A/N: First things first, THIS STORY IS A ROMIONE and NOT A DRAMIONE.

As always, big thanks to callieskye for her fantastic beta work. This chapter now has an extra 1K words of R/Hr which I sincerely hope you'll enjoy (while you cry ... Oops).

Special shoutout to some of my old readers who were with me while I submitted this the first time. nirdoodle, notsing, jroseley, ObsessedRHShipper, who have been regular reviewers for the previous draft and are now kind enough to read it again. Love you guys! I still look forward to your reviews.


Chapter 9: Conflicting Emotions

The soft glow of the lanterns, the cold breeze which held the hint of impending rain, and the silence of the night blending in with the aroma of Molly's cooking wafting through the open window could easily be the reason why Hermione was suddenly transported back in time to when her life was different, when she was a different Hermione. Or, maybe the surroundings had nothing to do with her misery at all. Perhaps the person who had walked away a while ago, without even a backward glance, was the reason.

She looked around the familiar backyard and it brought back a hundred bittersweet memories. Hermione might not have had a proper, carefree childhood, but at least, back then, her heart was still whole. Now there was a space in her chest that felt hollow. On days when she allowed herself to think of the past, she often wondered if she would ever feel whole again. This pain, the void in her life - all of it was Ron's fault.

Unfortunately, it was one of those nights again.

She stood at the table, her wand held loosely in her hand, not even aware anymore of the task she had to complete. After a while, she walked ahead and sat down on the stairs just outside the door to the kitchen.

The light breeze turned into a chilly gust bringing droplets of rain with it. The canopy fluttered and the hanging lanterns swayed in tune to create mesmerizing visuals of light and shadow. Hermione instinctively glanced ahead towards the trees where Ron had disappeared. Pulling her knees close to her body, she rested her forearms on them and tucked her head in. Unbidden, the tears she'd been fighting pooled and spilled over.

She was struck with a mélange of memories- the ones she struggled every day to shield her heart from. But her will had always lost to Ron, her resolve always faltered when faced with her love for him. She bit her lip and swallowed the sob back but more tears cascaded down, soaking the sleeve of her jumper. There was too much of his presence around, how was her heart suppose to fight this battle and win?

The past was supposed to be dead and gone, buried deep beneath the long years she had spent without him. And yet, here she was, outside his family home, her heart breaking while he had not even bothered to look back. All it took was the faint, yet familiar fragrance of his to blow away the years of dust; the wounds underneath were still raw and bleeding. Who was she fooling? She could never get over him. This was where she belonged. She sniffed and bit down her lips to hide the whimper that threatened to escape. Ron was breaking her all over again.

How could he hurt her this way? Who gave him the right?

She wiped the tears away indignantly but her eyes pooled again, almost immediately. Hadn't he already taken everything she thought was hers? She wiped her eyes once more to see the crooked building a little better. After Voldemort's appearance at the Ministry back in their fifth year, her parents had been sent into hiding by Dumbledore for their own safety. This very place had become her second home. Molly and Arthur had loved her as a daughter and never made her feel any different from Ginny. How could Ron take away not just her dreams but also her home and the people she had grown to love as parents? This was her family too. She buried her head in her hands and sobbed, trying her best to muffle the sounds. She had everything one could ask for, a home, a job and even a boyfriend- but underneath it all, she was living a facade. Her whole life was nothing more than an act. She was pretending to be in love, to be happy, to be over Ron- even to herself…

"Hermione!" called Molly, and she quickly wiped her face on the sleeve and cleared her throat.

"Coming!" she replied hoping that her voice didn't sound shaky.

She took a few minutes to steady her breathing and wiped her face again. Finally, she pushed herself off the steps, dusted the back of her jeans off and turned around, never noticing the shadow of the man hidden in the trees.

He had walked away from her.

At least his feet had the sense to carry him far from the place where her fragrance lingered in the air around him. His heart pulled him back, urged him to turn around to catch just one glimpse, but he didn't give in. No pain in the world could be greater than what he was living- to have her next to him and yet be so terribly far. Ron moved ahead, forcing himself to take one step at a time, increasing the distance between them till he was surrounded by the trees and hidden among them.

