A/N: So, just when you thought it was all over for the year, here's my final story for the 2017 festive season. Over the next 3 days join the Hogwarts alumni as they take on New Year's Eve at university. I hope you enjoy.

Thanks to Mamacita, as always, for sorting out my punctuation.

Happy New Year everyone! Dx

Hermione sighed as she looked down at the party dress she was wearing. If she had her choice she would be in her pyjamas right now, curled up on the sofa reading a good book with a glass of wine and some chocolate instead of getting ready to go out to a party she didn't even want to attend.

But Harry and Ron had been insistent, reminding her that it was their first year at university and that even she couldn't stay at home on New Year's Eve when there was a party to go to. It would be fun, they said. She would have a good time, they said. And, Hermione, who had sighed just as loudly then, had been unable to put up any defence they would accept in favour of staying in on her own.

Even the weather had conspired against her. Hermione had been hoping for snow, preferably of the thick and unnavigable variety that used to fall at Hogwarts every year, which would allow her to bow out of having to leave her flat, but so far there was no sign of anything even vaguely resembling the lightest shower. It was bloody cold out there but there was no sign of any white stuff other than a thick frost that nipped at the nose and ears, combined with a cold wind that made you wish you were indoors drinking hot chocolate rather than walking around in it.

She peered in the mirror, checking that her hair and makeup looked okay. She didn't normally bother to wear much but she supposed that if there was any time to make an effort then it was tonight. After all, the party was supposed to be a good one — everyone who was anyone at the university would be there — and she, Harry and Ron were still famous for their work in defeating the Dark wizard, Voldemort, a task that had gained each of them an Order of Merlin First Class award and plenty of column inches in the newspapers over the last few years.

Hermione, like Harry, would have been happy to live down the fame, to try to subsist quietly and get on with her studies, but she was aware that Ron was enjoying the notoriety, milking it for all it was worth, and she and Harry were loath to ruin things for their dearest friend. During all the time she had known Ronald Bilius Weasley he had never had a chance to shine. He was always the wholly unremarkable younger brother or friend of the more famous Harry Potter; steadfast and loyal, certainly, but nothing special — until now. Now, he was a hero and it had boosted his self-confidence to unimaginable levels.

Originally, Ron and Harry had decided not to go back to Hogwarts to finish their schooling like Hermione had once the school reopened. Eager to assist in cleaning up after the war they, along with several other ex-Hogwarts students, had all joined the Ministry of Magic working alongside the new Minister, Kingsley Shacklebolt, as Aurors, determined to track down and capture as many of Voldemort's old followers as they could. This had continued for a couple of years until most if not all of the Death Eaters had been rounded up and put on trial.

It was at this point that Kingsley had quietly suggested that the young Aurors should return to a learning environment in order to prepare themselves for the hard work ahead of them in their future careers. Hogwarts was out of the question as they were now far too old to return there, even had they wanted to. Instead, they were allocated places on a vocational course at the same university that Hermione and various others who had returned to Hogwarts were due to attend, and September had seen a considerable number of Hogwarts alumni descend upon the university located on the south coast.

Hermione had found a nice and modestly priced little one-bedroom flat not far from the university library, while her Auror friends shared a house on the other side of the campus nearer to the town and its extensive nightlife. Harry and Ron met up with her for lunch several times a week and quite often came to visit her at her flat during the evenings.

She was not quite so keen to visit them, as a group of boys living alone was not conducive to a tidy home, and she was always embarrassed when she turned up to find scantily clad young women wandering around the place seemingly without a care in the world and with absolutely no sense of propriety.

Hermione smoothed down the blue velvet dress one more time before turning away from the mirror to retrieve her shoes and handbag. Fortunately, the venue for the party was quite close so she didn't have to worry too much about slipping on ice in her party shoes although she still put a gripping charm on them just to be on the safe side. As she grabbed her cloak Hermione looked at the clock. It was already almost eleven p.m., an hour later than she had agreed to meet her friends. No doubt they would be ready to come looking for her, knowing she hadn't wanted to go out in the first place.

Another sigh escaped Hermione's lips as she wrapped the cloak around her almost dramatically, then left the flat, shivering as she stepped into the cold hallway that led to the front door. At least she only had to get through a couple of hours and then she could come home again. Knowing them, the Auror boys were probably already drunk so weren't going to be much fun to be with, especially as she wasn't interested in any of them manhandling her. They were all far too much like her brothers for that, but no doubt she would have to fend off at least one of them, particularly if they were pissed.

