The Broken Ones [ENG]

He was irritating and pathetic, she was lovely and they were different. She was perfect and he was a mess, and it was best for them never to meet again./
It's a meeting on a train, leading to something that noone expected.
It's a story about putting yourself back together, when you think you'll never be whole again. It's about love, when you don't think you deserve it.




Heeej! ^-^

Jag skrev en fanfiction, för ett år sedan, som jag lade ner eftersom det pågick för mycket i mitt huvud just då.
För en månad sedan började jag tänka på den igen. Jag kunde inte släppa det.

Jag bestämde mig för att ta upp den igen.
Så nu har jag skrivit om det befintliga materialet, rättat språkfel och förbättrat kvalitén.

Och det skulle förstås vara väldigt, väldigt roligt om någon ville läsa den. ♥


Kapitel 1-4: Sida 1
Kapitel 5
Kapitel 6
Kapitel 7
Kapitel 8
Kapitel 9
Kapitel 10
Kapitel 11
Kapitel 12
Kapitel 13
Kapitel 14
Kapitel 15
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Prologue

Muggle trains.
She'd never been very fond of them. Not of the pathetically ugly design of the seats, not of the gloomy silence between the passengers, and not of the lack of happiness and glee. Muggle trains were everything the Hogwarts Express was not. No one seemed to be truly happy on muggle trains.
She was lucky, though – she rarely hade to ride them, since the magical world offered both brooms and apparition. Even so, sometimes muggle trains were the only alternative.

This time she was traveling to visit Luna down in Wales, where her good friend did some intense research on some new creature she’d heard of – Ginny hadn’t quite catched the name. She loved Luna, she really did and could never have imagined a better friend, but why Luna had to go to Wales of all places was a mystery even to her. It wasn’t just a short visit, either. Luna was staying there for six months, in a red little cottage in the middle of a deep forest, that no one had cared about since the 1970’s. It's roof was awfully close to falling apart – but her slightly crazy friend loved it. And, like the caring person she was, she had invited most of her friends to come visit her. Ginny was one of the few that didn’t decline the invitation, and here she was, on a train with a weirdly soft plastic floor, trying her best not to Bat Bogey-hex the man next to her.

He had spent the first hour trying to flirt with her in different ways, none of them appropriate and every new compliment worse than the other. He'd called her boobs for 'cute little kitten butts'. And as if that wasn’t enough, the man was also too drunk to sit upright. Ginny was actually starting to worry about him throwing up on her if the train made a sharp turn. The flirting was also very, very wrong in another way – she recognized the man next to her.

It was probably only due to his drunkenness that he didn’t recognize her, too – because this drunk man wasn’t just someone in the neighbourhood she'd met at the supermarket sometime. The slim, muscular body, the sharp face, the pale chin and the slick hair, so blonde it was almost white – she knew it all too well. She had met this man before, even if it was long since now, and she was almost a hundred percent sure of who he was. She really didn’t know how to react.
Because the man next to her was a man she'd wanted revenge on for a long time, revenge for all the things in their Hogwarts years. She'd only given up the thought because of Harry, who had convinced her to let it go, not letting it take up her time.
And she had decided to do so. Letting it go. She had succeeded.

But the man next to her was named Draco Malfoy. And he seemed to drunk to remember it himself.
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Konstruktiv kritik uppskattas! Eller bara kärlek. Eller hat, whatever you feel like.
Kram på er!

Denna fanfiction finns även på fanfiction.net här.
(Är Wattpad något som någon rekommenderar? Kan tänka mig att registrera mig och lägga upp den där också.)

Taggar människor från den förra tråden:
Ugglan Hedwig sanna1324567 Minihäst Elma00 T3DDY LauraTree luna lovegood 21https://www.mugglarportalen.se/#forum.php?topic=44390&page=9

Jag har saknat att läsa det du skriver!!

Dina beskrivningar är superbra (jag tyckte speciellt mycket om beskrivningen av Luna) och, till skillnad från mig, så lyckas du få in beskrivningar utan att en fastnar lite i texten. Applåder!

