A/N: I don't own Harry Potter, or any of his little friends. I just take JKR's magic and twist it to fit my visions.

This story is just for New Year's Eve. It tickled my fancy. Happy 2007, people.

"You mean you don't have anyone to kiss when the clock strikes twelve?!"

Hermione rolled her eyes and turned the page of her book, not bothering to look up. "No, Ginny. Who do you suggest I kiss? Kingsley? Mundungus? Harry?"

The red-head glared at her best friend. "No, not Harry!" Her eyes lost their steely glint and instead gained a mischievous glow. "I was thinking more along the lines of Ron."

If Hermione had been taking a drink at that moment, it would have been spraying everywhere. As it was, she dropped her book on her lap and winced slightly as the weight of the tome pressed down on her lower abdomen and thighs. "Ron?" she gasped incredulously. "You've got to be kidding. Why would I kiss Ron?" The look in her eyes and the flush burning on her face belied her words, causing Ginny to grin widely. Hermione picked her book back up and searched for the page she had previously been reading. "Really, Ginny, that's completely absurd."

Ginny sighed; Hermione was really too stubborn for her own good. But if she didn't want to admit her obvious attraction to Ginny's closest brother, then it was her choice. "Ok, fine, you don't have to kiss Ron. But you have to kiss somebody! It's New Year's Eve!"

Hermione snorted. "Really? When was that law written?"

Ginny growled, beginning to become irked by her friend. "It's not a law; it's tradition. If you kiss someone when the clock strikes twelve on the New Year, you'll have good luck all year."

The bookworm raised an eyebrow but didn't reply. Really, the idea that swapping spit on New Year's Eve for good luck was laughable. Practical people did not believe in silly superstitions like that.

Never mind that now she very much wanted to participate in said superstition.

Ginny sighed, finally giving up on Hermione. "Alright. Be that way. I'm going to go back out and party with the rest of the crowd." She stood up from her chair and stretched, taking a moment to look around the elegantly furnished room. She had to hand it to the Blacks; they might have been terrible people, but their taste in decorating was impeccable. The red-head focused her eyes back on her best friend and smiled slightly; Hermione was stretched out on the couch in front of the fireplace, attempting to hide her ever-reddening face in her book. "Happy New Year, Hermione," Ginny said quietly before exiting the room to join the rest of the Order in the grand parlor of Grimmauld Place.

Hermione waited until she was absolutely certain Ginny was out of earshot before slamming her book shut and groaning out loud. Curse that girl and her meddling ways! Now the only thing the brunette could focus on was kissing Ron. The way his lips would feel on hers, the way his cologne would invade her senses and cloud out everything else, the moonlight shining off of his fiery hair (where did the moonlight come from? Everyone was inside, weren't they?)...

"Stop it," she told herself viciously. "Thoughts like that are not productive."

"Thoughts like what?"

Hermione jumped and sat upright at the new voice. She turned her head to face the doorway and blushed deeply.

Ron Weasley entered the room and crossed to sit next to Hermione on the couch. He glanced at her book title. "What To Do When Attacked By Penguins?" he asked awkwardly. "That sounds... interesting?"

"What do you want, Ronald?" Hermione asked, pretending to be irritated. In all honesty, she was more embarrassed than anything. What if he had stayed silent and listened to her self-tirade? She had been planning and scolding herself for a goodly amount of time. Until he'd made an appearance, that is. Thank Merlin he wasn't the quiet type.

Ron looked hurt. "I'm sorry if I'm bothering you," he apologized. "I just wanted to see why you weren't at the party with the rest of us. Something wrong?"

The girl shook her head, guilt pervading her thoughts. "No, Ron. Nothing's wrong. I'm sorry for snapping at you." She shrugged. "I've got a lot on my mind?" she offered weakly.

The boy eyed her carefully for a few moments in silence. "Do you know what I think?" he asked finally.

"You're thinking?" Hermione teased. "It's a miracle!"

Ron glared at the girl before continuing, as if uninterrupted. "I think you need to relax. You've been stressing yourself out far too much. It's the holidays, after all!" He stood up off the couch and grabbed her hands. "Come on," he instructed.

Hermione resisted. Well, she attempted to. But she was partially in shock at the fact that Ron had just grabbed her hands. She wasn't quite able to put up a good fight. "And just where do you think you're taking me?" she asked the boy, irritation clear in her voice.

