Chapter 14: New Year, New Man

Hermione Granger walked into the Leaky Caludron pub to meet her friends for the party. It was New Year's Eve 1999 and she was looking forward to spending the holiday with her mates.

Harry's eyes met her from across the room that he now crossed in three strides to give her a big bear hug.

"Ron and Lu couldn't make it," he mumbled into her chestnut curls. "The baby is keeping her up."

Hermione drew back, chocolate orbs wide with genuine concern. "Is she all right?" Luna had fallen pregnant with her and Ron's first child almost immediately after their wedding.

"Fine, fine, she's just feeling a little bloated - her word, supposedly."

"Any idea what they're having?" Hermione shucked off her coat, which Harry gentlemanly accepted from her to hang on the rack.

"No. Apparently, she's being coy..."

"Luna? Coy?" Hermione chuckled.

"... and won't even tell the poor fellow! Though Molly swears it's a boy. Something about boys tending to sit lower..." He gave Hermione a pursed smile. "I didn't follow."

"I jolly well hope you would have! You and Gin will be married and expecting soon enough!" Hermione smiled broadly. "And if anyone knows what it's like to carry boys, it's Molly; she did it five times!"

"Come on," Harry offered her his arm. "Everyone's excited to see you."

The best friends moved through the pub, which was choatic and crowded and noisy. From the way he kept slurring the word, 'LASSIE!' repeatedly upon catching sight of her, Seamus clearly was drunk. A tall and lean fellow stood from one of the barstools and Harry attacked him from behind with a backslapping hug before the man could turn around.

When he finally did, Hermione's eyes widened as she thought, Neville grew up.

Of course, she had noticed more than a year and a half ago, at the Battle, how he had slimmed down, shedding all of the baby fat of his youth. His face, slim and quite handsome, softened upon sight of her. "Hullo, Hermione."

"Hiya, Nev..." Hermione giggled as he reached over for a hug, and bumped into Harry, who edged away. Laughing, the pair hugged. Hermione drew back, at rest for a moment in his arms. "Who's here?"

"Just about everyone from the old Army," Neville fished a pendant-sized object from his pocket. "DA coins can throw a party together as fast as any meeting."

"I can see that!" Hermione laughed brightly.

Reaching between them, Harry lifted a flagon from the bar passed to him by Hannah Abbott. "A new year... new century... new millennium..." He beamed. "New beginnings."

"Hear, hear!"

"HUZZAH!" The cheers went up.

Neville pulled out a bar stool with silent prompting. Flicking back her skirts, Hermione accepted with a pursed smile of thanks. Neville hopped up onto the stool next to her.

"So: how's work?"

She shrugged. "Can't complain; I've got Daedulus working with me on drafts of Bloodline Anti-Discrimination legislation... You?"

"Helping Pomona in the greenhouses, then working with Harry and the Aurors on the side." He took a pull from his flagon. "Not a bad balance, really."

Hermione smirked. "I'm sure of that," she commented with dry amusement.

"How are you feeling?"

Hermione fanned herself. "A little lightheaded, actually. A bit stuffy in here; think I might step outside for a bit, would you care to join me?"

Chuckling, Neville followed her out to just outside the pub. There was an awning the pair could stand under, to keep warm from the heat wafting out from just within the door. The snow was falling heavily on Hogsmeade Village.

"That's fine. But... what I meant was..." And Neville sent her a look of sympathy. "How are you feeling?"

With anyone other than Neville - hell, probably with Harry - Hermione would have huffed and rolled her eyes. But the man was being so genuinely sweet that she worked to keep the annoyance out of her voice. "I'm fine. About Ronald and Luna. Honestly, I'm very happy for them..." She shrugged, smiling. "He says when the baby comes due, I am to be godmother."

Neville lifted an eyebrow. "That seems like one hell of a consolation prize." His quip was wry.

Hermione threw back her head and laughed. "I prefer to think of it as more like an award. The more I think back on it, the more I think Ron and I might not have made it if we'd stayed together and married..." She tilted her head, studying her old classmate thoughtfully for a moment. "What about you?"

He blinked, seemingly startled by the question. "What about me?"

"Are you seeing anyone?" She usually wasn't so forward in asking people about such personal matters.

"Are you?" Neville riposted joustingly, causing Hermione to blink, taken aback.

"No..." she murmured quietly. After waiting expectantly for a moment, Neville answered her.

"I dated Hannah Abbott for a bit after the war, but we decided to just be friends." He chuffed. "And you don't want to know the fails I went through at Hogwarts!"

"Why? Whatever do you mean?" Hermione blinked.

"Let's just say if you get old Gin drunk enough, she'll bemoan on and on about what a dreadful snogger I am..."

