A/N: Thanks to everyone who reviewed. :D And in the meanwhile, there's been a change of plans…one more chapter and an epilogue will follow this one…so here's chapter 10, and enjoy.
Chapter X: Burning Love
Draco walked in agitation into the backyard, towards the grove of trees that marked the boundary of the grass clearing. He had not been able to catch a respite for the last several days. Ginny's constant pestering had made him impatient and irritable. Even if he knew her behaviour was induced from the severing of the magical bonds, he found the task of showing patience and understanding for a longer period of time quite impossible.
Ginny had been shouting for the past day and fortnight about the most trivial of matters, at least in Draco's view, and he could not help, but feel the injustice, with which his flaws has been expounded indefinitely to define him as a lowly, deceitful and horrible character. Yet, he had reminded himself constantly about the effects of the spell exercised on Ginny, and he was determined to see the end of it.
"Malfoy!" Ginny's voice reverberated loudly from the open back door. "Drag your sorry behind back in this house! I am not finished with you!"
There was, however, nothing powerful enough in this world to induce him to return. Despite being informed that Ginny would suffer much more lightly than the others, he could not help, but feel mislead.
A vase flew out of the door, and its speed and trajectory surprised him greatly - he knew anger and magic were a potent combination; only to be proven correct, as the vase shattered against the trunk of the tree, mere feet from where he was standing.
Only, finding the resolution within him to face his much distraught beloved once more was not an easy task to accomplish. Still, with wand held aloft in front of him, ready to cast a shield charm, and with cautious steps, he progressed slowly through the clearing, back towards the house.
No noises came from inside, as if Ginny had suddenly disappeared. As he drew closer, Draco heard muffled sobs. Dropping all precaution, he rushed through the door, and his eyes landed on Ginny's form, stranded face down on the floor, and bawling her eyes out. Why she was crying, was something he could not determine, but presently, decided that helping her up, and trying to talk to her, was perhaps the best choice he could make.
He made to grab her arm.
"Don't touch me!" came a wail from somewhere within the mess of red hair covering Ginny's head.
"But…but Ginny," Draco tried to argue, sighing with frustration.
"I'm sorry," Ginny gasped out, as she turned her tear-streaked face to look at Draco. "Help me, please."
Utterly confused, befuddled, and wondering if he might be the one losing his mind, Draco hoisted Ginny off the floor and led her to sit on the couch.
Ginny's sobs subsided after a while. The entire time, her head was bowed, and her hair obscured her face. At a loss for what he could say, or do, Draco had wrapped his arms around her and rocked her gently, hoping this madness would stop sooner than later…
"Feeling better?" he tried hesitantly, once Ginny's breathing had slowed.
"Draco, why are you holding me?" she asked him with stiffly.
"Err…did you not want me to? Because I definitely do not plan on releasing you until you come to your senses," he countered more bravely than before.
"Is that so?" Ginny's tone had risen sharply.
"Y-yes, it is," her silver-haired half replied with attempted finality.
Only, his resolution was short-lived. Suddenly, the air was blasted from his lungs, as Draco felt himself flying backwards, and seconds later, impacting the wall rather hard.
Face contorted with pain, he let himself slide to the floor, barely able to breathe. Silently cursing the effects Ginny's procedure was producing, he decided to remain lying down, hoping against hope that his angered partner would not notice him, and set her rage free upon another object.
Alas, his peace was not meant to be. He heard Ginny stomping in his direction, and braced for another spell of pain - the current amount he was experiencing prevented him from effectively standing up and defending himself.
Strangely, she stopped over him, but he still did not dare move. Her voice rose to a dangerous pitch again, and her tirade began once more. Draco, however, permitted her words to wash over him, and he did not register their meaning.
After several minutes, he felt sufficiently capable of moving, and slowly, gingerly, he sat up and leaned his back against the wall.
Ginny suddenly ceased shouting. Draco looked up with a dead gaze, expecting more harsh treatment from her, but it didn't come. She seemed confused, disoriented, and not entirely aware of her surroundings; Draco was confused himself - she had been focused enough to steam at him for the past several days.
"Wh…what happened?" Ginny's unfocused gaze met Draco's, as she said this and then raised her hand up to her head.
"You don't remember?" Draco asked her, much more cautiously.
"I have a pounding headache," Ginny answered, closing her tightly. "What was I doing?"
