The Broken Ones [ENG]

aww, tack! Ska lägga upp mer där också

Har lite svårigheter med att publicera detta kapitel.. min katt har nämligen SOMNAT i mitt knä och jag kan inte röra mig för mycket, haha. Men allt för er, käraste läsare ♥

Det här kapitlet är awesome. Faktiskt. Hoppas ni håller med!





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Chapter 10; Spilled secrets

It was the day of the week when the population of London’s centre reaches its maximum, when all the tourists invade every national monument – at the same time as families try to amuse their kids, teens hang out with their friends and all the other Londoners run their errands with a serious face and determined steps. The autumn sun shone bright over Westminster, giving London a rare but beautiful autumn day and maybe the last weekend without winter coats and scarves. It was one of the finer days in the history of England’s autumn weather, Ginny thought as she made her way down Oxford Street, bumping into people every other step. She could feel a slight warmth from the sun on her face, and found herself dreaming about a long and nice quidditch practice in this weather. Even a run for herself in the woods would be enough to satisfy her. But even if free from obligatory bed rest, she was unavoidably suspended for all training another two weeks. She’d added it to the list of things she would hex Astoria for when she got the chance - the list was nearing a novel by now.
But even suspended from training and mildly annoyed by the crowd, Ginny was in a good mood when she arrived at the Starbucks where they’d decided to meet.

Draco caught her eye immediately, waving enthusiastically towards her from a table for two in the back of the café. She waved back, getting in line to order. She scrutinized the other guests as she waited for the barista to take her order, hoping not to find a face she recognized, and let out a sigh of relief when she didn’t.

“I got your owl”, said Draco as she sat down with her pumpkin spice latte. Coffee that tasted like pumpkin was one of the weirder muggle inventions she knew of, but it was also one of the tastiest.
“Good”, she said. “Took me some time to send it. How have you been?”
“Just fine.” His mouth twisted a little, like he wasn’t telling her the whole truth. “I’ve had two meetings with the psychologist. Talked about Astoria.”
“Also known as your wife who more or less tried to kill me.”
“Uh, yeah.” Draco fingered at the patterned scarf he wore around his neck, like he was trying to hide something there. Maybe he was. “Look, I’m really sorry about that… More than sorry. I’m furious. For real.”
“Then we’ve got something in common.”
“Look, Ginny, I know you say that you want to help me, but I get it if you’ve changed your mind. I don’t know how you’re supposed to help me, and I’m starting to wonder if you know it yourself.” His coat was a little too short, and she couldn’t help but notice the way too many and way too red scars visible underneath it. She felt a sting in her heart as she did so.
“I guess I don’t.” She picked mindlessly at her muffin, forgetting to actually eat the crumbles. “But I still want to. Help you, I mean.”
“Do you have some kind of save-all complex? Some desperate wish to be a hero?”
“Neither”, she said instinctively. “I don’t know. All I know is that I care an awful lot about you, and I have no idea why.”
“I guess I can say the same.” He sipped his tea, and Ginny tried not to stare at his face as he did so. She realised new features about him every time she saw him, cheekbones and jaw and eyes and hair and…
Merlin’s beard. She couldn’t look at him like that. He was just a friend. They shouldn’t even be friends. And yet she did, look at him like that.
“Are you staring at me?”
“No! No, of course not.” She shook her head in denial. “My mind just wandered. Can we talk about something else, before I get a headache?”
“Like?”
“Like Quidditch. Did you hear about the Chudley Cannons latest match?”

The muggles who wandered past them saw nothing odd with the couple, and gave them no extra looks. Maybe did they think that the man was a little too skinny, that the woman’s face was unhealthily pale, but overall, they minded their own business, a well-evolved mechanism of humans. None of them saw anything weird with the redhead and the blond, skinny and undeniably good-looking man.
Rita Skeeter, currently in her beetle-form, and her photographer, were the only ones who did.

xxxxx

In another part of London, Luna Lovegood was getting off a train, accompanied by her good friend Rolf Scamander. They’d been away for months, researching – well, they’d been supposed to, anyway. Plenty of research had been done, but the co-workers had also taken the chance to get to know each other better.
It had been the best months ever in Luna Lovegood’s life, and she knew Rolf felt the same way. To say goodbye to him at King’s Cross and take the tube home by herself – it was more burdensome than she’d ever imagined it to be.
She needed to sleep. Desperately and immediately did she need to fall asleep in her own bed, her own apartment. As wonderful as the months with Rolf had been, living in an old cabin in the middle of nowhere, had been, she’d felt homesick every now and then. She missed Ginny, and Harry, and Ron, and Hermione.
“Home, sweet home”, Luna said to herself as she opened the door to her apartment. The feeling did however pass very quickly.