He had felt her eyes on him, searching and wondering, but he didn't have the right to look at her anymore, did he? No. He wasn't sure how he'd manage to hide his longing and pain if he met those eyes. But the truth was, Hermione didn't want any of it. Hermione didn't want him.

He decided his heart was safer with space between them and took a few more steps. But at the same time, he was utterly miserable without her. Had it been only a handful of hours since he'd met her at the park? It felt like ages. Before today, he'd been able to cling to the faint hope she'd take him back. Now there was nothing but a hopeless void. The morning seemed a lifetime away, and his life ahead- a long, unending night. How was he supposed to live with this regret? He almost wished he'd died when there was still hope.

Ron paused next to a huge tree and placed his hand on its ragged trunk and eventually turning to rest his back against the wood. There was simply no strength left in him to go on. His vision clouded with unshed tears which he tried unsuccessfully to keep in check.

Just one glance, he begged himself and found a gap among the trees through which he could see. Hidden in the shadows, he watched the girl who now sat on the steps, her knees pulled in close. His body shook with the effort of keeping his sobs in check. Ron reckoned it'd been awhile since he'd felt so helpless and weak.

In two days she'd go back to her life and he might never see her again. How would he go on with his life without her, knowing that she didn't want him anymore? The wind intensified and rainwater trickled down the leaves to soak him. And yet he stayed put- watching the girl sitting on the steps. Her thick ponytail hid her face, and the glow from the lanterns doused her with light and darkness in turn as they swayed in the wind. A hundred steps were perhaps all that separated them. He could easily cover that distance in a heartbeat to kneel in front of her, beg her forgiveness. But in reality, what separated them was a lifetime of regrets, a distance so vast that he could not cross nor do anything to make up for it. So, he waited instead, and watched her, hidden in the trees holding onto every second that he had with her in front of him. Who knew if he would ever have a moment like this again? He watched as she responded to his Mum's call and wiped her face on her sleeve. Hermione was supposed to be happy. Didn't he trade his entire life for her safety and happiness? He knew he'd walk away forever if that ensured her some peace. Perhaps he was hurting her with his presence? His feet automatically took him a few steps back. If Hermione was better without him around, he'd stay far away from her- no matter how much it hurt.

Hermione got up and turned around, Ron turned as well. Ignoring the thunder and intensifying rain, he walked deeper into the trees, far away from where his heart lay.

Later that night, once the unbearably merry dinner was over, Hermione was the first to excuse herself. It had been a long day, and she ached to get away from Ron. It didn't matter that he had arrived at the table late and drenched to the core. He had shrugged away from Molly's questions stating that he was only enjoying the rain. Hermione had kept herself busy, passing dishes and making small talk with the other Weasleys, anything she could possibly do to avoid hearing his voice. It got worse as the night progressed with everyone asking him about his plans and she finally made her apologies to Molly and said she was going to retire for the night. Hermione heard the conversation mellowed as she left her chair and turned away, she knew many pairs of eyes were following her. She turned around just once to wish everyone a goodnight and unbeknownst her eyes found him. He hadn't bothered to look up; he was busy drinking from his bottle of butterbeer.

She turned away before the angry tears made an appearance.

Hermione was quick to ascend the stairs and stopped only after she reached Ginny's bedroom and shut the door behind her. She stood close to the frame, one hand resting on the wood and groaned helplessly. Her chest felt constricted, like she couldn't breathe and was drowning.

"Why?!" she spat angrily at the vacant room and hastily brushed away the tears. "I hate you!" she mumbled before her voice cracked. "I hate you, Ron," she cried and crashed onto the bed face down. She was not supposed to break down, she told herself weakly, she was supposed to show him that she didn't care, was supposed to show him how happy she was without him! Sobbing into her pillow, she craved to get away although she wasn't quite sure why a stronger part of her seemed to have anchored itself within the Burrow. She couldn't leave but she couldn't stay either.

