Affirmation

A/N:: **This fic has been edited from it's original version. It has been formatted to fit your screen… just kidding. But, it's a bit more intense, and please keep in mind that it is rated PG-13.

So, I suppose I should explain this a little bit. This is a twelve part fic. I took it upon myself as a personal challenge to see if I could do it and make it work. So far, it has. I am basing this fic off of the album “Affirmation” by Savage Garden. Each chapter is based off of one of the songs from the album. I wanted to go in order, but there was no way that was going to happen. So far I think it's turned out fairly well, but we'll see.

This isn't your typical songfic. I don't have the song intruding in to the fic [except for one or two], rather instead I have the lyrics worked in to the pieces. They are all worked in differently, either by spoken word, or thought, or something. If you can pick it out, kudos to you. If you want, you can look up the lyrics to each song; it may help you understand the piece a bit more. It may help you to get a feel of the fic if you have heard the songs, but if not, that's okay too. Hopefully I've been able to convey it well enough. The title of each chapter is the title of the song that will be portrayed in it.

Disclaimer:: I do not own, nor do I claim to own any of the characters used in this piece of work. I also do not own any of the songs by Savage Garden; I am simply borrowing their ideas and creating it in to my own bit of work.

With all of that said, enjoy!

Chained to You

It was one of those nights.

You know, one of those nights.

One of those nights where nothing could possibly go wrong. It's one of those nights that you think it's all too good to be true. For me, it wasn't. It was perfect. I was the man.

Okay, maybe I exaggerated a bit with the last part.

Ahem.

Okay, okay, fine. I was a total wreck, but the night was still pretty good. Confusing, yes, but good none-the-less.

It was Ginny's birthday, and she was having a huge bash. She rented out the Leaky Cauldron. When I arrived, the party was already in full swing. Music was blaring and people were dancing. I made my way over to the bar, which was packed with an assortment of food. I asked the bartender for a firewhiskey. With my drink in hand, I turned to survey the crowd. There were many familiar faces. I spotted Ron and Hermione sitting at a table with a few other people off in the corner. My heart gave an unstable lurch as I spotted Ron and Hermione holding hands. Why should my heart lurch? They've been dating for three years or so now. Why should it matter?

Beats me.

I plastered a smile on my face as I sat down next to Hermione.

“Hey guys, what's going on?” I asked.

“Hey Harry! Good to see you!” Hermione said, smiling warmly at me. My smile became real as I smiled back at her.

“Harry! How are you?” Ron asked.

“Good, thanks,” I replied semi-sarcastically, “and you?”

“Oh I'm fine thanks. So how have you been? I haven't seen you in ages!” Ron replied, picking up on the game.

“Oh I know, it's been too long mate,” I said, smirking. Truth was that we'd seen each other earlier in the day. We worked together at the Ministry. Hermione was looking between us, bewildered. We were both trying hard not to laugh, but couldn't resist anymore. We both started cracking up, and everyone was looking at us like we were freaks. Okay, I suppose they had every right to, considering we were freaks… and but that's beside the point.

Other than our bit, everyone was just making the usual small talk that goes along with social gatherings. Also sitting at the table were Neville and Luna. They had remained friends, actually best friends, and I was happy for them. They had tried dating, but they were better off friends. It was like the old gang was together again; there was just one missing.

And then I spotted her.

She was in the middle of the dance floor, dancing as if no one was watching. She looked so free out there. She was completely oblivious to my staring. She just had this glow to her, and she was gorgeous as ever. I hadn't really seen her since we'd broken up back in my 6th year. But now, here she was. I smiled, though something felt different. Something just wasn't the same, but I couldn't put a finger on it. I felt a shiver flow through me as she swiftly flipped her sleek orange hair over her shoulder and kept dancing.

“Ron, please!” I heard Hermione hiss. I looked over to see a grimacing Ron staring at the table, his hand wrapped tightly around a drink.

“Hermione, drop it,” he hissed back through clenched teeth.

“Ron, please no more,” Hermione begged through a whisper.

“I'm a big boy,” Ron shot, looking up and narrowing his eyes at her. He downed the drink in one gulp, and then got up to go over to the bar. In his wake he left Hermione, sitting staring at her hands in her lap. Tears began forming in Hermione's eyes, but none fell. She looked up and made brief eye contact with me. The fear in her eyes was so intense it made my heart skip. I sent her a questioning look, but she just looked away.

I got up to go get another firewhiskey from the bar. While I was waiting for my drink, I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned around to look in to the beaming face of Ginny Weasley.

“Hey Gin--” I started, but was cut off by her grabbing my hand and dragging me on to the dance floor. I felt like a fool, to say the least. That feeling soon fell away though.