Something was wrong. The smell – it was a completely different one. The apartment smelled of cologne, of bacon – which Luna the vegetarian found utterly disgusting – and most of all, alcohol. She could even sense a weak trace of the irony smell of blood.
And the apartment was a mess.
It had been messier, of course. Luna had her own way of organising and wasn’t exactly the cleaning type anyways. But this, this was someone else’s mess. The apartment had been in perfect order when she left it, thanks to some very efficient cleaning spells Hermione had taught her. Now the bed was undone, showing traces of a body. There were books scattered over the whole apartment, newspapers, odd bits of parchment with writing on them, half-empty glasses of water and dirty plates, even clothes. None of the items were Luna’s.
Ginny was the only owner of an extra-key to Luna’s apartment. She had a few things to explain, Luna thought as she dragged a plastic bag filled with bottles of a clear liquid out from underneath the sofa. She didn’t really recognize the brands, but she had her guesses. All of them related to alcohol, which a quick sniff at one of them confirmed.
Every trace of her exhaustion was gone in the blink of an eye, and it was a furious Luna that wrote a letter to Ginny and sent it via her owl, Crankie. She sunk down on the blue carpet to try to calm herself, petting the bronze raven on the head.
“Can you tell me who’s been staying here?” she asked the raven.
“Dra…” The raven’s voice creaked, hoarse from not speaking for months. “Dra..co.. Mal…foy.”

xxxxx

Draco Malfoy was, perhaps luckily, not planning on sleeping at Luna’s apartment that night. He and Ginny had abandoned the crowded café after an hour, realising the evil glares they got probably meant that other people wanted their table. They were now having tea in Ginny’s apartment instead, chatting and laughing and discussing both easy and more serious subjects.
“Have you heard that rumour about Pansy Parkinson and Zabini?”
“What was your record for staying awake in Professor Binns classes?”
“I missed you like crazy last week.”
Draco talked a little about his therapy while Ginny listened respectfully. Ginny told him a little about why she’d ended it with Harry, and Draco listened with just as much respect.

He knew how illogical it was, but he still thought about how he’d never been able to talk as freely and easily as he could with Ginny. A blood traitor from Gryffindor, ex-fiancée of his enemy, now his best friend. She gave him power and support through just a look, made him a better person every time she entered the room.
He wanted so bad to express these feelings, but they seemed to be one of the very few things he couldn’t tell her.
xxxxx
The owl interrupted them in the middle of a discussion about whether treacle tart or pumpkin pie was the best dessert. The discussion had almost turned into a debate by now, but they were laughing hysterically nonetheless. Ginny, a pumpkin pie fan, thought the fresh and naturally sweet fruit mixed with the crumbly pie shell to be a winning concept, while Draco insisted on the exaggerated sweetness of treacle tart. The debate was far from serious, but Ginny still felt upset when the owl disturbed it. The envelope said ‘Read Immediately’ in Luna’s handwriting, and the owl looked to stubborn for even Ginny to disobey. She excused herself and went into the kitchen to read it.
As she did so, and understood what she would have to do, her heart broke into a million pieces.

“I thought you had quit drinking.”
“I… what?”
“You said you weren’t drinking anymore, but the true owner of your temporary man cave is back and she wasn’t thrilled to find a plastic bag with muggle alcohol under her sofa. She wasn’t very happy to find any belonging of yours, I might add, but that’s my problem.”
“I… I’m sorry, Ginny.” Draco’s voice was so quiet it was barely audible.
“So am I.” Silence.
“So… what happens now?” Draco asked, just as quiet, after what felt like an eternity’s worth of not talking. Ginny handed him the letter.

“Oh, and Ginny, if you still want to stay friends with me, cut that man out of your life. I know he’s no good. He can come to my apartment if he wants his underpants and his abominable alcohol back.”

xxxxx

And that was the explanation to why Draco once again found himself curled into a ball in a dark side alley, with a coat that had been too cold in early September and henceforth felt even worse in early October. The sky was sharing his grief, emptying itself in buckets, and the little piece of roof he had to hide under was not enough to fully guard him against it.
He had almost forgotten the feeling of this, and couldn’t understand how. Of course he would end up here again, of course it was his inevitable fate. Everything good in life is temporary.
He wished he could contact Bob. He wished he could contact anyone who wasn’t Astoria.

