At Midnight

New Year's Eve. 6:00 PM.

She sat looking herself over in her vanity mirror, an old family heirloom she neither liked nor needed, but kept because it reminded her of her mother, of her childhood. Had this been two years ago, looking in that mirror, she might have cried, pulled out an old family album and traced their faces with her finger, trying to keep the memories from fading. Now, sadly, she had no tears, no thoughts for them, so long had it been since she'd seen them, their graves dusty and neglected in a small cemetery outside of London.

It was just too hard.

Sighing deeply, she applied mascara, careful not to poke herself in the eye the way she always did. Ginny usually did her make-up, though tonight she had other plans and was out with Harry before the office party at nine, which meant she had three hours until she had to be around everyone, all those who she knew and loved and dreaded seeing. Not that she didn't enjoy their company, but the thought of having to act around them, pretend she was alright when she clearly wasn't, was not something she looked forward to. Perhaps tonight would be different, perhaps she'd learn to forget and just have fun, the way she used to be able to, before everything crumbled and turned gray.

And now she was lost and alone and full of sadness and regret, her body and soul covered in the scars of war. It had been so long since the fighting, since the end, the glorious end, when Harry finally defeated the Dark Lord. And yet, as glorious as it had been, the happiness faded as quickly as it'd come. Every day she wondered when she would just get over it and move on, let the past stay put and go on with her life. This year, maybe, it would be different.

You tattoo the failures on,
On to your length of arm.
They may run wrist to shoulder blade.
Whether my badges of
Honor you lost in love.
Savin' the tale of the child that failed for another day.
This will be a totally new year.

7:04 PM.

It was raining when she entered the living room, having heard a crackle in the fireplace, signaling she had a "call". Ron's bright red hair was the first thing she saw and, despite her always-sour mood, she smiled. She would never stop loving him. Although their relationship had ended after the war, she still retained her feelings for him, though they had melded into that of brotherly love.

"It wasn't supposed to rain tonight," was the first thing she said.

"It's London," he replied with a shrug. "Are you ready?"

She nodded.

"I'll come get you at 8:30, ok? After I check in on Maryanna." Maryanna was Ron's girlfriend of a little over a year, a girl both book-smart and street-smart, a muggle from northern Italy. They'd met years ago, during the war, when Ron went on assignment to Italy. A band of Death Eaters had nearly demolished a small village and there were only a few survivors. Maryanna and her family were of the few; they'd been in contact ever since. She'd known of the Wizarding World most of her life, her distant cousins having some magical blood in them.

"Is she still not feeling well?"

Ron frowned. "Unfortunately. I told her I'd stay at her place with her, but she's insistent that I go to the party." He neglected to add that the reason she was so adamant was because she knew that if Ron didn't bring Hermione then she was likely to stay home and mope around alone. Maryanna and Hermione had become quite good friends over the years, after all, and she worried about her mental health.

"You don't—"

"Yes," he insisted. "I do. I'll see you soon." And then he was gone.

* * *

Flashback:

"You're going to have to talk to me eventually."

Hermione rolled her eyes, her attention focused on the parchment before her.

"Granger—"

"We're colleagues now, Draco," she bit. "Call me Hermione or don't talk to me at all."

At this he smiled.

"Very well," he conceded. "Hermione. As you pointed out, we work together, and the Minister wants you to show me the ropes around here, so—"

"It can wait. I have a lot of work to do, Mal—Draco. Come back later."

* * *

The rain hadn't let up for hours and it didn't look like it was going to stop any time soon. Hermione was beginning to wonder who was punishing her.

"I still don't see why we had to come out here," she sighed, leaning against the wall of the cave, the whirling winds and crashing waves below making it difficult to hear anything else. "The only significance this place held was the horcrux, and that was a fake."

"We're trying to track down rogue Death Eaters who escaped justice, Hermione," Draco groaned, as if it hadn't been explained a hundred times already. "There might be clues here that could help the investigation."

"Why don't you just call on your old buddies? It'd certainly be a lot easier."

Draco was on her so fast she barely had a chance to scream.

"What is wrong with you!" he cried, grabbing her roughly by the shoulders. "I've been working with you and yours for years now. I've paid my debts! I live in near-squalor for my crimes! I've had my trial; I've proven myself to everyone else. You're the only one who seems to question my motives. Even Potter accepts me! I have more skeletons in my closet than I can count, but I'm trying to make right! Why…" Suddenly he dropped his head and stepped back, turning from her. "Why can't you see that?"

Hours later, in the light of morning, Hermione opened her eyes to the sound of birds and the scent of warm sunshine. The rain had stopped hours ago, while they slept. Sitting up and looking over at her co-worker, still deep in sleep several feet away, she smiled. Last night had certainly been an interesting night. They'd argued for what seemed like hours, finally ending with a stiff handshake and a promise on her end to try a little harder to accept him, to trust him.

She wondered if she truly could, but it was a start.

End Flashback:

Don't let the pouring rain,
Temper your day-by-day.
Don't let the bones the closet may hold
Get in the way.
After a long dark night,
Bathe in the morning light,
Then take your return,
The lesson you learned:
You'll get it right.

7:45PM.

Hermione nearly jumped when there was a knock at her front door. Puzzled, she went to answer it. Ron wasn't supposed to be there for another 45 minutes.

"Hi," she said to the person on the other side of the door, walking away, but leaving the door open for him to enter.

"What a warm welcome," he laughed, shutting the door behind him.

"I don't appreciate uninvited guests."

"Well I know you would never consider me a guest, so I seem to have found a loophole."