"I think we can talk about it later," Draco said quickly - he did not wish to endure another angry outburst, nor provoke it; though he had the suspicion that Ginny's emotional unpredictability had ended.
"Later?" Ginny repeated faintly; she kept her eyes closed, but swayed dangerously on the spot, where she was standing.
"Yes," Draco affirmed, as he rushed forward to catch before she fell. "Right now - sleep," he added.
"Mm," Ginny's voice came - she might have wanted to say something, but couldn't, as she was now indeed fast asleep in Draco's arms.
"At last," he muttered in relief, and proceeded to carry his beloved up the stairs and to the bedroom.
**
Even Luna, as much as she could stand rage and not become involved in it, she also could not endure past a certain point. The reason - Ronald Weasley; he had been wholly confusing in his behaviour.
As Luna also knew about the uncertainty of the effects the braking of the magical bond could have, she could certainly not be prepared for the naturally temperamental second youngest Weasley.
"It was a mistake to part with Hermione," he shouted at her. "With what mind did I ever choose you over her! Loony Lovegood!"
Despite knowing his insults were not intentional, Luna still felt hurt by them. For the third time this week, Ron had expressed his displeasure of their relationship, but her patience with him was also rapidly thinning.
Deciding another jibe at her might push her past her breaking point, Luna walked over to Ron, and tapped him on the shoulder. He turned around, scowling angrily, but Luna was not intimidated.
A loud slap echoed, as Ron's head was twisted to one side, and Luna's hand flew through the air.
"Never, ever, question my love for you, because I know you don't mean any of it," she said through clenched teeth, her voice and features losing their dreamy quality, to be replaced by their angry counterparts.
Ron simply stared at her, bewildered. Expecting another round of verbal attack, Luna raised her hand again. Instead, she nearly lost her footing; unexpectedly, Ron had kissed her out of the blue.
Not that this action of his had not happened previously. Often, a spell of rage would be replaced by a session of romance, aimed at repairing damages he may have caused to their relationship. Right afterward, his angry demeanor would return, and he continued his tirade about Hermione's value in his life, and the mistakes he had supposedly made in giving his heart to Luna.
"Ronald…" Luna whispered against him, as the situation between them suddenly seemed to warm up…
"Let go of me!" Ron's voice rang out loudly, startling Luna abruptly out of her thoughts.
"What?" she asked, but her mind quickly refocused on Ron's unpredictable mood.
He gave her an especially cold stare, and stalked off towards the kitchen in silence. Still confused, Luna followed after him, and entered the aforementioned room of the flat on his heels.
"Talk to me, Ronald," she pleaded with him.
Ron leaned his hands on the countertop, his back hunched, and his eyes looking down in thought.
"Tell me, Luna," he asked quietly, "did I make a mistake?"
"No, no," Luna replied quickly, and stepped forward, embracing Ron from behind.
"I am still not sure," he said in the same tone of uncertainty. "Hermione and I - we were meant for one another."
"This is what you thought, love," Luna told him softly.
Her embrace seemed to be having an effect on Ron - she could feel him becoming less and less tense.
"Why did I fall for you? For what reason?" his voice increased with frustration. "Why do I love you?"
"Because I love you too," Luna tried to argue in vain; no matter her efforts, her irritation with Ron's repetitive reaction of doubt and anger was beginning to show.
"Is it something within me? Do I have an irreversible fault that caused Hermione to hate me so?" he asked anxiously.
Luna was on the point of denying Ron's proposition about himself, but stopped short when she realized the essence of the question.
"We are not perfect, Ronald," she chose her words with care. "You and Hermione did have different outlooks and desires, which caused you to part ways."
"So it's me, isn't it? All my fault?"
Ron's voice raised another octave. As if burned, Luna jumped away from him, feeling another verbal onslaught coming on. Only this time, Ron did not question her worth, but rather, his own.
"I am one horrible person," he was saying to himself mostly, "oh, why Hermione hates me? Well, the answer is obvious - I am just an inconsiderate, selfish git, with absolutely no sensitivity," he continued to mutter under his breath, quickly and harshly.
Luna was helplessly observing him from afar, and could do nothing, but wince, as Ron, in his anger, kicked the leg of the coffee table in the living room, and gasped as it flipped over. Her redheaded significant other grimaced in pain, and his face was contorted with even more rage.
