Alone With You || A Dramione Fanfic

Twenty

Hermione awoke by an annoying tapping sound by her window.
She spotted a pigeon, pecking at her window sill, refusing to let her sleep in peace.

She rolled out of bed angrily, and stomped towards it, waving at it so it would leave.

As it eventually fluttered away, she came to realise that there was no sign of Draco, and a wave of dissapointment flushed over her.

A single ray of hope shone onto her, when she spotted a folded paper on one side of the bed.
Rushing towards it, she opened it and was greeted by his clean scrawl.

I didn't want to wake you, because you looked so peaceful, asleep.
But meet me by the lake at 11:00?

Draco

Hermione smiled at it and glanced towards her clock. It read 10:54, so she darted out of her bed and got ready as quickly as possible.
By the time she reached the lake it was already ten past eleven.

He smirked when he saw her running, and got up from his seat, ruffling his hair with his free hand. The other one was clasping a book.

"Late, are we?"

He waited until Hermione could catch her breath. Her face was flushed from sprinting across the grounds.

They ended up taking a casual stroll around, talking about this and that, before heading towards their class together.

*

"Draco Malfoy!"

A stern voice snapped him out of his day dreams. He could feel the entire class craning back to stare at him, and he began to feel uneasy.
He quickly apologized to the professor and ducked down his head in shame.
He felt horrible when he heard his classmates whisper amongst themselves about him, but calmed down when he spotted Hermione giving him a reassuring glance.

She was quickly distracted by Harry, who tapped her on the shoulder, causing her to look away.

He glared at Draco before returning to his work.

Did he know about them?

Fidgeting, Draco tried to pay attention in class, but was constantly pulled away by his thoughts.

*

Hermione noticed that Harry was acting strange, and she couldn't help but wonder if it was because of Draco.

She knew he didn't know about them, but she constantly felt paranoid that he somehow had found out.

She sighed. Why did this situation have to be so complicated?
Looking towards Draco, she realized that she couldn't live without him.
That perfect smile... she wanted to see it everyday. She wanted to make him happy, and be with him.

Hermione loved Draco, and there was no denying it now. She loved every single bit of him, every little detail.

She recalled the day he had revealed his Dark Mark to her. He had been nervous, and was afraid that she would reject him because of it.
Little did he know, that it had made Hermione love him more.

Snapping back out of her memory, she knew that she had to tell him. It was the truth, and she wasn't going to hide it.

*

Draco rubbed his temples, and frowned at the paper infront of him. It was his eleventh attempt of writing to her, all the failed ones were scattered along the floor, scruched up into balls.

He never had any problems writing to Hermione, but this letter in particular was extremely hard to send and never seemed right.

It was in this letter that Draco wanted to confess his feelings.

He had felt them for a long time now, but was too much of a coward to admit it.
The only other option was to send a letter, but even now he felt anxious.

What if she doesn't feel that way?

Pushing the negative thoughts out of his head, Draco sealed the envelope before he could change his mind. He walked over to the cage bearing his beautiful eagle-owl, and opened the little gates.

The owl, hopped out onto the table, and ruffled it's wings.
Draco gently stroked its feathers and it pecked at his fingers affectionately.
He slid the envelope into the bird's beak, and sent him towards the entrance of the common room.

There were no windows in the dungeon, so the owl would have to fly out of the dormitory. Draco was slightly worried, but decided not to be, as all his previous letters had been well recieved an it was late anyway.

He slouched on his chair, letting out a breath. He had sent it, and there was no going back now. Tomorrow he would know if Hermione loved him back.

It had never come to his mind that someone might have interfered with his plans.

Someone like Pansy Parkinson, who, grinning evilly, scurried away into the darkness, Draco's letter in one hand, and his owl, struggling in the grip of the other.