Chapter 9

It was all going splendidly if he did say so himself. And he did. Dancing, talking, laughing with Hermione…it had been just what he thought it would be. She was brilliant. He was a little nervous about the next part though. What would she think when they were suddenly alone? He didn't want to come across as a creeper or anything.

"Where are we going?"

"It's nearly midnight," he said simply, trying to act confident, as he pulled her through the crowds and eventually made his way out of the tent. It was dark, but he maneuvered expertly through a nearby grove of trees to a large open area where had previously laid out a blanket.

"Is that-" she began as he handed her a thermos full of piping hot liquid.

He nodded. "Mum's hot cocoa. Come on, let's sit, the show's about to start." He sat down on the blanket, taking her hand to help her get situated gracefully as she was still wearing her dress and high heels.

Well, this was perfect. He would never have dreamed in a million years that she would be willing to sit out here alone with him. Evidently things weren't like they used to be.

"Shouldn't we tell the others they are about to start?" she asked looking around in bewilderment. His heart fell a little. She hadn't realized they were going to be alone after all.

"We charmed the roof of the tent to disappear as the show begins," he said slowly. "They'll be able to see quite well. I just thought it might be nice to watch it together. Privately, I mean." He looked over at her a little uneasily, bracing for her response.

"It's perfect," she said. He glanced down warily, but she seemed sincere. He knew she probably still didn't believe he was serious, but he honestly wasn't sure how to prove it to her.

"Oh, look, it's starting!" she cried as the first sparks filled the air.

"Do you like it?" he whispered in her ear, secretly thrilled by her reaction and the close proximity of their bodies.

"So much," she said. "You guys really outdid yourselves. It's incredible." He grinned at her as she pulled him up into a standing position.

"Hermione," he said, but he wasn't sure if she had heard him over the noise from the display above them. He started to curse his own dumb luck when he noticed that the light from the fireworks was just enough for him to see that she was staring straight at him. Those big, brown eyes that he loved so much.

"I…well, it's just…" he stammered, his usual confidence missing as he obviously struggled to find the right words.

He was interrupted by a loud boom as a giant number 10 appeared in the sky overhead. "Oh, it's the countdown to the new year," Hermione squealed.

9…8…7…6…

"I'm sorry, Fred, what were you saying?" she asked her eyes never leaving the sky.

5…4…3…

He just watched her. She was so vibrant and full of life. And as carefree as she was acting she clearly had forgotten that at the end of tis countdown….

2…1…

He had to go for it though. Isn't that what he had said he was going to do all week? Kiss her at midnight? Merlin knows he wanted to and she had never actually objected, right? She could have told him no. He figured the worst that could happen was that she stopped him and he spent the rest of his life in hiding out of humiliation. He decided to go for it.

"What-" she began, unable to finish as his lips crashed down on hers. Tenderly at first, becoming more urgent as he realized she was responding in kind. She wrapped her arms around his neck as he put his hand on her back and pulled her body flush with his. Several moments passed before they reluctantly pulled apart. He pressed his forehead to hers, wrapping his arms around her waist. He felt like his heart was going to explode out of his chest. Bloody hell, that had been everything he had been expecting and more.

"Wow," he whispered, as he reached up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Happy New Year, Hermione," he smiled down at her, as he leaned in once more, brushing his lips softly against hers.

"Happy New Year, Fred," she said softly, not really looking at him. He had no doubt that if they had more light he would see that she was blushing furiously.

He rubbed his hand up and down her back gently, enjoying the intimacy of the moment when he felt her stiffen.

"Hermione?" he asked, lifting her chin so he could again see her eyes. "Are you alright?"

She jumped back, stumbling away from him. Oh, Merlin, was she regretting kissing him? No, no, no… say something. He reached forward to take her hand in his.

"Hermione, I have had so much fun with you tonight. I really wish it didn't have to end."

"But it does," she murmured, releasing herself from his embrace. "I'm sorry, it's late, and I should go. Thank you for a wonderful evening."

He stared dumbly after her as she rushed off. Obviously that hadn't been the right thing to say. How did things go so terribly wrong?

"Damnit!" he cried, punching a nearby tree in frustration. There had been something in that kiss. He knew she felt it. Why did she run away? They had been having a great time or at least so he thought. Crying out in frustration, he stormed back towards the Burrow, eager to find George and then fix his throbbing hand.