Hermione's stomach tightened as she walked down the road, an image popping into her mind that automatically made her feel sick and ready to turn tail and run back home to the safety of isolation. There was a person from Hogwarts who she didn't consider like a brother, and she was fairly certain he was going to be at the party tonight, too. Unfortunately, it was also fairly unlikely that he would give her more than a brief nod of acknowledgement, let alone get close enough to get intimate with her.

Draco Malfoy, now even more handsome than he had been at school, had also come to the university along with several of his Slytherin cronies, although his remaining troll-like bodyguard, Gregory Goyle, had been too stupid to make the grade. Draco, like Hermione, had returned to Hogwarts once the school had been rebuilt, as keen as she was to finish his education and attain his N.E.W.T.s.

He had changed considerably since the war and was no longer the swaggering 'Prince' of Slytherin but instead, a relatively quiet and studious young man who had, to Hermione's great surprise, made an effort to seek her out and apologise profusely for what his aunt had done to her at Malfoy Manor during the war.

It was obvious that he felt bad for the part his family had played in Voldemort's return to power, and Hermione was aware that his mother, and possibly even his father too, had defected to Harry's side by the time the final battle came. This had made it far easier for her to forgive him knowing, too, that there was nothing Draco could have done to help her escape the torture Bellatrix Lestrange had inflicted upon her.

They had become companions of a sort, quite often partnering each other in the classes they shared despite her best friends' continuing hatred for the blond Slytherin, and she had grown to like and even admire him. Despite his prejudiced background, Draco really was trying to change, and as far as Hermione was concerned, that was a good thing.

She had been pleased to discover that he, too, was going to university, although she was aware that with the return of her former Gryffindor classmates the dynamic would change somewhat. But like her, Draco was studying academic classes rather than the vocational ones her friends were enrolled in so she ended up sharing many classes with him and they had once again gravitated towards each other as class partners.

Hermione hated to admit it but she actually had a bit of a thing for Draco, although she kept it well hidden, particularly when Slytherin girls like Pansy Parkinson and Daphne Greengrass were still around to twist the knife and make her life a misery if they discovered her attraction. It was pointless, anyway.

Although Draco had changed she still couldn't see him being attracted to her in return. There were too many years of ingrained hatred towards Muggles and Muggle-borns to overcome for him to feel truly comfortable with her and their own past was extremely chequered, to say the least.

Draco lived with his best friend, Blaise Zabini in an expensive apartment overlooking the seafront. Hermione had never been there but she knew where it was and how much it must be costing to rent, and occasionally when she was feeling particularly masochistic she considered what the décor would be like inside it.

She suspected that unlike the Auror boys who were, not to put too fine a point on it, a bunch of slobs, Draco and Blaise probably kept the place immaculate at all times, and she imagined grand dinner parties with fine food served on good quality china and expensive wines and champagne in crystal glasses rather than the beer and takeaways that Harry and the gang seemed to live on.

As far as she was aware Draco didn't currently have a girlfriend, at least not a regular one, although both he and Blaise, who was as handsome as his friend, attracted the beautiful women of the university like flies and were rarely seen without several of them hanging around.

Hermione's only satisfaction was that Pansy was no longer one of Draco's favoured friends, something that the pug-faced young woman had taken very badly. In fact, Draco spoke to Hermione more than he spoke to Pansy these days, but that didn't really mean anything except that they shared more classes.

She walked up the stairs to the front door of the house where the party was taking place. She could already hear music, loud and throbbing, exploding from the house through the open windows and door.

Several people were lounging around outside on the steps, most smoking although there were a few who were much the worse for wear and were being sick into the bushes underneath the lounge window. There were two small groups of young women who were clustered around crying friends, presumably comforting them after some breakup or argument with their possibly now ex-loved ones.

Hermione tried not to roll her eyes and sigh at the drama as she passed, her heart sinking even lower as she walked through the door and into the crowded hall. If the people in here were anything to go by, everyone was probably drunk by now as the party had started at seven.

With most people having no doubt spent the afternoon in one of the many pubs in the town, probably getting there as soon as they had opened at eleven that morning, she was going to have to deal with a bunch of drunken idiots reeking of booze while she was completely sober.

Hermione couldn't help but wish she had downed half a bottle of vodka before coming to make the evening a little less painful, but she knew that had she done that she would never have come to the party at all.

Now she was here and she supposed she should try to find her friends regardless of what state they were in. She greeted several people she knew, a grim rictus of a smile on her face as she made her way through the hall and towards the lounge where it was most likely Harry, Ron and the other Auror boys would be.

The lounge was packed with hot, sweaty bodies gyrating to the deafening sound of the music and she peered through the darkened room trying to spot any of her friends. She stopped at one point and looked around her but soon began to move again when a lithe and sinewy man she didn't know began to grind himself against her in time to the music.

