The Broken Ones [ENG]

TACK ♥ ♥ ♥

Verkligen? ♥ Tack!
Haha, jag skrev Astoria som en person jag själv skulle avsky med varje liten fiber av min existens. Hoppas hon väckte den känslan!

Jag älskade att skriva flashbacken, hoppas det var fler som uppskattade den :3

Helt fantastiskt!!♥ Jag håller med om att Astoria var väldigt bra beskriven, och du är jätteduktig på att skriva dialoger!

DU SKRIVER SJUKT BRA!

Jag gillade flashbacken mycket, tycker den var så fint förklarad på något sätt. Måste också hålla med om att Astoria var perfekt beskriven, man fick verkligen rätt känsla av att läsa om henne.

Fantastiskt ♥

♥ på er! :*
ska börja på nästa kapitel nu

kom precis på att jag har känt dig sen typ 2010 (WHAT dude we're getting old), och du har verkligen utvecklats så mycket. Du var riktigt duktig då, men det är ingenting jämfört med hur bra du är nu. Du lyckas fånga alla karaktärer, dina beskrivningar är to die for och man vill aldrig sluta läsa. Jag är, 5 år senare, fortfarande så fascinerad över hur väl du fångar Ginny. Som jag skrev där uppe fångar du alla karaktärer riktigt bra, men alltså när du skriver om Ginny får jag gåshud; allt är perfekt.
Vill aldrig att det här ska ta slut vill bara läsa och läsa, är så stolt över att kunna kalla mig själv ditt no. 1 fan för den här fanficen är helt magisk

("So why couldn’t she stop herself from crying?" d enda jag kunde tänka på var molly sandéns låt why am i crying HAHHAHAHA)

((och ÄLSKADE flashbacken omg jag grät typ den var så perfekt))

HAHAHA kommer du ihåg i The Crash of Life när jag citerade Molly Sandéns då nya album i början varje kapitel HAHAHAHA läste om den i somras och dog

For real though: ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥
Din kommentar gav mig åldersnoja, men den gjorde mig också såå rörd. Verkligen. TACK så mycket, ska spara den här kommentaren för evigt. ;______;

♥ ♥ ♥


till alla andra som inte bryr sig ett skit om min och Cindys sentimentalitet(hatar att stava det ordet -.-); Jag har fått in värsta skrivarflowet?? Tycker jag själv. Haha. Nej men jag har kommit en rejäl bit på första kapitlet på bara en kväll i alla fall!!

Bevakar

♥ Jag känner mig hedrad.

Jag har, som sagt, blivit klar med kapitel 9! :*
Tack för att ni läser och har tålamod med mig, igen, även om jag inte publicerar så ofta. Är borta i helgen så kommer inte ha helgkvällarna att skriva på, har tre prov i veckan... lite så Men jag skriver som sagt. Alltid. Älskar att skriva den här fanfictionen. ♥



Chapter 9; Boyfriend/Girlfriend Issues

“What are they doing to her? What happened? Is she going to be okay? Please, give me some answers!”
The St. Mungo’s nurse, or Ella, as her name tag said, turned around at the sound of a lightly hysterical voice. She was a patient woman – a quality earned after twenty years at this hospital, calming frantic and panic-stricken friends and relatives down. But she wasn’t very keen on famous people. She detested them for having more money than her, when the greatest accomplishment they’d ever had was being born into a wealthy family. The man running after her was Britain’s most famous wizard, but Ella saw him as the most annoying thing in existence since mosquitoes right now.
“I’ve told you the answers to your questions a thousand times already, Mr. Potter.”
“I didn’t quite catch them. Can you please repeat it?” The emerald green eyes enlarged, looking like a puppy’s. It didn’t suit him.
“And will you leave me alone if I do so, Potter?”
“I just want to know what’s going on. What are they doing to my fiancée?”
“Ex-fiancée, Potter. I read the news.” Ella crossed her arms and wished she’d been taller – Harry towered over her, which made looking down on him much more complicated. “Ginny will be okay. Your friend was quick to bring her here, which probably saved her life. We have our best healers working on her. She’ll be okay.”
“When can I see her?”
“When the healers are done.”
“And when is that?”
“We’ll tell you. Please wait here. And stop screaming, for Merlin’s sake. Potter.” She said the last word like it was some ugly disease, and walked away as fast as possible.
Harry collapsed on a very green and very uncomfortable plastic chair, and tried to keep himself from crying.

Why, oh why, did he have to be such an idiot? Why could he never keep his priorities straight or say the right things? Why could he never listen when he needed to listen, talk when he needed to talk? Did he have to be such an immature, insensitive, piece of crap? All this had led to him losing Ginny. It had led him to losing the woman he loved most in the whole world, the woman who made his heart beat faster every time he saw her. He had lost the only one who saw him for everything he was, all the little details about him, the only one who loved them all… Had loved them all. He had lost the scent of all the flowers in the world, blended together in a mesmerizing symphony.