As footsteps echoed outside, she pulled off her shoes and curled herself in, facing the wall. With any luck, Ginny would assume she was already asleep..

Sure enough, a gentle tap sounded before the door open with a soft creak. She could make out the faint glow of the lamp outside fall near the foot of her bed.

"Hermione?"

She closed her eyes, careful to make no noise and hoped her breathing was in steady rhythm.

"Looks like she dozed off," Ginny whispered to someone, and Hermione found herself wondering if she was talking to Ron. No sooner the thought occurred than she hated herself for it.

"Yeah." sighed a male voice. Harry. " It's okay..."

She almost laughed bitterly at her stupidity. Of course, it had to be Harry. Why would Ron check on her?

The door was shut and Harry and Ginny's voices muffled before footsteps indicated they had returned downstairs. Hermione took the opportunity to wipe her face properly and steady her nerves. She was being nothing but a fool, she told herself. She was allowing Ron to win again. No, she decided, she wouldn't think of him again. As it is, she was doing wrong to her boyfriend by crying over her ex. It felt cold somehow, the memories of Draco and the time she had spent with him. The guy was really trying and Hermione hated herself a bit more. Draco was not new to her being miserable over Ron, but she knew he hated it. She pulled the covers over herself as unease flooded her veins. Despite everything, this place was her home, these people were her family. One day everyone would come to know the truth, about Ron and… about Draco. The realisation hit her hard and she shuddered.

Would they stay by her after Ron told them that he and Hermione weren't together anymore?

She drew in a deep, steadying breath. Of course, they would, she told herself fiercely. It wasn't like she had broken their engagement…

But Draco?

She had been alone and lonely, of her own choosing, when Draco had come into her life. Initially, it was good to be around someone who could take her mind off the constant fear. Eventually, she began to enjoy the casual discussions they had, even though most of it centred around their shared academic interests. The time she spent with him provided the much-needed respite from her memories of Ron. She wasn't even sure how or when it turned into something more than friendship. There wasn't any big moment when her heart fluttered or her senses tingled at his proximity. It was more along the lines of a deep-rooted need for companionship, something that they both needed desperately. They just found each other. And for the past three years, she believed that she could move on, believed that she had indeed moved on. Ron was out of her life, out of her system. She had gone with the flow, taking whatever life gave her, never asking for more. Never truly being happy. Moving ahead with Draco was the natural course from where she stood. But Malfoy Manor would never be what Burrow was. She shuddered again at the old memory, closing her eyes tight and gripping the cover between her fingers. Once upon a time, only Ron could pull her out from the nightmares...

She opened her eyes with a snap and exhaled soundly. No. She would not think of it. Ron's memories would have to stay buried.

But there was no shying away from the truth. Narcissa (if she accepted Hermione at all) would never be the mother figure Molly was. Lucius could die and be reborn but he'd never be even an ounce of what Arthur Weasley was.

Her chest hurt at the mess her life had become and she pulled all her strength to not give in to a fresh bout of tears. Draco was her present, and she'd have to sort her head for it would be that way. Draco was her future. A peculiar, uncomfortable feeling erupted within, an unease of sorts forewarning her that she was not doing the right thing. But she forced the feeling away. A promise was a promise.

The patter of rain had dulled. Hermione pushed away the covers and sat up on her bed, Then, with a determined sigh, she flicked her wand and the sole bedside candle lit. She picked up the candle stand from where it stood and went towards Ginny's desk. Pulling out a parchment and quill from the drawer she sat herself down on the chair. Athena, who had returned in the evening, hooted softly from her perch over the wardrobe.

'Dear Draco,' she wrote and paused. What was she supposed to say? She couldn't tell him about the turmoil in her heart. Afterall, he was away on a case and it was all about Ron...

'Where are you?' she wrote finally, 'Why haven't you replied to my previous letter? I really hope everything is alright at your end. Have you found something to help you with the case? Write back to me soon.'

She paused once again, her quill hovering over the parchment and dripping ink onto it. Why was it suddenly hard to write one single word? The quill made a vertical stroke but her hand seemed to be revolting against her will. Helpless, she overwrote it, hoping her best that Draco would not notice how 'L' was changed to 'M' . 'Miss you,' she signed off.