'Hermione!'

She heard the cry just a fraction of a second before Neville launched himself at her, wrapping his arms around her neck as he kissed her on the cheek. Hermione carefully removed herself from his grasp and studied him appraisingly as he swayed in front of her. Yep, he was pissed. As were the rest of them.

'Here you go,' Seamus said, handing Hermione a bottle.

She stared at it suspiciously for a moment, then realised it was beer. She took a small sip then, satisfied that it was what it appeared to be, she took a larger one.

'Where the bloody hell have you been?' Harry asked, his voice slurring slightly as he and the rest of the Aurors joined her. 'We've been here for hours.'

'Yes, I can tell,' she replied with amusement. 'You're all drunk.'

'And I suppose you're still stone cold sober, are you?' Ron asked disapprovingly. 'Why did it take you so long to get here? You only live round the corner.'

'Because I had no desire to spend all evening in this place getting drunk,' Hermione told him, shouting over the loud music. 'You know I didn't want to come in the first place. I'm only here because you insisted I couldn't stay at home on New Year's Eve.'

'You missed a great session down the pub this afternoon,' Ernie told her, moving in to talk to her as he wrapped his arm around her shoulder, leaning on her for support. 'Where were you?'

'In the library, I expect,' Ron said a touch snidely.

'The library isn't open on New Year's Eve,' Hermione pointed out as she extricated herself from Ernie. 'Anyway, if I'd started drinking at lunchtime I'd have been fast asleep by now so you can't have it all ways.'

'Well, it's grand to see you, so it is,' Seamus said with a grin. 'Nice dress. You look very posh.'

Hermione had already realised that she was completely overdressed for the party — that realisation had dawned before she even got through the door. Apparently, the party of the year was just another house party that no one had really bothered to dress up for. The few people not wearing normal clothes were in Christmas fancy dress or neon tutus, leg warmers and matching wigs, for some reason she didn't understand.

It was going to be even worse than she feared, and she couldn't even think about leaving for at least another hour — no one was going to let her go before midnight. She took another mouthful of her beer hoping it would help, but it didn't. She was far too sober and way too overdressed and completely out of place in a party like this.

'So what did you dress up for?' Ron asked, swaying dangerously. 'I mean, you look good but a bit out of place. We're at a party, not going to the theatre.' He snorted uproariously as if he had just told the best joke in the world.

Hermione stared at him coldly. 'You and Harry told me this was going to be a good party so I assumed it would be something more refined, something a little less—' She waved her hand around the room to indicate the drunken dancers and her friends who were all having trouble standing in one spot for more than a couple of seconds.

'You need to let your hair down a bit, Hermione,' Ron said. He took a swig from his bottle of beer, burped loudly, then grabbed a passing blonde, yanking her to him and giving her a passionate kiss which she seemed quite happy to accept. A moment later the two of them were snogging fiercely.

Hermione found herself unable to stop the expression of disgust that crossed her face.

'Don't worry, he's only playing,' Harry said in her ear as he swayed towards her, his eyes rolling. 'He's too pissed to do anything.'

'You all are,' Hermione pointed out.

'Not me, darlin',' Dean said as he wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her closer with a wink. 'I'm still good to go; if you know what I mean.'

Hermione shook her head in exasperation as she pushed him away. 'Still not interested,' she told him.

Dean shrugged but didn't look surprised. 'If you change your mind . . .' he offered.

'Do you want another drink?' Harry asked.

'She needs some shots,' Ernie answered. 'Loosen her up a bit.'

'I don't want to be loose,' Hermione replied, agitation in her voice, 'and I don't think the rest of you need anything more to drink, either.'

'Spoilsport,' Ernie retorted.

'At least have another drink,' Harry suggested. 'You've got a long way to go to catch up with us.'

'I've got no intention of catching up with you,' Hermione said, but she followed Ernie and Harry into the kitchen, leaving Ron still snogging the blonde.

'You do look really nice tonight,' Harry told her once they were out of the noise of the lounge.

'I feel really out of place, though, Harry. I wish you'd told me it was just going to be a house party. I wouldn't have made such an effort to dress up. Everyone keeps staring at me,' she added unhappily.

'That's 'cos you look so fine,' Ernie said as he raised his bottle in a salute to her.

'It doesn't stop me feeling uncomfortable,' Hermione pointed out.

She opened the bottle of wine she had brought with her, and eventually locating a clean glass she proceeded to fill it before leaving the bottle on the worktop with all the other drinks people had brought.

'Here.' Ernie gave her a small glass containing clear liquid before passing one to Harry. He was still holding one for himself.

'What is that?' Hermione asked suspiciously.