And it was his fault. He was the one who had lost himself in auror-training, sleeping at the Ministry just to get the chance to train more. He had wanted to excel, had wanted to show that this position was something he’d earned. Harry didn’t want to be seen as the guy who killed Lord Voldemort because it was fate. He wanted to be good for real. So he had trained, had put all his energy into it, and almost forgotten about life outside. There had been days where he hadn’t said a word to Ginny. He would forever despise himself for that, but it still wasn’t enough.

She did the right thing, breaking up with him. She was too good for him. She was too good for everyone.
And now she’d done something risky without him being there. She’d done something so risky it had almost killed her. And Harry hadn’t been there to save her.
He was so tired of crying at this point. Was there really no spell to ease the pain of a broken heart?
xxxxx

Draco Malfoy had been crying, too. The panic attack had come from nowhere this time. His day had been going just fine, he’d both slept and eaten well, he hadn’t drunk too much alcohol or made himself throw up. He hadn’t seen Astoria. In fact, none of the things that would normally trigger his anxiety had occurred.
Bob had told him panic attacks worked like that. They came whenever you weren’t expecting them, an unwelcome and unpleasant guest. But Draco had always been able to link them to something.
Not this time, tough. He had been reading when it started, feeling relatively relaxed and content. And then he felt his heartbeat speed up, felt his breathing quicken, and known immediately what was going on.
His breathing had been in control for an hour now, but he still didn’t dare to move from his fetus position on the tiled bathroom floor. He had a mysterious feeling about something being seriously wrong, but lacked the ability to tell what it was. Plus, he was probably imagining it. An insensitive little useless brat like him had no sixth sense. Yet this feeling was so sharp, so conspicuous. Something was wrong, but it had nothing to do with him. Something was just wrong and he had no idea about what it could be.
Out of nowhere, a transparent silver otter stood in front him. It glowed of the golden light that told him the patronus wanted to deliver a message. It confused him.
What could anyone possibly want Draco Malfoy?
xxxxx

“I need to visit Ginny Weasley”, Draco told the receptionist at St. Mungos. “Can you tell me where she is?”
“Good luck”, said the receptionist, a man in his late fifties with a terrible haircut. “She’s unconscious and is already accompanied by three people, which is two more than allowed. “ He sighed at Draco’s impatient look. “Fourth floor, spell damage. But be prepared…” Draco didn’t hear him finish the sentence, since he was already halfway up the stairs.
He stopped abruptly when he reached the fourth floor. His thoughts had been everything but clear while apparating here, and he had not given a single thought to the fact that Ginny Weasley was famous.
There were journalists everywhere. They were eyeing him curiously, their evil little brains working on headlines and scandalous, best-selling articles. He could see the healers were upset – they seemed to be muttering both insults and threats to the unwelcome guests while making their way through the corridor – but they were apparently temporarily unable to chase the journalists away.
Draco was just making plans for how he would sneak into the toilet and disguise himself as someone else before walking through that crowd, when he saw a highly familiar person get out of the well-guarded patient room. Harry Potter looked like he was in dire need of both sleep and privacy, and from what Draco could hear behind the shaded glass doors, he said some pretty ugly words to the journalists and even made an inappropriate hand gesture – which, of course, was photographed. Then he started walking towards Draco. Shit.

He wanted to escape, but was petrified of fear. What would he do? What would he say?
“Draco”, said Harry when opening the glass door. He looked confused, which made his deplorable face look even dumber. “What are you doing here?”
“Ehrm”, answered Draco. “Just… just visiting my uncle. I just realised I’m at the wrong floor. Sorry.” He ran down the stairs before Harry had time to question him.

xxxxx

The healers at St. Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries had truly earned their reputation about being the best in the country, Ginny thought when she left the hospital a week later. She was fully recovered apart from memory loss – she did not remember anything from the visit except just how painful the curse had been – and some dizziness and nausea when moving too fast. With recommendation of another week’s bed rest, and company to make sure someone could get her to hospital if she got worse, she was sent home.
The company part was easy. She was part of the Weasley family, after all. After some discussion it was decided that she was to temporarily move back into The Burrow again, spending a week being doted on by her mother. She had nothing to object. Except from the fact that she really, really wanted to send an owl to Draco. And the constant super-vision she was under made that… difficult.

