Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not mine. I write for my own entertainment.

New Year's Kiss

Harry strolled through the room, sighing in frustration as the crowd parted like the Red Sea. No one wanted to get too close to the man who killed Voldemort. Who in the heat of battle had not hesitated to throw Dark spells and the occasional Killing Curse to save people's lives. That didn't conform to the populace's idea of who he should be.

He reached the buffet and filled his plate with finger food and picked up a flute of Champagne. Moments later he was resting on the wall along the perimeter of the ballroom, his plate of food levitating steadily beside him. That certainly didn't help the room's opinion of him. No one alive had been able to maintain magic that effortlessly and with barely any concentration.

Harry scoffed as he saw a woman near him pull a flask from her clutch and take a swig of liquid courage before approaching him.

"Hello," she said. He barely kept from wincing as her high-pitched baby voice washed over him. Harry said nothing, but did raise an eyebrow at her. It was apparently all the encouragement that she needed to continue.

"You look awful lonely just standing here all by your lonesome," the woman simpered before stepping in front of him and pressed herself to his body. "Dance with me?"

"No."

"But-"

"No."

"Why not?" she demanded, refusing to accept no for an answer.

"You're not my type."

"Your type?"

"In short, you're a woman. I like men. Cocks. Something you do not have," Harry stated bluntly. He smirked in amusement as she huffed in an offended manor and stomped off in what she assumed was a delicate way. She looked stupid.

From across the room something caught his eye. The flash of movement shouldn't have stood out from the rest of moving bodies, but did. The room was filled with bright washes of color, but that flicker of black cloth stuck out like a sore thumb.

'Now what is he doing here?' Harry thought with a feral look on his face. There was the one man that he had been hungering for … craving for the longest time.

For the first time ever was he glad that crowds parted for him in the way he did. As the people around him started to count down the magical hour he slowly started to move towards his prey.

"10!"

He was finding the man in the room, spotting him against the far wall.

"9!"

Harry started towards him. Setting down his plate and glass along the way.

"8!"

Women approached him, slowing him. But not deterring him in the least.

"7!"

He ducked behind someone for a moment. Not wanting to be seen until the last second.

"6!"

Impulsively, Harry made a slight detour and picked up two fresh flutes of sparkling wine.

"5!"

He was halfway there now, and quickened his steps to make it there on time.

"4!"

Harry glanced around, noticing that others were staring at him now.

"3!"

"2!"

"1!"

Grabbing the man's shoulders, Harry spun him around and kissed him squarely on the mouth as the clock stuck midnight. Coaxing the surprised lips into moving with his; pulling his tongue into his mouth to play.

When the noise died around them in shock, he pulled back, smacking his lips. The man tasted like licorice. Harry handed him the flute of Champagne that he had been holding.

"What's the matter, Severus? Lion got your tongue?" Harry asked him, wrapping his arm around the man's waist. Severus just stared on in shock before he moved and wrapped his arm around his new found lover's shoulders.


A/N: Here is a one-shot for New Year's Eve. I planned to update ALL my stories but didn't get a chance to get them all. Hopefully this makes up for that. ENJOY AND REVIEW!