'Sambucca, I think,' Ernie said as he sniffed it, then held the glass out in a toast.

He and Harry clinked glasses and looked expectantly at Hermione. Resigned, she clinked glasses with them both, then downed the drink, coughing as the strong aniseed-flavoured liqueur burnt its way down her throat.

Ernie coughed too and whacked his chest hard several times. 'Fuck, that's some good stuff. Do you want another?'

'Well, it's cleared my sinuses, anyway,' Hermione said, only just able to speak. She dropped the glass on the counter. 'No more for me, thanks. I'll stick to the wine.'

Harry held out his glass and Ernie poured them both another shot as Hermione shook her head in disbelief.

'You're a pair of idiots,' she told them as they clinked glasses again. 'Don't expect me to help you when you end up with alcohol poisoning.'

Leaving her friends behind as she felt the sudden need for fresh air, Hermione made her way out of the back door and into the garden. She was immediately hit by a wall of smoke from those crowded around the door, all needing a cigarette but not wanting to go too far into the cold garden. She pushed her way through the group, desperate to find some space, pulling away from a tall, black-haired guy who tried to kiss her as she went past.

Finally out of the throng, Hermione relaxed as the cold, fresh air hit her and the noise subsided somewhat as she walked further down the long garden away from the house. Obviously, she couldn't stay out here for too long as it was absolutely freezing, and she also really didn't want her friends coming to find her and ruining the blissful peace she had discovered, but she could spend a few minutes out here alone — enough time, hopefully, to make her more amenable to the party going on back inside the house.

She stopped and took a deep breath, enjoying the cold air in her lungs, her head tilting upwards to look at the stars twinkling brightly in the night sky above her.

'Nice outfit, Hermione, but I think you're a bit overdressed for this place.'

Hermione turned to look at the man who had spoken. Draco and Blaise, both casually but immaculately dressed, were walking towards her, their acolytes following along close behind.

Hermione shrugged, trying to appear unperturbed. 'Harry and Ron misrepresented the party to me. Had I realised jeans and a jumper would be more than sufficient I would have dressed accordingly.'

'I like it,' Draco told her with a grin. 'It's good that someone made an effort to look good this evening.' He pointed towards a woman further down the garden who was wearing a red and white Santa outfit that, with its short length, was little more than a belt. 'At least you didn't dress like that.'

Hermione shuddered at the thought of showing off so much flesh. 'Not really my sort of thing,' she told him.

'No, it isn't, is it?' Draco's gaze raked over her as he spoke and Hermione felt her stomach somersault.

'What are you drinking? We've got champagne if you want some,' Blaise said, looking at Hermione's glass and brandishing a bottle.

Hermione finished the small amount of wine still in her glass then held it out for some champagne.

'Thank you.' She smiled at Blaise.

He winked at her, then began to top up the glasses of those around them.

'You don't look very comfortable,' Draco said. He had moved away from the group to stand closer to Hermione.

'I'm not,' Hermione admitted ruefully. 'I didn't really want to come anyway, but dressed like this—'

'As I said, I really like it. That colour suits you,' Draco said with another smile. 'Why didn't you want to come to the party?'

Hermione shrugged and took a sip of her champagne. 'It's not really my sort of thing, to be honest. I'd much rather have stayed in and read a book — boring, I know.'

'You're not boring, and I can understand how this party isn't living up to expectations,' Draco countered. 'But however bad it is, you can't stay in on New Year's Eve, Hermione. It's a time to say farewell to the trials and tribulations of the old year and usher in the excitement of the new and as yet uncharted one. You can't do that when you're at home on your own.'

'I find it all a bit depressing, to be honest,' Hermione conceded.

'It doesn't help that you're apparently still sober,' Draco said with a smile.

'I haven't been here all that long.' Hermione's tone was slightly defensive although she wasn't quite sure why.

'About forty-seven minutes, according to my watch. More than enough time if you're dedicated enough,' Draco said as he looked at the timepiece on his wrist.

Hermione stared at him in surprise, wondering how and why he had noticed her arrival. She would never have expected it.

'I'm not. I don't really drink that much.'

'Obviously.' Draco dropped his hand and shivered. 'Merlin's beard, it's cold out here, isn't it? I thought it was going to snow earlier but no such luck. It's blowing a bloody gale down on the front, though. We got blown right round the corner, it was so fierce. I think we're going to go back inside now. It might be crap in there but at least it's warm — and it's almost midnight. Are you going to come with us?'

Hermione nodded mutely and followed the group back into the kitchen, where she discovered the Auror boys were waiting, having apparently sunk several more shots since she had left them.