"Prat."

"Bitch."

Her back stiffened and she turned from the pot of tea she'd been about to set on the stove to boil.

"Excuse—"

"You're a sad, angry, miserable, lonely person, Hermione," he sighed, shaking his head. "And you can be such a bitch because of it. This summer, when we went to the cave, I thought you'd gotten over the past. I guess I was wrong."

"I haven't seen you in months, Draco. Two weeks after we came back you up and left and I haven't heard a whisper of you since. If you wanted to make nice with me then perhaps you should have tried harder."

"So your truces come with timed stipulations?" he laughed coldly, taking several steps towards her. "I was on assignment out of the country, so I rented a flat there. It seemed more efficient."

"Drop the bullshit, Malfoy. What are you doing here?"

"Draco," he corrected, then stepped even closer, as close as he dared. "And I came here to see you. I don't believe in complicated language or social codes."

"You're not making any sense." She moved away from the stove and into the living room. Sighing loudly, he followed, taking a seat next to her on the sofa.

"We made a truce, our time as foolish childhood enemies is over. We're colleagues now, and I hope we can act like such." He looked away for a moment, as if collecting his thoughts, and when he looked back something in his eyes had changed. "I'll be blunt. I want to apologize for how I treated you, because even though we've made amends I realized that I never did say I was sorry, and I am. I was young and stupid, and I can't change it, but I can try to make it better."

Hermione wrinkled her nose at this, looking disgusted, but on the inside she was tearing apart. This was so strange, so new, so confusing. She wanted to vomit; she wanted to run; she wanted to hit him so hard he felt as horrible as she did right now. Instead, however, she said, "You can't make it better."

He nodded. Of course he knew that.

"I know who I am to you has been shaped by what I've done. What I hope you'll understand is what I do now, all I've done to help since." He stood to leave, touching her cheek softly for an instant. It sent a tremor through her, but she remained still, stoic. "I'll see you at the party."

This is where we begin,
Feels like an ending.
Say it with no pretense,
I'm tired of pretending.
You know that life won't wait,
You'll have to make your move
The choices you make, every awful mistake,
Will try to define you
This will be a totally new year.

8:28 PM.

This time when there was a knock at the door Hermione actually did jump, her nerves shot. Slowly she walked across the living room, smiling meekly at Ron.

"Ready?" he asked, somewhat distracted.

"Sure. Just let me grab my purse. Is it still raining?"

"Yeah," he said, frowning, "it is."

"Don't let it ruin your night," she said, smiling. Ron's brows narrowed and he tilted his head to the side.

"Are you feeling alright?" he asked.

"Sure. Now let's go. I told Gin we'd be there at nine."

Don't let the pouring rain,
Temper your day-by-day.
Don't let the bones the closet may hold
Get in the way.
After a long dark night,
Bathe in the morning light,
Then take your return,
The lesson you learned:
You'll get it right.

10:55PM.

"Just go talk to him," Harry said, coming up beside Hermione and handing her a glass of champagne.

"What?" She was so startled she nearly dropped the glass.
"Draco," he laughed. "You've been staring at him all night."

"I have not—"

"Hermione," he said, taking her hand. "I love you and I know you better than anyone. You're the only one around here that's been resistant to him."

"He came to my house earlier."

Harry smiled, urging her on.

"He…he apologized for…everything. But that wasn't the weird thing," she said, turning fully towards him. "The weird thing was…I believed him."

Harry laughed, maybe a little too hard, then smiled and pulled her into a hug.

"It's alright to feel awkward about it. Now I have to go find Gin and give her something. Will you be alright alone?"

She nodded and he walked away.

Taking a deep breath, she approached him.


This will be a totally new year.

"I'm sorry," she said, coming up behind him.

He turned, looking slightly confused.

"For?"

"How I've been treating you. You were right, I've been a bitch. And I'm sorry, you deserve a chance just like anyone else."

He didn't know what to say, so he didn't say anything.

"Alright," she said, glancing out the big picture window at the drizzling rain outside. "I better get back to my friends. I'll see you later Draco."


Don't let the pouring rain,
Temper your day-by-day.
Don't let the bones the closet may hold
Get in the way.
After a long dark night,
Bathe in the morning light,
Then take your return,
The lesson you learned:
You'll get it right.

11:58 PM.

Hermione stood amidst a crowd of friends and co-workers, all chanting and cheering, waiting the stroke of midnight. She laughed and smiled and cheered along with them, but her thoughts were elsewhere, her eyes scanning the ocean of bodies for a glimpse of him.

11:59PM.

His brilliant blond hair seemed to pop into existent across the room. He was leaning close to a fellow colleague, a young up-and-coming witch with long black hair and a small, pretty face. She was giggling and touching his arm and for some reason this sent a shiver through Hermione's being. Scolding herself, she turned away and counted the seconds in her head to midnight.

12:00 AM.

"Happy New Year!" everyone cried in unison, couples and friends alike embracing, kissing, laughing.

Hermione sighed under her breath, then gasped as strong hands snaked their way around her waist and warm lips crushed themselves against hers. For an intense moment they were locked as one. Then he stepped back and smiled.

"Happy New Year, Hermione," he said.

"H-Happy New Year, Draco."


The lesson you learned:
You'll get it right.


Here's a little one-shot. I recently got The Get Up Kids solo album and when I heard this song (A Totally New Year by Matt Pryor) I just had to make this.

Let me know what you think!

REVIEW!!

P.S. I'll update my other stories soon. Just need to get back in the groove :D