Dancing with Ginny was amazing; she made it seem so easy and free. We were laughing as we walked off the dance floor together. We found a quieter section of the room. I still remember this perfectly. We were standing all alone; you were leaning in to speak to me. Acting like a mover shaker, dancing to Madonna…

And then you kissed me.

And I think about it all the time. Passion, desire, so intense, I can't take it anymore! I feel the magic all around you, it's bringing me to my knees like I want to be - no, I've got to be chained to you.

Ten steps back you're still a mystery.

My head was in the clouds; I didn't know what to think. We started to slow dance, and everything was supposed to feel good.

But, it didn't. I don't know why. Hermione and Ron made their way over and cut in. Ron wanted to dance with his sister, the birthday girl. That also meant me dancing with Hermione. I didn't think anything of it, but I couldn't help but notice the flutter in my chest when I put my hands on her waist. She snaked her arms around my neck, and a shiver ran down my spine.

“So, you and Ginny kissed, huh?” Hermione asked. I wasn't sure, but I thought Hermione's eyes flickered when she said that.

“Yeah,” I replied uncomfortably. Hermione nodded.

“So, err … are you guys, you know …well… back together?”

“No,” I said, furrowing my eyebrows. Hermione looked surprised. I didn't blame her. I was surprised myself. Truth was, I didn't really want to get back together with Ginny. There was something in the way, but I still couldn't place what it was. We finished dancing in silence.

The rest of the night was a blur. Frankly, I had a few too many firewhiskeys after that to be able to recap properly. All I know is that when I said good bye to Ginny, she was really passive and unemotional. She acted as if nothing had happened. I don't blame her. Then again, she was a little tipsy and having trouble just standing up… but whatever. The night was so confusing to me; I'm just trying to make something of it. I keep coming up short though.

I think about it all the time.

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A/N:: Part 2, yay! Anyway, this one is from the song “Hold Me,” and hopefully you'll be able to pick up on some of the lyrics entwined in here. If I didn't mention it before, all of the chapters are in first person. It's kind of fun, but hard at the same time. Each chapter's point of view depends on who the song fits. Hopefully it will all make sense in the end.

Disclaimer:: I do not own or claim to own the characters found in this story, nor do I claim to own the ideas of the song “Hold Me” by Savage Garden.

Hold Me

“For once could you think about someone other than yourself?” Hermione yelled, throwing her hands up in frustration.

“I'm sorry, but someone has to think about me,” I replied sarcastically.

“Oh that's rich, real rich,” Hermione snapped.

“What? It's true. No one else around here ever thinks about me. I'm just trying to make up for it.”

“Oh knock it Ron, I at least take in to consideration your needs.”

“Oh, you do, do you? So when I said I wanted to go to the Quidditch world cup and you said that work was more important, that was considering my needs... How?” Hermione narrowed her eyes to me.

“You seriously consider that a need? I never thought you were that dense.”

“Yeah, well, apparently I have the ability to surprise many with just how dense I am,” I retorted, rolling my eyes. When I saw her smirking at me, I continued on. “And apparently you never picked up on the art of sarcasm.”

“You can not be serious. You're blaming me for your sarcasm? Honestly...”

“Well I apologize, I just thought that you were supposed to be the smart one.”

“I am, sometimes it's just hard to distinguish when you're being sarcastic or when you're being plain stupid.”

“What do you want from me?” I cried, throwing my hands up in desperation. I saw Hermione flinch momentarily, but then regain her composure.

“You are impossible Ronald Weasley,” Hermione snarled.

“Yeah, I know, you say that every single time we have a row. I'm impossible, tell me something new!” Hermione glared at me.

“I only say it because it's true. You are completely impossible. You're an insensitive prat, completely blind to my needs--”

I didn't even realize my hand had left my side, but here it was now, pulsating as it clenched in my left hand. The blow caused Hermione to fall to the floor. She had her hand pressed tightly against her cheek where I had made contact. At that moment, I really didn't care. My adrenaline was pumping, and I wanted to keep the fight going.

“Oh you're right Hermione. If I'm so impossible, then why the bloody hell are you still with me?” Hermione gaped up at me. Her eyes were red, but they held no tears. She sat paralyzed on the floor. She seemed to come to her senses though. She closed her mouth and clenched her jaw.

“Are you suggesting something?”

“I don't know, am I? Am I, Hermione? Why don't you find someone who isn't so impossible? Maybe Harry, you've never had a huge row with him. Not to mention you guys seemed kind of cozy at Ginny's party--” I stopped myself short. I knew I'd gone too far this time. “Hermione, I'm sorry, I didn't mean that--”

“Save it, Ron. You know perfectly well you meant it,” Hermione snapped.