'There you are. We thought you had gone home,' Harry said.

Hermione shook her head. Tartly, she told him, 'There wouldn't have been much point in me coming in the first place if I was going to leave before midnight, would there?' She looked around, suddenly worried. 'Where's Neville?'

'Hannah Abbott,' Ron said with a wink as he attempted and failed to tap his nose.

'Really?' Hermione was quite interested in this news. 'How long have they been a couple?'

Dean looked at his watch, closing one eye as he attempted to focus on it. After a moment he gave up and shrugged. 'About fifteen minutes.'

'Ah, right.' Hermione nodded, understanding that this was just another drunken hook-up rather than a real relationship.

'It's almost midnight,' Ron announced. He was still swaying, so much so that he was making Hermione feel a bit queasy just looking at him.

She glanced towards Draco and his friends who had moved away from the door and were clustered around, chatting animatedly. Hermione wondered whether she could go and join them again, whether they would allow her into their group or whether that access was over now she had returned to her own friends. Draco was leaning forward slightly, listening to a beautiful blonde as she talked to him intently. Hermione's heart sank. If she went over there she would definitely be intruding.

Hermione sipped her champagne, the bubbles making her nose tickle as she watched Draco deep in conversation; for her, there was no one else but him in the room at that moment. She realised she was edging his way, slowly and without it being obvious — she hadn't even realised she was doing it.

Suddenly, there was almost total silence as the music was turned off. Voices that had once been loud were instantly subdued by the quiet. Then, breaking the fleeting peace, came the sound of Big Ben striking the hour — ringing in the New Year — although Hermione had no idea where it was coming from; presumably the party host had intercepted a Muggle radio broadcast. People began loudly counting down the chimes, a sense of anticipation running through the whole house as if everyone was ready to explode when the final chime was over and the brand new year arrived.

As the bell continued to chime midnight, Hermione realised that Draco was staring at her, all signs of interest in the blonde seemingly gone. Hermione stared back at him, her mouth suddenly dry, her heart pounding. Despite the beautiful women all around him, Draco was interested in her. Did she dare take those next few steps that would bring her close enough to touch him, to put him in the perfect position for a kiss when the bell finished tolling? A little voice in her mind told her not to be so stupid — he was just looking, it didn't mean he desired her — but Hermione was certain that it was now or never.

Taking a deep breath, she moved towards him, only to be enveloped in a massive bear hug as Ron grabbed her and pulled her into an impassioned kiss as the last chime of the bell faded away.

Hermione's heart sank, knowing she had missed her chance, and as she fought to free herself from Ron's arms she saw Draco turn away, his attention back on the beautiful blonde as he gracefully wrapped his arms around her slender waist and kissed her — the kiss that Hermione was certain had been intended for her.

Tears filled her eyes as she watched the couple, one kiss turning into several more, her heart breaking as she ignored her friends, all of whom were trying to wish her a happy new year. Hermione already knew it wouldn't be. They were less than five minutes in and already her world had been shattered by Ron and his unthinking drunken behaviour. She was angry with him, so angry, but there was no point in confronting him about it now.

Hermione had to get away, needed to go home where she could scream and cry without anyone being any the wiser. But now Harry was wrapping his arms around her, whispering in her ear. She was surrounded by her friends, stopping her from escaping as she so longed to do.

By the time she had hugged and wished happy new year to all the Auror boys, been forced into joining in with Auld Lang Syne, and exchanged more good wishes with other friends from school and university, Draco and the blonde had left the kitchen, the whole group seemingly dispersing into the night.

She explained to her friends that she needed to leave, that she wasn't feeling well and was uncomfortable staying at the party any longer. Some disappointment was expressed, but by now the Auror boys really were far too drunk to care too much and they soon released her. Hermione made her way back through the house, spotting Blaise near the stairs with a tall, willowy brunette wrapped around him, and kept going, praying that she wouldn't come across Draco and the blonde in a similar pose.

Unfortunately, as she stepped outside the door, the smokers still spreading a fug across the entrance, Hermione heard a high-pitched giggle and a wicked laugh, and her heart almost stopped. As she descended the stairs, needing only to get away, she could see Draco and the blonde woman ahead of her, wrapped around each other under the street lamp, the illumination bringing into sharp relief the couple's obvious interest in each other.

Hermione managed to stifle her sob until she got round the corner, rushing as fast as her legs would carry her back to her solitary little flat, tears rolling down her cheeks like a flood. She had been so close and Ron, the bloody great oaf, had completely ruined her evening . . . and not for the first time.

She flung herself onto her bed, hugging the pillow as she sobbed and wailed, her heart breaking all over again.

It was a long time before she fell asleep.