He rummaged in his backpack and found a bottle of vodka, hexed to be invisible when anyone but him searched the bag. He uncapped it and helped himself to a sip of the clear liquid, and another and another – but it didn’t fill him with the warm contentment it usually did. It just filled him with disgust and self-loath. Pathetic, worthless, mentally disturbed, alcoholic Draco Malfoy who destroyed every chance he got to turn his life around.
He had no razor blades in the bag, but if he used his nails to scratch himself really hard, maybe that would help to soothe him.

xxxxx

In another part of London, Ginny Weasley was desperately trying to fall asleep, and she was doing everything but succeeding.
It was not that she wasn’t used to sleeping alone – her new bed weren’t even made for two. It was not that her bed wasn’t comfortable enough, or that she was too energetic too sleep, not that she didn’t want to and not that her sleeping pattern had gotten out of hand.
She had never really had any issues with sleeping before. It was a personality trait she shared with all her brothers, always had, except for the last month. The last month had been something else. A nightmare, if you wanted.

Her brain, in dire need of sleep but unfortunately as stubborn as the rest of her, just wouldn’t quit thinking. It especially refused to quit thinking about the subject she least wanted to focus on. A frantic Luna had been to visit her just an hour earlier, more enraged than Ginny had ever seen her.
Luna had told her, face to face this time, to immediately cease helping “the awful, awful man to who you will never owe anything”. Ginny had tried to explain, tried to make her friend understand that there was more to the story, but it had seemed an impossible quest even for her, the convincing debater who’d practised the art of making her voice heard since birth.

She had two choices, according to Luna. Forget Draco and lose Luna as a friend, or forget Draco and stay friends with Luna. A ten year old friendship was worth more than a month old one. Weren’t it?

Her thoughts told her otherwise as she heard the rain hit her window in an arrhythmical melody. It reminded her of when she’d first found Draco, the night that had been her last good night with Harry – the night something inside of her realised how unappealing she really found their relationship. It had been the night with a whisper of unpredictable echoing through her brain, and the night that changed her forever.
Helping Draco had not become less illogical over the past month. It had only become more of a routine, more natural, and she’d grown to care for him much more than she had wanted and expected to.
She wished she was skilled enough to perform the magic that separates memories from your mind. Most of all, she wished there existed an equivalent with your feelings.

It was the middle of the night, a pitch black sky and a chilly temperature outside, and Ginny Weasley officially declared herself an idiot when she got out of bed, pulled a sweater over her head and stuck her legs into oversized sweatpants, put on shoes and a jacket and apparated.

xxxxx

It was with her head full of dizziness that she arrived at a deserted Diagon Alley. The not quite full moon illuminated the street, giving it a spooky light that made Ginny feel queasy. She wasn’t half as confident now as she’d been last time she wandered the side allies of London.
Fear of burglars and rapists and Merlin-knew-what still made her keep a fast pace. She’d made up her mind, and there was no turning back.

Draco Malfoy sat in the same alley she’d found him the first time. She could barely see him at first - the night was a lot darker now than it had been in September. But as soon as she could make out the contours of his body, familiar to her even in a hunched sleeping position, her heartbeat quickened.
He didn’t notice her until she was right in front of him. His gaze was doubting, hesitant – like he expected her to scream at him.
“Come with me”, she said, trying hard not to make her voice quiver.
“Why? So you can insult me, tell me all the terrible things about myself I already know?”
“I’m offering you to come live in my apartment.” Draco snorted at that.
“Really? Why would you? Choose your friend over me, Ginny. Do yourself a favour. I won’t do you any good.”
Her heartbeat was acting like crazy now, beating and beating at an unhealthy speed.
“I’m not doing this for you, Draco. I’m doing this for me, too.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean that I need you.” She took a deep breath. “I mean that I can’t live without our discussions about quidditch and desserts, or your sense of humor, or without everything you’ve taught me about how people can change.” She grabbed his hand, ignoring the fact that it was both ice cold and dry. “Come with me.”

xxxxx

Harry Potter had slept poorly, and was therefore not in his best mood this early Sunday morning. Neither Ron nor Hermione was awake yet, and the house was quiet, but it was also peaceful. He would make coffee, butter a bread roll, and have a calm morning for himself while reading the news… an ideal Sunday morning, really. He tried to brighten his own mood with the thought of a big mug rich, hot coffee with just a splash of milk, no sugar, and newly baked focaccia. He was free from auror training and were to have a calm, pleasant Sunday. Harry had almost convinced himself this was going to be a good day, when he saw the magazine hiding under today’s issue of The Daily Prophet. It was Witch Weekly, the disgusting gossip magazine that Rita Skeeter never seemed to stop writing for, and it always contained a tremendous amount of false rumours about him, Ginny, Ron and Hermione. What could it be this week? He would have to read it to be able to correct people later, so he might just as well get it over with.

Harry Potter almost choked on his coffee when seeing the first page.
Then he read the article it referred to.
Then his whole world started spinning, and Harry fainted.

xxxxx

Ginny Weasley spotted with Draco Malfoy – WHAT CAN HARRY HAVE TO SAY ABOUT HER NEW LOVER??
It was in a muggle café that our source spotted the unlikely couple, chatting and enjoying each other’s presence. “They seemed really happy together”, says our anonymous source.
Has Harry Potter’s ex-girlfriend truly moved on? Has she switched type, or is she dating an old enemy of his just to upset him?
Rita Skeeter updates you on the latest happenings between The Chosen One and his Chosen Girlfriend, and takes you through the history of Mr. Potter and Mr. Malfoy. Read on to find out everything!