“No, Hermione, I'm sorry... really.” I sighed and ran a hand through my hair. I held a hand out to her, and she reluctantly took it. I pulled her up and walked her to the couch in my living room. We sat down together, Hermione's other hand still tracing her cheek. I took a deep breath in before I spoke.

“Look Hermione, I really didn't mean that. It's just, I don't know. It feels like we're growing apart, and I hate it.”

“Oh save it Ron, really,” Hermione shot at me, her eyes on fire. I felt a lump forming in my throat. We sat there in silence for what seemed like an eternity. More than angry words I hate this silence; it's getting so loud. I want to scream, but bitterness has silenced these emotions.

“I might need you to hold me tonight,” I whispered, “I might need you to say it's all right.” The lump grew larger in my throat. I looked in to her eyes. The fire had subsided, but the emotion there was still overwhelming.

“If we can't find a way out of these problems,” she said, her voice shaking, “then maybe we don't need this. Here we are, standing face to face, supposed to be madly in love. Yet we're enemies at war, building defenses and secret hiding places.” She paused for a moment, and swallowed hard before she continued. “Why? Why do we do this? Why are we putting ourselves through this pain?” I said nothing. I had no response that could prove the situation any different. She was right.

This was the end.

“Good bye, Ron,” she whispered. She placed her forefinger under my chin and gently lifted it. She kissed me one last time, and that was that. She left my flat without a sound. I sat in a daze on my couch. I brought my fingers to my lips, the feeling of her lips still lingering on mine. The thing that hurt the most out of the whole situation was knowing that there was nothing I could do to change anything. This hurt like hell, but it was for the best. How could two people who constantly bickered ever last? If I thought that it'd last, I'd be delusional. She didn't love me anymore, and I'm not sure if she ever really did.

I sat on the couch for awhile longer, still not wanting to believe she'd really left. I wiped away a stray tear from my cheek. I was going to get up and go to bed, but there just didn't seem to be any point. I just sat there, basking in the lonesome silence of my flat. I looked over to my liquor cabinet. It seemed as though the alcohol was calling my name. My body yearned to have the bitterness flowing through my veins. Before I knew what I was doing, I had the entire bottle of firewhiskey at the couch with me. It would be gone in no time, and I would be happy once again. You may be gone, but the alcohol isn't. I took a long drink, feeling the liquid burn all the way down my throat. It was all I could do to try and burn the feel of your lips off of mine.

I might need you to hold me tonight.

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Wow, finally an update from me! Amazing I know. I'm sorry about the huge time gap, but I have most of the story finished, so the rest of the chapters should be posted fairly rapidly here.

Two Beds and a Coffee Machine

I sighed as I sank on to the bed in the small room I had rented for the night. It was a sleazy motel, but I knew it was better than going home that night. He knew where I lived, and after I walked out on him like that, there was no saying in what he'd do. He's been better lately, but Lord knows there are always relapses.

I knew he never thought it'd happen. I don't think he ever thought he'd become an alcoholic either. He was trying so hard to be better. I know he hated himself when he got drunk, and even more when he started hitting me. But yet, he didn't stop. That's probably why I chose to leave on a night he was sober.

He had been sober for a few weeks now, actually (not including Ginny's party a few nights ago). He was getting better. It didn't help our situation, but it was good to know he was getting better. Even if he wasn't an alcoholic, I would have left anyway. I didn't love him anymore, and we both knew it wasn't working. Even when he was sober we bickered constantly. It was driving me insane. I wasn't sure when I was going to leave, but when he brought up Harry, I knew it was then.

I looked around the dimly lit room. There were two beds and a coffee machine. That was basically the extent of it. The carpet had stains that I didn't really wish to investigate and the curtains looked as though they were made of pure dust. The comforter on the bed was nearly translucent, with a pattern that would be mocked in any normal home. Through all of its filth, it was somewhat comforting. I felt like a huge weight was lifted from my shoulders.

He was still my best friend, there was no question about it. I am going to do all I can to get him help. I will be there for him every single step of the way…

But as a friend.

It was for the best, it truly was. I couldn't go on pretending anymore. We were both getting hurt and it wasn't worth it.

Tears burned in my eyes as I felt the fading bruises on my arm. I winced involuntarily as pain throbbed in the bruises. I wasn't sure if the pain was physical or emotional. My leaving really was for the best. I don't know how far things would have gone, and I'm kind of scared to think about it. I'm thankful that at Ginny's party, the drinks Ron had didn't make him overly mean or abusive. At least I knew there were a load of people there, so not much could happen. Harry was there, too. I always felt safe when Harry was around. I kind of wished I was with Harry tonight. I knew he would protect me from anything. A tear slipped as I remembered the feeling of his hands around my waist. His touch of care and protection made me never want to leave that dance floor.