Ron turned around and grinned at her. "You'll see. Just trust me." He turned back around and began to lead Hermione this way and that way through the house. They traveled down this hallway, taking a right here and a left there, up this staircase, through this doorway... Hermione lost her bearings and just decided to go along with the ride. She wasn't even sure that Ron knew where he was going, but she decided she didn't much care. She was still focused on the fact that he was still holding her hands...

Eventually she found that he had brought her outside. To a balcony, no less. She glanced around, taking in her new environment. The cement structure of the balcony's decorative walls was crumbling and slowly being covered in moss. Currently, the moss was covered in a thick layer of snow, giving the dilapidated structure a feeling of freshness that it might have had when it was new and well cared-for.

Hermione's eyes traveled slowly across the view offered to them by their current elevation. "Why did you bring me out here, Ron?" she asked not unpleasantly.

"Don't you like it?" the boy asked, a note of worry in his voice.

"It's beautiful," she replied. "But why did you bring me out here?"

Ron shrugged. "You needed a break. And I knew that you wouldn't be comfortable in a loud room full of people." Hermione smiled slightly; it was true. People got on her nerves fairly quickly, especially when they traveled in loud drunken groups. And she knew without a doubt that the twins had spiked the egg-nog with something a little bit stronger than usual. Call it a hunch.

Call it watching Remus, normally a light drinker, stumble across the room in a very inebriated state with a lampshade over his head after drinking one glass.

"But..." She thought for a moment. "Why did you come find me in the first place?"

Ron scratched the back of his head in a helpless gesture. "Honestly?" Hermione nodded. "Ginny told me you might want some company. It's New Year's Eve, after all."

Hermione withheld a laugh; she should have known. Ginny was the worst matchmaker in all of England. "Yes, I suppose it is," she conceded as if the thought had never occurred to her. She glanced down at her watch. 11:54. Almost midnight.

Ginny's words (and the images that came along with them) rushed back at Hermione, and she felt herself blush as she looked over at Ron. He was currently staring off in the distance away from the balcony. Hermione's eyes dropped to her hands resting on the wall. "So. Any New Year's resolutions?" she inquired nervously, searching for conversation to distract her from her thoughts.

Ron shrugged. "A few, I suppose. Umm..." He pondered for a moment before smirking. "Resolution number one: stop being a prat."

Hermione giggled. "That's an admirable goal."

"So what about you?"

She glanced up at the shocking blue eyes staring intently at her and flushed. She looked away, back out over the landscape. "I think just to reevaluate what's important to me."

"How do you mean?" Ron was now turned around, leaning back against the wall with his elbows on the ledge, facing the manor. He seemed to be contemplating something and was only half involved in the conversation.

"Well," Hermione started, "I think I need to prioritize how I view my relationships with people. Worry less about what some people think of me and more about what others think." She traced patterns into a drift of snow that remained on the ledge and watched her fingertip turn red from the cold. "For example, I don't think I'll be taking much into consideration what Fred and George think I should do with my life."

Ron snorted derisively at her comment, causing her to smile. She looked up at her friend and caught his eye for a moment. She glanced back down at her watch and saw the time. 11:59 and counting. She looked back up at Ron; he, too, was eyeing her watch. His eyes traveled back up to her face and he smiled nervously.

"Say, Hermione..."

She nodded slightly. "Yes?"

"Have you heard of the tradition where, if you kiss someone on New Years Eve right at midnight, you'll have good luck for the rest of the year?"

Hermione felt goosebumps break out all over her skin. "Y-yes," she replied shakily.

Ron's ears were beginning to go red at the tips. "You... you wouldn't maybe want to... to test that out? Would you?"

Her eyes went wide. "Just for the sake of scientific purposes... I suppose, yes," she whispered weakly.

Ron nodded slowly. "Alright then. Ok."

They both looked down at Hermione's watch. The seconds ticked by slowly but surely. It would be midnight in three... two... one...

Hermione felt Ron's lips cover hers gently and exert a minimal amount of pressure. She responded softly, unsure of what she should be doing but knowing that what was going on right then was pretty good. Ron pressed harder as he wrapped his arms around her waist, and she urged him on while wrapping her arms around his neck. A faint (and fairly slurred) cry of "Happy New Year!" could be heard emanating from the house a few floors below them.

Slowly the pair broke apart. Hermione felt herself blush madly as Ron's eyes searched her face for... what? Oh, yes. Science. "Did it work?" she asked, sounding very out-of-breath.

"I don't know about you," Ron replied slowly, a grin spreading across his face, "but I feel very lucky right now."

Hermione laughed slightly and was about to comment, when she found her lips otherwise occupied. Melting into the kiss, she thought, I suppose this tradition isn't so bad after all.