Applåder till typ allt annat också för du är mycket mycket bra på att skriva.

:* :*

Jag lägger upp Kapitel 1 och 2 här också, för att de finns på fanfiction.net. Sedan ska jag försöka publicera i samma takt!

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chapter 1; The Train Neighbour

”I recognize you”, said a very non-sober voice after half an hour of snoring. Ginny had been leaning her head against the glass window for a while, dreamily gazing at the rainy weather outside, getting lost in thoughts. She flinched when her attention unwillingly got drawn back to the man next to her.
“Huh”, she said, trying to avoid any trace of interest in her voice.
“You totally do, you know, I don’t know where I’ve seen you but I’ve totally seen you!” Said the blonde man, with a voice so enthusiastic you could think he’d found the antidote of cancer. He definitely wasn’t sober, and she was impressed he still could talk.
“That's impossible for me to know. Can you even remember your own name in such a drunk state?”
“Of course I can. Don’t be stupid.” Draco gave her a demoting look which she definitely had seen before. “You only get more and more alike the person I was talking about, but since you’re not behaving very well, I won’t tell you who it is.” He leaned back in the grey Manchester chair with his arms crossed, ignoring the fact that his strength pushed the chair back so much, the old woman behind him made an angry noise. Ginny scrutinized the train compartment, desperately hoping to find another seat, but this was a popular train and all the seats were occupied.
She really should’ve used another transport alternative, but Luna had become angry as soon as Ginny mentioned it. This project was very important, she’d said, and broomsticks or apparition would make the creatures annoyed and other researchers curious. You could say a lot of stuff about Luna, but Merlin’s beard, you could never say she didn’t take her research seriously.
So in her wish to be a good friend, she was hopelessly stuck on this train, and would be so for another three hours. Draco was snoring again, way too loud, but she still found it preferrable to the annoying company that was the alternative.

She wished she’d brought a book in her handbag. She had packed a few, but they were all in her other bag, placed in the other end of the compartment. All she had was a finished report about the Quidditch match between Chudley Cannons and Russian Roses – an English team, actually, consisting exclusively of old ladies that no one understood. They were quite terrible at Quidditch and got angry all the time, so the game could’ve been pretty thrilling, but it turned out to be just as tedious as Professor Binns classes. She'd been forced to imagine the old ladies playing in only their underwear and with clown hats to keep herself from falling asleep. She still couldn’t get the picture out of her mind, but wasn’t sure her boss would appreciate her including that in the report. It had been a tough job, not letting that vision influence her, but as she skimmed through it again, she thought she’d done an acceptable job.

She felt a well-known, warm sensation in her jeans pocket. The two-way mirror 3.0, a birthday gift from Harry, was telling her someone was at the other half of it. Ginny stood up, carefully climbed over Dracos legs, and made her way to the bathroom. She wasn’t quite sure that people would ignore someone having a public conversation with a mirror, and it was best not to risk it.
The train bathroom was quite clean to be a public one, and she sat down on the floor before answering the mirror.
“Hello, someone there?”
“Yes, definitely.” A face she knew very well showed up in the mirror. Harrys hair looked messier than usual – if that even was possible – and he looked exhausted, but still gave her a big smile.
“How’s the train ride going? Tired of muggles?”
“It’s fine, actually. I don’t mind them that much. The train ride is okay, I guess. Boring. And auror training?”
“Tough.” Harry reached for his water bottle and took a sip. “We’re at the toughest part of physical training, and they’ve probably changed routines since, but I really can’t understand how Mad-Eye and Kingsley got through this part. I’m going to start doing burpees in my sleep soon!” He shook his head and Ginny laughed at the picture her mind made up.
“Mad-Eye never seemed much of a fitness type to me, but what do I know, maybe he just hid his muscles under that coat...”
“Nobody knows.” Harry laughed. “I’ve had three hours of physical training this afternoon and I swear, there isn’t a part of my body that doesn’t ache.”
“Sounds lovely. How’s Ron?”
“I’m going to go check on him in a while, I think he might have fallen asleep while changing from his exercise clothes.”
“Say hi to him from me.”
“I will. When are you in Wales?”
“Two and a half hour. Luna is picking me up at the station, first we’re going by bus and the rest afoot. She really must be doing some interesting work, living that far away from civilization..”
“Says the country girl herself. Anything exciting happening on your train?” He yawned.
“Not really.” She didn’t feel like bringing up her train neighbour – she wasn’t necessarily sure it would improve the conversation. “I’m going to buy some dinner soon, that’s about it.”
“Yeah, well, I have to go. I have to cook dinner for us..”
“With cook, you mean microwave-hex.”
“Whatever. Still complicated.” Harry rolled his green eyes. “Hear from you soon?”
“Of course. I love you.” She smiled at the screen.
“I love you too.” Harry turned his mirror off and Ginny found herself staring at her own reflection again. Someone was banging at the door, angry about her errand taking too long. She had no choice but to return to her seat, next to the blonde man which company she so strongly wished to avoid.

