These Dark And Hollow Nights

Chapter Twenty-Five: Forgiven and Free

Chapter Twenty-Five: Forgiven and Free

Draco’s POV

A month passed, and soon it was February. Only a month, but it felt like eternity. Every day without Hermione was like being tortured over and over again. In fact, he would rather take Lucius’s torture. It would almost hurt less than being away from her.

Finally, on Friday of the second week, Harry sent him a letter. A note, really, since it was only a sentence long.

I got the Floo. Be ready by dinner—H.

Draco almost smiled. He burned the note, and grabbed a piece of parchment off the table, and wrote a quick note to Hermione.

Room of Requirement 4 dinner. Meet me.

He didn’t sign it. He tucked it under her door, grabbed his bag, and left the dorm for his next class.

~*~

It felt like years had passed by the time the last class of the day finished and everyone started heading to the Great Hall for dinner. Draco raced to make it back to the dorm before Hermione got there. Since he would be finished faster, he’d be there before her. If it all worked out, that was.

When he got to the dorm, he changed into a plain, white button-down shirt and a pair of pants, and washed his hair in the bathroom sink. He heard Hermione getting ready in her bedroom, and briefly wondered what she would look like tonight. He didn’t think anything would ever compare to the dress she wore to the Halloween Ball.

When he was done washing his hair, he put on a bit of the cologne his mother had gotten him for Christmas—something called ‘Twilight Woods’—, checked his reflection in the mirror, and left the bathroom.

If this were a normal date, he would’ve knocked on the door to see if Hermione was almost ready, but because it wasn’t, he left the dorm, and headed to the Room of Requirement.

It wasn’t until he actually got there when his nerves started kicking in. He wasn’t the type to get jittery over a date, but this was different. This was Hermione. He had to make tonight perfect. It was his only chance.

Finally, at half-past six, Hermione started walking down the seventh floor corridor, and his breath caught.

Beautiful. That was the only word he could think of to describe her. But even that seemed like an understatement.

She was wearing a black lace dress that just barely reached her knees—it looked like a slip, more than anything—with a pair of leggings underneath, and there was a jacket draped over her arm. Her hair framed her face, the curls perfect and soft, and she wasn’t wearing makeup, except for a layer of lip-gloss that made him want to kiss her. She looked perfect, as she always did.

Of course, as he’d expected, she stopped dead in her tracks when she saw him standing there.

‘Draco?’ She gasped. ‘It was you? You asked me to meet you here?’

He swallowed, licking his lips. ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘Please, just hear me out. I only want to talk, and I worked really hard to set up this dinner in the Room of Requirement.’

She hesitated, and he wondered if she’d turn around and walk away. But she didn’t. ‘This better be worth it,’ she said.

‘It will be,’ he said, relieved.