"My table," Luna moaned quietly, as she watched Ron pummel the offending piece of furniture with his fists, and use a select choice of colourful language to express his anger at it.
Ron finally seemed content with punishing the coffee table, and left its splintered wooden carcass, as it was, lying on the floor. He directed his steps towards the kitchen once more, clearly set on doing something more dangerous to calm himself, but unfortunately, misjudged his step. A stray piece of wood he stepped on caused him to lose his balance quickly, and with a resounding crash, he landed face down on the floor.
Luna gasped in horror, and ran towards Ron's unconscious form to see whether he was severely injured. She kneeled beside him, and grabbed his wrist, feeling for a pulse. A sigh of relief escaped her when she found it, beating strongly. Upon closer inspection, the only impact Ron had suffered was to his head - a shiny bruise was prominent on his forehead, where his head had impacted the carpeted floor once he fell.
Luna rose to her feet, and a sigh of relief escaped her. She proceeded to repair the damaged coffee table to its original state with a wave of her wand. After that, she gently levitated Ron from the ground, and transferred him onto the couch, where he resumed his deep sleep.
"I'll see you in the morning, love," she whispered to his slumbering form.
**
Yet, the situations Draco and Luna were being faced with in their respective relationships could be considered mild, compared to the intense emotional turmoil that was happening between Harry and Hermione.
As they were both in am impaired state of mind, and with no one being able to reconcile, or keep them apart for that matter, their relationship had turned to a bitter chaos.
Harry had continued brooding, closed in his own mind, and insensitive to his surroundings, especially Hermione. She, in turn, had blown up at him on several occasions, cried rivers for reasons unknown, and finally settled in a depression of her own, treating Harry suspiciously and with contempt.
"Hermione!" Harry snapped at her suddenly - he had been constantly alternating between depression and anger.
"Don't you dare speak to me!" answered Hermione in a shrill voice.
Harry only glared at her - he knew arguing with her would be a futile effort.
"I want Ron back," Hermione said into the awkward silence.
"Do you?" Harry asked her.
"Yes - at least with him, life was more interesting," Hermione replied rather obtusely.
"Are you implying I am a bore to you?" he said, outraged.
"Oh no," Hermione said. "You are simply riveting," she went on to patronize him.
"If that is going to be how we'll understand one another, I think it would be wise I returned to Ginny," Harry snapped back heatedly.
"No, you don't!" Hermione raised her voice. "You're mine now!"
"Am I? Or are you?" he told her.
"That makes absolutely no sense," she snapped, frustrated with Harry's consecutive attempt to philosophize.
"I thought it would be clear to your oh-so-brilliant mind," he smirked at her.
"Are you implying that I am not smart?"
Hermione's fiendish glare fixed him, as she said this in a deadly quiet.
"You read my mind," Harry replied with bravado, as if he was blissfully ignorant of the tidal wave of fury waiting to bear down upon him.
"You insensitive, worthless, no-good idiot!" Hermione insulted him loudly, before turning around and staring out the window in cold silence.
Something clicked within Harry - a glimmer, a hint of something, but he could not quite place it.
"Really? Well, straighten your priorities - whom do you want to be with? Because I certainly have no feelings for you," he declared.
Hermione simply continued to stare outside at the passing cars.
"Is that so?" she asked in an offhand voice.
"Yeah, afraid it is," replied Harry again, with conviction.
"Then pray tell," Hermione flared up once more, "what are we doing under the same roof!"
"My sentiment exactly!"
"Look," Hermione tried to reason in her impaired state, "it's apparent we should not be together. I want Ron, and I really don't know which girl you are after, but it would be best to part ways right now."
"Best idea you've had all day," Harry agreed, still maintaining his tone of bravado, "In fact, you can pack your belongings, and leave this flat right now."
"Don't mind if I do," Hermione said with false cheeriness.
Yet, neither moved; instead, they stayed rooted on their feet and stared at one another suspiciously.
"Well?" Harry asked her expectantly.
"Well what?" Hermione queried him.
"Weren't you leaving?" he tried to remind her.
"No, I'm not," she told him with finality.
"Why?" frustration took Harry's demeanor over once again.
"No reason," Hermione simply replied.
"I cannot understand you," Harry began to rant, "you want to go back to Ron, and you cannot leave here. Make up your mind!"