When you were used to chocolate frogs and freshly baked cauldron cakes, the train cafeterias dinner alternatives seemed both dull and unappetizing. She was very, very close to asking the cashier where they kept their pumpkin pasties. Eventually she chose a depressing pasta salad with greyish pesto and crumbly feta cheese, paid for it without getting too confused about the muggle money, and made her way back to her seat. Draco still seemed to be sleeping - She silently thanked Merlin for the fact that the snoring part was over for this time, and took a bite of the pasta, careful not to break the featherlike plastic fork in two.
She'd only eaten four pieces of overcooked pasta and one piece of feta cheese when Draco Malfoy started to reveal small signs of consciousness.
“Great”, Ginny mumbled. Draco was making all sorts of weird noises, and the expressions on his face made her wish she owned a camera. Oh, what a sweet revenge for all the stuff this man did at Hogwarts… it really was too bad Harry wasn’t the revenge type.

“Hannah Abbott”, said Draco without warning.
“What?”
“That’s you, right? I remember you.”
“Hannah Abbott? Eh, no.” She wasn't sure if she should be relieved or disappointed about him having trouble with remembering her name.
“Dammit. I’m terrible at names.” The blonde man patted the gold ring on his ring finger. “When I’m drunk, I sometimes forget my wife’s name, too. I’ve called her a few times in that state, and she gets SO mad.” Draco didn’t seem to care the slightest that at least fifty other passengers heard everything he said. “Sometimes I call her Pansy, which seems to make her the angriest woman in town. Other names aren’t quite as bad, but she turns her mirror off either way. She’s such a bitch!” He laughed with his mouth wide open, and Ginny felt the odour of old beer and… other things. She considered giving him her toothbrush and toothpaste, but she would need it herself later. The disgusting smell grew stronger – Draco now had his face approximately 10 centimetres from hers, staring at her while obviously waiting for a reply.
“Maybe she doesn’t want you to forget her name. It’s actually very cold-hearted to forget the name of someone you’re married with.”
“That’s how it works if you like getting drunk. Which I do.”
“Uh-huh.” Ginny wasn’t an expert, but she felt pretty sure Draco had a problematic relation with alcohol. She couldn’t explain why, but a part of her certainly felt worried.
“The muggle shit can actually be better than firewhiskey sometimes!” He gave her a smile and she felt his disgusting breath again. The whole compartment were staring at them by now.
“I don’t drink much.”
“You're missing out.” A laugh and a smile again. Then he quietened, and his expression turned serious. Ginny tried to move as far away from him as she possibly could, but it wasn’t necessary. Draco had put his hand in his hair, making some sort of gesture that she figured was a thinking one.
“I’m hungry”, he said, after half a minute in that thinking-position. Then, before she had the possibility to stop him, he stuck his hand down in her food box and filled his hand with pasta. Ginny couldn’t do anything but stare. Now she sure as hell wasn’t eating that.
“What?” Draco had his mouth full of food, and he was ignoring it the same way little kids do. It’s barely okay for kids to stuff their face and talk with food in their mouth like that, with grown men it’s just disgusting, Ginny thought.
“That wasn’t very polite.”
“You weren’t eating it anyways.” He swallowed loudly.
“Yeah, well, now I’m definitely not. “ She pushed the box over to him, trying not to think about the fact that she was 1) giving away food like that, 2) giving it to Draco Malfoy. It really was too awful to think about.