"What?!" Hermione half-gasped, half-laughed.

"It was after we went to the Yule Ball together; no melodrama after the fact. Well... not much." He shrugged, grinning helplessly. "She seems to think it makes an excellent cocktail story."

Just then, a shout went up from the bar. "60 seconds, everybody!..."

Hermione glanced at her watch. "Almost midnight. I think I'll head on..."

"Stay for the ball drop, at least!" Neville implored.

Hermione smiled gently. "You're sweet, Nev, but I..."

"Hermione!" Neville's blurt of her name was forceful, almost desperate, enough that it made her pause and glance back expectantly, even as he caught her arm. His eyes were wild and she watched him take a deep breath.

"... You ought to know that if I wanted to see anyone... it would be you."

Hermione's eyes widened in astonished surprise. She had no idea... how long had he...? "How long?" she gulped, her voice soft and her throat dry. When Neville shrugged and glanced down at his feet, Hermione's jaw dropped. Then she answered her own question. "What, since you asked me to the Yule Ball fourth year?" She was speechless.

Neville nodded. "Something like that..." he mumbled.

Hermione blushed. "I'm - I'm flattered..."

"...30!..." The countdown was continuing.

Neville stepped in closer. His gaze shifted up slightly. "Mistletoe..." he murmured quietly. "Only adds to it, I reckon. Nargles, you know."

Staring up at him, Hermione swallowed, hard. "What... what are Nargles?" she asked breathlessly.

Neville shook his head. "I have no idea."

The numbers dwindled away. Hesitantly, Neville bent forward, in his eyes a question. Tilting her head back, Hermione let how she met his eyes squarely be her answer, even as her own eyes lidded and drooped heavily.

At the moment the patrons in the bar roared "1! HAPPY NEW YEAR!", their lips met and they kissed tentatively.

Hermione was shocked, almost appalled with herself, at how quickly she moved to allow the kiss to deepen. Their kiss passionately escalated until a full-blown snog. Good Godric, she was kissing Neville! And she was enjoying it! She must be drunker than she thought! She moaned with pleasure as she felt his lips heatedly and heavily work hers open and their tongues collided. His one palm - meaty and calloused and strong - disappeared into her bun, untangling the knots and allowing her chestnut curls to cascade in a wave down her back. His other hand burned her hip, and then her bum as he dared to cup her there. Boldly, Hermione hiked her one thigh up and hitched it about Neville's torso, pushing her hips boldly into his. All the while, as the couple embraced, the snow fell around them, the sound of their friends singing Old Lang Syne ringing in their ears.

When they broke apart sensuously, Hermione stared up at her friend in amazement. Then... they both collapsed into giggles. Taking his hand, Hermione peered at him with fresh eyes anew.

"Come home with me tonight..." she murmured. At his dumb nod, she slowly led him with purpose back to her flat...

It was the best shag she had ever had in her entire life.

Nearly three years later - almost to the day of their first kiss - a wedding was held on the Orkeney Islands.

There were flowers in the bride's bushy hair as she stood before the man who was to be her husband. As officiant, Ronald Weasley glanced between the couple with a fond smile.

"I now pronounce this couple husband and wife. You may kiss the bride."

Hermione beamed up at Neville as he lifted her veil. Slowly, much like she had when he had confessed his feelings for her and kissed her, she leaned in, her eyes heavy with want. Taking, sweeping her into his arms, Neville pulled his bride close and deeply kissed her.

As the wedding kiss commenced, Ron smirked and raised his wand. Instantly, a tornado of blue light surrounded and engulfed the newlyweds, casusing Hermione's chestnut curls to stand on end. Throwing her arms around her husband's neck, her fingers tangling into his locks, clutching his muscular shoulders, she felt her groom turn her into him and pull her flush against him.

EEEEEEE! And as Neville and Hermione Granger-Longbottom embraced and kissed, fireworks whizzed and exploded in the evening sky above these isles of Scotland, sealing their union.

Neville and Hermione broke apart with shy smiles, their arms still wound about each other, to rapturous applause and cheers. Grinning, Ron stepped forward.

"If there is no objection, I'd like to offer my own congratulatins to the bride..."

He turned to his former girlfriend and best mate, who just smirked at him with amusement.

Ron did not waste the customary grace offered the officiant. Drawing Hermione into his arms, he kissed her own the mouth... and then cheekily deepened it, swinging Hermione back into a dip. When the ex-lovers broke apart, Hermione threw back her head and laughed, swatting him for such cheek.

"Why, Ronald! Whatever would your wife think?"

In the crowd, a very pregnant Luna Weasley, laden with her and Ron's toddler son, just shrugged, expression vacantly ce las vi. "Nargles!" she sloughed off.

Everyone laughed.