It was the third day of Ginny’s week with bed rest and company. She was positioned in her favourite sofa, the one with the run-down green leather in The Burrow’s living room. The pillows and blankets surrounding her were too many to count, her tea was hexed to hold perfect drinking temperature as long as she wanted, and she was trying to reread one of her favourite books. It should’ve been perfect, but was far from being so.
First of all, she hated green tea, which Molly Weasley tended to forget every once in a while. Second, the words on the page in front of her kept blurring together, the letters switching places and dancing around. Third, the blankets made her too hot. Four, George was snoring with such a volume it would’ve awoken a hibernating bear and wasn’t making a very amusing company. She wanted to stand up, walk away and get something, anything, done – but she was forbidden to and the restlessness killed her.
Ginny Weasley was planning to kill Astoria Malfoy. Not only for the things she did to Draco, put for this spell and the damage it had caused Ginny. Even if she managed to stand up for a second, the world would immediately start to spin and cause her to collapse on the floor. The fit quidditch player who beat her older brothers in arm-wrestling felt weak, and it was a feeling she despised. Yeah, she would definitely kill Astoria for this. As soon as she was able to stand up by herself.

“How are you, Ginny?” Angelina was coming downstairs, probably after a nap in George’s old bedroom.
“No dramatic changes. Tired, dizzy, and restless at the same time.” She made a half-smile. “And how are you?” She gestured towards Angelina’s bowling ball-sized baby bump.
“Want to know the details, huh?” The mother-to-be sat down in a mismatched armchair next to her sister-in-law.
“Rather not. I already get nauseous if I think too much. Details about twin pregnancy might actually make me throw up.”
“Trust me, they would.” She made a deep sigh and leaned further back into the arm-chair. “My back pain is killing me and I just want to sleep through the day. And the smell of your green tea is awful.” She crinkled her nose and made a quick movement with her wand. “There. I know you hate it anyways. Want to talk about something to keep me awake? If I don’t stay awake now, I won’t sleep tonight either.”
“I have boyfriend issues”, said Ginny.
“Tell me about it. Harry is still crazy in love with you and you broke up with him because apparently, you weren’t. And he’s the wizarding world’s most famous man. Plus, he’s rich. Now that’s issues.”
“Thank you for your supportive pep talk.”
“Anytime.”
“I know I did the right thing”, said Ginny and realised she was probably high on painkillers. Spilling secrets normally didn’t come this easy to her. “I don’t love him like that anymore. I didn’t want to marry him, and I probably never really wanted to. But I still can’t be sure if I really made the right choice, or if if I was just acting on impulse like some maniac. And there’s other difficulties in this mess – I’ve seen someone else, someone I really shouldn’t be seeing, and our relationship is not in any way romantic but people might think it is. Also, if the press finds out, Harry would be really hurt by it. Everyone would be upset. I can’t take that, but I have to help him and he brings out something in me and it’s all just so complicated.”
She took a deep breath, waiting for a response she never got. Angelina had fallen asleep again. Ginny felt a tear roll down her cheek without her knowing why, and realised that was her cue to sleep. Maybe it would all feel better when she woke up.

xxxxx

In another part of London, Draco Malfoy sat in the wardrobe he was so used to spending time in.
He must’ve spent the night there, even though he could not remember it. His back and neck hurt from the disturbing sleeping position, and he was in severe need of an anti¬-hungover spell.
But otherwise, he felt okay. Good, even. He was clueless why.
Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe he was still drunk. Maybe it was just his emotions acting as ambidextrous and unreliable as ever.
He coughed loudly. He had his second appointment with Bob in an hour, according to the magical watch on his wrist. Might just as well get it over with.

Astoria had been waiting for him. She opened the door immediately, allowing Draco to stagger out on his own.
“Hi, Draco.” Her poker face showed no emotion, but Draco, who was so used to this face and recognized it so well, could sense both anger and fear.
“Astoria.”
“You’ve been bad, Draco. Bad. You have not stopped meeting with Ginny Weasley. I suspect that you’re living with her. I'm going to punish you for that” She kept her poker face, and leaned her body against the wall. It was probably supposed to be sexy, and perhaps many would find it so, but Draco didn’t. Not anymore.
“Get your facts straight, Astoria.” It was a whisper, weak and doubting.
“Excuse me?”
“Get your facts straight.” Louder this time.
“Oh, Draco, darling.” She laughed, that poisonous laugh that he’d come to hate. “You’re so wrong. You don’t understand the world. This is how it works; you’re mine. You will always be mine.”
“No.”
For the first time in his life, due to reasons he would never understand, Draco was the one who hit first.


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Som sagt, ni är bäst. Tack så hemskt mycket för att ni läser och kommenterar, ni gör mig så glad varje gång jag lägger upp ett nytt kapitel ♥

Så grymt bra! Älskar det!

Asume!!!