The article continued for four more pages, but Ginny lacked the energy to read any of them. She was sitting at the kitchen table with her head in her hands, analysing the possibilities for her and Draco to flee somewhere nobody knew them, but knew it would just make everything look even more suspicious.
Merlin, she’d screwed up bad this time. What would Harry say? What would her brothers say? Her family? Her colleagues? This was too bad to be true, but there the article was and she was expected to deal with the consequences. Great, just great.

“What’s happened?” Draco had entered the kitchen, barely awake with a gravelly voice and his blonde hair in a mess. Ginny passed him the magazine, and he started reading, his expression shifting between surprise, fear, and maybe a weak glimpse of happiness, but she could’ve imagined that.
“This is ridiculous”, he said when finished, and sat down on the kitchen chair next to Ginny. “I’m not your lover. You’re a friend, you’ve helped me a great deal and kind of saved my life, but you’re not my lover.” He said all this really quickly.
“Exactly! There’s nothing between us, right?” She gave the article a frustrated look and then met his gaze.
“Nothing”, Draco agreed.
“Absolutely nothing.”

It was a moment of absolute silence, like time stood still. Then Draco leaned forward, and Ginny did the same, and neither of them could think very clear as their lips met in a mesmerizing unification.

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...ooops.
Okej, ärligt nu, did y'all like it??
Jag insåg själv att det kanske gick lite fort på slutet men jag hoppas att ni kan stå ut med det. Är ledsen för det!

Ha en fantastisk helg, kommentera gärna, ni är bäst ♥

Alltså. KEEP ON WRITING PLEASE!!!!!
Pallar inte hur bra du är : ///

Pallar inte hur snäll du är // ♥♥♥♥♥♥


Hahah woooo!! Tack :*

Om det var något citat eller någon del som ni älskade extra mycket, please tell me!!


Måste dessutom veta hur ni känner för Draco och Ginny? Really, what's your opinion? Kommer det hålla eller kommer det sluta i kaos?

DU MÅSTE SKRIVA EN BOK!!!!!!!!!! NU!!!!!

Alltså åååååhhh vilket ska man välja???
Tar detta:The not quite full moon illuminated the street, giving it a spooky light that made Ginny feel queasy
Och detta: “Why? So you can insult me, tell me all the terrible things about myself I already know?”
Och allt annat xD
Det kommer kanske bli kaos, eller i alla fall drama, men det håller tillslut ♥

Åhh vad bra du skriver!!
Jag älskar alla detaljer, typ om den där diskussionen om pumpkin pie eller treacle tart, när Lunas uggla kom, eller typ första stycket. Du får en verkligen att leva sig in i det du skriver och jag älskar det.
Also!! Luna!! ♥3 Men snälla få henne att acceptera Draco för Luna och Ginny kan inte vara ovänner : ((
Jag tycker så himla synd om Draco och jag vill bara krama honom typ ... Han är så precious och det är så jobbigt att se honom må så dåligt, usch.
Jag älskade att du tog med Rita Skeeter också, och artikeln!
Och jag shippar verkligen Draco och Ginny. Jag har aldrig någonsin gjort det innan men du skriver sådär jobbigt bra så att en inte riktigt kan undgå det haha. Och jag hoppas verkligen att det kommer att hålla och att de kommer att leva lyckliga i resten av sina dagar men det lär ju inte bli så : (((

Så, as you probably know, ja, jag håller jättemycket med om att det här kapitlet är awesome!!

“Exactly! There’s nothing between us, right?” She gave the article a frustrated look and then met his gaze.
“Nothing”, Draco agreed.
“Absolutely nothing.”

It was a moment of absolute silence, like time stood still. Then Draco leaned forward, and Ginny did the same, and neither of them could think very clear as their lips met in a mesmerizing unification.

MEN JAG ORKAR INTE!! Den sista meningen... Jag tror jag drömmer.
SO (ursäkta språket) FUCKING AMAZING!!!! Alltså "did ya'll like it?" - NO, WE LOVE IT.

Har snart inga kommentarer för detta är obeskrivligt bra.

Snälla låt Luna acceptera Draco : (( Breaks my heart att Luna inte förstår : ////

♥♥♥♥♥♥

sanna1324567 emm!z yerAwizardTheaPiggelinisen ; you're making me cry </3 Jag blir så glad!! Verkligen.

Har inga ord jag heller, ni är så fina ♥ ♥