"My mind cannot be made up - it is too complex," Hermione replied with a slight smile - she seemed to be enjoying riling Harry out of his skin.
"No, no," he said. "You have to go. Here, I'll help you."
Harry did indeed begin rushing around the flat, collecting articles of Hermione's, and throwing them inside a bag he was also carrying around in his hand.
Several minutes of hectic activity later, and the bag was nearly ready to burst from the overflow of objects packed into it. Harry held the bag out to Hermione and beckoned her to take it.
She had not moved while Harry was doing his best to send her on her way, but she did walk over to him once he was finished, and the expression on her face was unreadable.
Hermione stood inches from him. Inexplicably why, she leaned into him, and her lips caught his in the briefest of kisses, and then, she slowly parted from him.
Harry, dumbfounded, simply managed to stare at her, but nothing could prepare him for what came next.
A slap resounded in the air, as Hermoine's hand made contact with his cheek, and Harry nearly toppled over from the force is produced. Immediately, he straightened back up, and shocked, looked at Hermione.
"Goodbye, Harry," she whispered, and taking the bagful of belongings, she directed her steps to the door.
He watched, irresolute, as the door closed behind her, and heard her descending down the staircase. For the first time in a while, Harry's head felt light, and suddenly, there was that something he felt earlier, but seemingly forgot about.
A thought suddenly hit him with the force of a thousand repelling jinxes. Was he going mad? Where had his reason fled? Hermione - Hermione was the woman he loved!
Grabbing his jacket from the rack, and hastily putting on a pair of shoes, he dashed out of the flat, not even bothering to close the door behind him. Running down the hallway, he crashed through the door at the end of it that led to the staircase, and literally jumped down the steps, several at a time.
He ran out onto the street, and skidded to a halt in the middle of it. Looking left, and then right, he turned again and again, looking for any visual sign of Hermione. Failing to find one, he dashed forward to one place, where he knew she might go.
Harry sped through the Leaky Cauldron, with the hastiness of a hurricane, and out into the dirty, small backyard that led to Diagon Alley. Tapping the appropriate bricks, he willed the archway to Diagon Alley to arrange itself faster.
"Mr. Potter!" Tom, the old barman, shouted after him, but Harry did not pay heed.
Instead, he ran tirelessly down the Alley, and at last, seemed to catch a glimpse of a familiar cloak.
"Hermione! Hermione!" he shouted, directing his gaze on the mane of curly hair, progressing through the crowd.
She did not turn around, but instead, hastened her walk. Dodging people, laden with goods, and watching not to upset anyone, Harry at last managed to catch up with Hermione.
"Wait a bit, won't you," he gasped for breath, simultaneously grabbing her wrist to make her stop.
"What do you want, Harry?" Hermione snapped at him, as she struggled to pry herself free of his hold.
"Sit still for a minute, and I'll explain," he attempted to calm her once more.
"Fine," Hermione said coldly, "you have one minute. Talk."
"Magical bonds!" Harry said quickly. "That spell - don't you remember?"
"No, I don't know what you're talking about," Hermione replied evenly, but there was a hint of interest in her eyes about Harry's declarations.
Frustrated, Harry ran his hand through his hair, and tried to think of another way to remind Hermione. Coming up with no new ideas, he sighed, and tried a last resort that was more instinctive than thought-out.
He placed his hands on both sides of Hermione's neck, and after a second's hesitation, he pulled her towards him. Letting his lips do the convincing now, he kissed her - hungrily, passionately, in a way that was uniquely theirs.
She did not force him away - completely oppositely in fact, she melted into the kiss and even responded.
People passing them merely smiled and pointed at them, but Harry did not care - Hermione was all that mattered at the moment.
At last, they drew apart.
"Nothing?" Harry asked anxiously.
"Harry?" Hermione said faintly, looking dazed.
"Yeah?" Harry answered, a bit more calmly.
"Oh, Harry," she said with a bit more strength, and dropping the bag she was holding, Hermione's arms flew around Harry.
Words failed Harry, and he embraced Hermione tightly, and with conflicting emotions swirling inside him, hoped that the worst of the turmoil between them was over…
A/N Wow, that was a long chapter…hope you liked it, and reviews are more than welcome. :D We wrap it up next chapter, and then there'll be epilogue to look forward to. ;)
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