Holding on and letting go- Dramione

Chapter 6

A cry
A rush
From one breath
Is all we're waiting for
-Ross Copperman

Hermione was excited. There was no denying that. This was the date she'd been waiting for. Why hadn't she thought of a blind restaurant before? There was a nervous smile on her face as she put mascara on. How would this work? Would she go in first and he would come later? Would it matter what type of clothes she would wear? He wouldn't even see it right? But he might, later, if she thinks he's nice. She pulled out a dark grey sweater dress and some deep purple heels. Perfect, she thought.

Pulling on her coat, she locked the door behind her. After a few minutes if fumbling around, she decided that taking a muggle taxi would be the best option as she didn't want her dress ruined. As she got in a black cab, and told the man where she needed to go, she pulled out her mobile and phoned George. After a few rings he answered.
Hermione found out that her date was already at the restaurant and was waiting for her.

After about twenty minutes in London traffic, she got off and walked to the place she was to meet her date. Her breathing hitched up and her heart beat considerably faster. She took two large gulps of air and walked in. How could she be nervous? She was never nervous.

Inside, the host asked for her name. She told him that the table was reserved under George Weasley's name. The host's head cocked a little at that. He seemed a little confused. He answered by saying that there already was another man sitting in that table, and that it would be an honor for him to arrange another table for her. She told him that the man inside was the one she came to speak to. The host seemed even more confused at that and started saying something. Hermione cut him off saying she didn't want to know the name of the man in the table. After about two more minutes of awkward silence in which Hermione felt even more awkward as the host gaped at her, he led her in.

She was taken to her seat and her coat was gently shrugged off if her. As she sat down she heard a man opposite her clear his throat. He then said, in a clear slightly lilted accent, "Hello, it's very nice to finally meet you."

That alone made butterflies erupt in Hermione's stomach. His voice was so masculine. So strong. And even though what he said was barely just a whisper, in the dark room she heard it louder, more lucid. She'd heard the voice before. She couldn't place where though.

Without the aid of seeing, and any physical contact he seemed so much more mysterious. She began to wonder what he may look like.

She answered quickly,"Yes, me too. I've heard so many great things about you."

He shifted in his chair,"Really? What have you heard?"

A whiff of his cologne came to her and the butterflies moved around more quickly. She told her heart to stop beating so loudly. He could probably hear it from over the table. She had barely spoken to this man for less then a minute and already this was happening? Hermione didn't know if it was bad or good, to be feeling this way. Nevertheless she liked it. She hadn't felt like this in way too long.

"I've heard things. They're good. Don't you worry," she said with a little laugh.

"I've never gone on a date and not known the name of the person opposite me," he admitted.

"That's the whole point of this one though, no?"  she asked.

"I wonder what you've done wrong to not be able to tell me your name," he said.

"I haven't done anything wrong," she retorted, "Maybe I'm not telling you because I've done something good."

"Ha! Good things happen so rarely though." He sounded a little upset.

"They happen still," she challenged.

"You sound familiar, your voice I mean. It sound like I've heard it before" he said, changing the topic.

"Yea, me too,"  she answered