table, thankful conversation was no longer directed at me. My eyes settled briefly on Oliver, but he didn't look up. Something terribly interesting must have been at the bottom of his glass.
I thought I would be angrier with him, but for some reason what anger I did feel was more like a soft, underlying buzz. I doubted that was only because George asked me to play nice tonight.
By the end of dinner, we had decided to head to the Leaky Cauldron which, according to the couple at the table next to ours, had a live band tonight. I slipped back into my coat, smiling at Angelina as George helped her into hers. I adjusted the strap of my purse over my shoulder and turned, only to come face-to-chest with a black wool coat.
"Sorry," I muttered, side-stepping out of his way. I quickly followed Rose and Fiona out of Lena Fado's, our arms linked, as George, Angelina, and Oliver fell in step behind us.
The Leaky Cauldron was loud with music, people shouting over music, and a lot of final, 1999 toasts.
"Five minutes!" Someone shouted, and the pub erupted into cheers. We had been seated at a high table for at least three hours, and many old classmates had filtered in and out of the Leaky Cauldron during that time. George and Angelina had gotten rather cozy. Wood had loosened up a bit and was actually being somewhat pleasant, albeit awkward. Fiona, Rose, and I were busy retelling some of our Hogwarts antics.
A sudden idea hit me, and I slipped away. I pushed through clusters of witches and wizards to the counter and asked Tom for a round of Firewhiskey shots for our table.
"Actually, could I get an extra shot with that, Tom?"
He nodded.
Tom placed seven glasses on a small tray for me, which I gingerly lifted. I was just figuring out the safest route back to the table when Oliver approached me. My eyes dropped to the tray.
"Let me help you with that," he said softly.
I don't know why, but I felt so small.
I bit my lip, "Alright."
He took it from me and guided me back along the wall and to our table. He handed the tray back to me just as we arrived at the table, and I set it down once Fiona and Rose had cleared the way.
"What's the occasion?" Angelina shouted over the pounding music.
George seemed rather more interested in whatever his mind had decided transpired between Oliver and me at the counter.
"This," I said, gesturing to the shots of golden liquid, "is in honor of a very special someone who isn't with us here tonight."
Everyone else looked at me curiously, but a look of understanding and sadness washed over George's face.
"Fred was the younger brother I never had and always wanted, and I couldn't even dream up a better partner-in-crime, and I'm so terribly sorry I wasn't there..." I trailed off, my voice growing tight and raspy. George had come around the table to me and pulled me to his side. "I miss him more than anything," George whispered in my ear. "Thank you, Rue." He lifted a shot glass, "To Fred!"
"To Fred!" we all echoed.
Once we slammed our glasses back down to the table, a "Two minutes!" echoed throughout the room.
George gave me a slobbery kiss on the cheek, "Rue-Rue, I know Fred would want me to split his shot with you, won't you do me the honour?"
Rose passed me the last shot of Firewhiskey.
"How are we doing this?" I shouted back.
My eyes met Oliver's for a moment before I looked back to George who had bent down to my height. I rolled my eyes, "Don't be ridiculous."
"On my count!"
"What?!" I cried incredulously.
"Get your face over here," George said, pulling my cheek against his.
"This'll be good," Angelina chuckled.
"This is a terrible idea," I muttered, shaking my head as I passed George the seventh glass.
"One!"
"Two," Fiona interjected.
"Three!" the chorus echoed and I opened my mouth at the last minute as George tipped the glass back. At least half that shot dribbled down our chins and onto the front of our clothes, but we recovered after a lot of sputtering and laughing.
"To Fred!" George yelled again. I couldn't help but smile as I wiped my face with a small napkin.
People had begun counting down from thirty. It was almost midnight. George went back to his spot next to Angelina who handed him an extra napkin and helped wipe down the front of his shirt.
Twenty-five, twenty-four...
Fiona moaned, "I don't have anyone to kiss!"
"I don't either," shouted back Rose.
Nineteen, eighteen, seventeen...
"I'll kiss you, Rose!" Fiona said, throwing an arm around Rose's neck. I laughed and reached for my beer.
"Try to hide your jealousy, Rue!" Rose cooed, reaching across the table and squeezing my forearm.
"Oh, I'll try!"
"We are so single!" Fiona sang.
Eleven, ten, nine, eight...
I set my glass down and licked my lips. The band had stopped playing for the countdown. Apparently, some of them planned to kiss each other before starting the first set of 2000.
I most certainly was not expecting a kiss at midnight, I thought as I twirled the ring and new charm on my necklace between my fingers. That was perfectly fine with me. I would be content to watch George and Angelina kiss–finally–and no doubt Rose and Fiona would be amusing enough to watch.
Six, five...
Just as I had resolved that I wouldn't be getting a kiss, I felt a gentle hand on my arm. I turned to look up at Oliver as that warm hand slipped low on my back, smoothing over the fabric of my dress. His other hesitantly reached out and laced through my hair as he drew closer.
Three, two...
Instinctively, my hand went up his arm and to his shoulder. I thought I wanted to push him away, but something kept me from doing so.
One...
And then Oliver slowly dipped his head, my eyes closed, and the only thing I felt were his parted lips pressed against my own. The cat calls, whistles, cheers, and music faded away. This kiss was unlike any other we had shared. My other hand slid up his chest and wrapped around his neck. Oliver drew me closer so that no space separated us.
Pulling away for breath, he pressed his forehead against mine. "Rue, I–"
Were those tears I felt forming in my eyes?
At that realization, something in me snapped. I quickly disentangled myself from him. I briefly noticed Fiona and Rose's stunned looks and, flustered, I snatched my purse and coat. "Bye everyone," I shouted quickly and left the table.
"Rue!" Oliver called after me as I weaved through the crowd as quickly as I could.
"Happy 2000!" someone shouted at me, clapping me on the shoulder as I passed by.
"Yeah, you too, mate." I waved them off before bolting up the stairs to my room.
I shut the door behind me and tossed my coat and purse in a chair. I sighed deeply and leaned back against the door after struggling out of my shoes and tossing them near the chair too.
My mind was reeling.
A sudden knock on the other side of the door shook me from my thoughts. I turned to open it, expecting the Spanish Inquisition from Fiona and Rose. But, of course, I wasn't that lucky.
Instead, as I flung the door open, I came face-to-face with Oliver Wood once again.
I am so sorry it's been so long, but here you have an extra long chapter! I'm going to try to have another out this week, but no promises. As always, Jo Rowling owns the wonderful world of Harry Potter, and that which you don't recognize is mine. Please, if you feel so inclined, leave a review. Yours.