I stood up and paced around the room a bit. My mind was restless; thoughts of what comes next encumbered my head. Sitting down now would only cause me to be overtaken by tears, and I'd had enough of that in the past months. I wanted to be strong again. I wanted to feel alive. I wanted to be free. Suddenly my chest felt lighter as the realization that I would be free swept over me. Another tear slipped from my eye, except this time it was in hope.

As soon as I possibly could, I was going to talk to Harry and Ginny. I needed them to help me confront Ron. If just I confronted him, things could get ugly. If all of us did it, it might still get ugly, but might convince him easier. It was going to be hard though; I hadn't told anyone about what was going on. I couldn't. But I couldn't hide the bruises anymore.

There's hope in the darkness, and I know I'm going to make it through.

All I know is that something has to be done, and fast. I know if I have Harry at my side, it will all be okay.

I just wonder how I ever made it.

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Gunning Down Romance

I can not believe this happened.

Wait a minute, yes I can. I knew from the start her whole heart wasn't in it, and it never could be. How could I have been so stupid to think otherwise? I don't know, I guess that's what happiness when you're in love.

-- Wait, did I say love? No. Infatuation, that's a much better term. Infatuation. I became too caught up for my own good. I was just a teenage boy with a silly crush.

-- Crush, did I say crush? That sounds like such a harsh word; it almost makes me sound like a giggly pre-teen girl, but yeah, a crush …

… Oh who am I kidding? I was one hundred percent head-over-heels in love with her. Hell, I still am. But there's not much I can do, right? I mean, part of this was my fault, … hah, part. Right. More like ALL my fault. Let me think for a moment … yep, still the same. Completely my fault.

I keep thinking to myself, `if only I wouldn't have brought up that night.' Why was I so stupid? And how could I have possibly thought that after that big of a fight, she would hold me in her arms? A part of me believed she would. I guess that's also the part of me that thought it could have even worked out, the part that believed she could ever truly love me. How could I honestly have been so stupid?

I was fighting back tears as I got out of bed. I had to do something; I couldn't be left alone with my thoughts for much longer. I slipped on a jacket and shoes. I left my small flat without a sound. The cool night air that met my face was welcomed. The air had a dampness to it as the rain had just ended. From the looks of it, however, the clouds could burst at any moment, showering the already soaked world around me. I really didn't care though. I began walking, despite the fact that I had no destination. I just needed to walk - to feel the fresh air in my lungs, to feel the muscles in my legs stretch, to see something other than my wall in my living room.

The streets were dark and empty. They matched my mood, to say the least. I still felt like such a fool. My world was crashing down around me. I just wanted to scream. I had to stop thinking about her, but it was so damn hard. Whenever I thought about her, it felt like my heart was being ripped out. Why did I have to bring him in to the fight? Why?

Stupid.

But, I suppose it's better to face the truth now. She didn't love me, we both knew it. I just wish it weren't true. I couldn't have avoided it for much longer. It was becoming more apparent each passing day. Neither of us was happy. Her kisses were short and passionless, her words passive and harsh. Our childhood rows had escalated to full blown wars. I had started getting violent, and I hated myself for it. I always said I wasn't going to be that guy, that guy who abuses his girlfriend. I shook my head in shame. Tears were stinging my eyes. I was longing for that burning liquid in my throat. I longed for my nerves to be calmed, for my mind to be numbed.

“How could this happen to me,” I whispered. By now I had reached the end of the road, and could either go left or right.

I chose right.

Stupid idea, I know. Stupid because it took me right past her flat. I just wanted to see her - her smile, the way her hair falls in her face, the way she used to look me in the eye.

I stopped dead in my tracks. I could see a glimpse of her flat from here.

“What the hell am I doing?” I thought aloud. I shook my head and turned down the alleyway. Why would I have wanted to go there? What if they would have been together? A tear slipped down my cheek. I wiped it away in haste. Bitterness got the best of me and I balled my fists.

“I'm gunning down romance; it never did a thing for me,” I spoke angrily, “but heartache and misery.” My heart was ripping in two. “Ain't nothing but a tragedy.” I clamped my eyes closed as another tear made its way down my cheek. I sank to my knees in the middle of the dark alley. I hung my head and braced myself with my palms on the pavement. A tear slipped and joined the puddle I was kneeling in.

“Love, don't leave me,” I whispered. Another tear fell and sent ripples through the puddle. I clenched my jaw and then punched the puddle with my fist.

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