She took her time changing into her pyjamas. More alert than before, she could still make out the voices coming from downstairs. Once she was done, she blew out the candle and took her place on the bed again though sleep wasn't ready to bestow her with its presence yet.

Her life seemed to have messed itself up completely ever since she had met Ron at the park. It felt like it had been an unnaturally long day, one that had come quietly and shattered the walls she had built around her heart. Suddenly her past had crashed into her present with the force of a cyclone and left everything in disarray. She knew she had to get over Ron, move away- that was the logical thing to do. Then why was her heart being foolish and clinging to the past? She had spent the first three years after his disappearance crying over him, nursing her broken heart. Each day had been the same-agonising. She had lost count of the nights she had spent awake, searching for a justification for his bitter words. Every minute fearing for his life and hanging on every word the Minister said just to hear a word about him.

And now he was back but everything between them lay in shambles. As the exhaustion from the day finally began to take a toll and her eyes drooped, Hermione wondered where this short stay at the Burrow would lead her.

…...

Hundreds of miles away, Draco opened his window eagerly to let in her owl and hastily untied the letter, snapping it open to read. A few undelivered letters, all addressed to her, lay in front of him and he wondered if the tawny owl was fit enough to carry a triple load of mail.

He scanned through it quickly, and paused abruptly on the word 'previous letter'. He couldn't remember receiving one from her and not replying. In fact, he'd been worried that she hadn't written to him in two whole days. Coaxing the owl to move over the desk, he went through the tiny mountain of parchments in search of a sealed envelope. The tight scroll was almost at the very bottom of the pile. He opened it quickly, berating himself slightly while at the same time, pleasantly surprised at finding not one but two of her notes.

Dear Draco, (it read)

I hope all is well at your end, and you are closer to solving this case. Though in all honesty, I don't know how high the chances for that are.

Anyway, my case here is stuck with my witness still a mute guest at the hospital. I had to request a delay in the hearing. That leaves me with nothing much to do. Ginny has sent me a threat mail instructing my presence is required at the Burrow at the earliest. I have promised her I'll be there. In fact, I'm arriving there tomorrow and will stay until the wedding. Hopefully, I should be home after the wedding on Sunday.

Don't worry, I will be okay. You take care of yourself for me and come back soon.

Love,

Hermione.

PS. Address your letters to The Burrow, Ottery St Catchpole.

Whatever happiness he had felt on receiving not one but two of her letters left him completely, and he slumped down on the chair.

She was staying at the Burrow, and most likely so was he.

His heart gave a painful lurch as the green-eyed monster reared its ugly head. It wasn't as if he didn't trust Hermione. But a part of him that he had tried hard to ignore, knew what kind of hold Ronald Weasley had over her. He had spent almost two years seeing the girl he loved cry silent tears for the redhead. And on more occasions than one, he had been the one to lend her a shoulder when she cried over Weasley. He knew her feelings for Ron would never cease to exist. He would always be a part of her, be it in any form, love or hate, pain or anger. Ten years ago if anyone had told him that he'd be jealous of a Weasley he would have scoffed, offended even. And yet, that was the truth today. He was jealous, very jealous of Ron Weasley.

He pulled out a bit of new parchment and his quill, pushing away the annoyance.

'My Dear Hermione', he wrote, 'I'm sorry I missed the previous mail. Just found it though. I have been addressing my letters to your home and office all day today only to receive them back. Was starting to get worried. Anyway, I think I am close to solving this case, will tell you more when I see you on Sunday. Let me know as soon as you reach home, please? And do take care. Let me know if you need me anytime.'

The last bit was wishful thinking, and also a deep-rooted need for assurance. But would Hermione need him when she was surrounded by her family, he wondered.

'Love, Draco' he signed off.

He tied the letter to her owl and set her off. And then rolling back all his parchments, he called the house elf to inform that he was going out for a walk.

He needed fresh air and loads of it too…


Thanks for reading. As always, I'd love to know what you think of this chapter.