___________________________________________
Chapter 2; Rainbows


Draco stayed quiet under the rest of the train ride. Ginny didn’t mind. The rain that had been pouring outside under a big part of their trip was over, and a magnificent rainbow had appeared instead. She watched the stunning light phenomenon, trying to capture its beauty in a picture her mind could save. She’d always had a thing for rainbows, had always admired their heavenliness. As a little girl, she always stopped whatever she was doing just to run out in the garden, just to be able to see that rainbow more clearly. She strongly remembered one specific time, when her family was having dinner together and a rainbow appeared – she had dropped her fork right on the wooden table and run outside. Leaving the dinner table without explanation was not appreciated – she went to bed hungry that night, but still didn’t regret her choice. Eventually, she'd learned to control the impulse a little, but every time she saw a rainbow occur, she had to stand still for a moment just to fully embrace its beauty. She had to.

Draco Malfoy liked rainbows, too. He had memories connected to them, both good ones and bad ones, but overall, he liked them. They stood out wherever they took shape, they didn’t have to blend in, and they never failed to be beautiful. Rainbows were so breath-taking, so real despite of the fact that they were only an illusion created by light.
Rainbows were of great use in metaphors – they’re only an illusion, but still exist, and their existence is noticed. They had quite a few resemblances with the monsters in his head.
The monsters no spell could kill, the monsters no words or actions could erase. He'd tried making them pleased, which explained the thin red scars on his underarms, but it didn't help. Eventually, he’d discovered that alcohol quietened them for a while, and he had welcomed that solution. He knew it was unhealthy, but it helped, and everything was better than listening to their high, sharp voices all day long – telling him how worthless he was, how worthless everyone thought he was, how extremely big his inadequacy was, how he should just die because no one would miss him. Maybe he looked pathetic when he sat there, by himself in a slovenly muggle bar at 1.30 AM, in the corner with a disgusting drink in his hand – but it was way better than the alternative. He could take the hangover, he could take his wife screaming at him, he could take it, because it told him absolutely nothing he didn’t already know.

Draco had never learned about these monsters at Hogwarts. He may not have paid very high attention in Care of Magical Creatures – in fact, the only thing he truly remembered from those classes was the time he almost got his arm chopped off. These monsters attacked from the inside, like a poisonous draught – but Snape hadn’t mentioned them, either. According to wizard knowledge and text books, monsters like this didn’t seem to exist. And yet, if someone would’ve asked him, he would’ve answered that they were the worst kind of all. No physical shape meant no chance to use Stupefy or Avada Kedavra. He had yet to find a spell that could help better than the ways he had. And no one would ever help him, because Draco Malfoy, who had once been a popular and admired boy in school, was both shy and lonely nowadays.

He looked out through the window and wondered if rainbows ever felt lonely. Probably not. After all, light clearly lacks feelings. He observed the woman next to him instead. He still couldn’t remember her name, but her flaming red hair was so beautiful when it spread out over her face. Her movements were so perfect as she leaned back into her chair, lost in thoughts. She was painfully attractive and hot and ravishing, but it was best not to think about it, because it didn’t matter. He was irritating and pathetic, she was lovely and they were different. Draco wouldn’t see her ever again. And it didn’t matter, because he could barely remember what he had said to her and he was still sure it had been horrible.
The unevitable headache was approaching, coming closer and closer, and he silently swore to himself to never get drunk again, already knowing how great he would fail.
The redhead was now reading something she’d written in a notebook the exact colour of her hair, and he desperately hoped that he wasn’t mentioned.
She was perfect in the way her hand gripped the pencil, in the way her brown eyes glittered when she did. She was perfect and he was a mess, and it was best for them never to meet again.

~3 months later~

When Draco Malfoy was a young boy, he had thought of Diagon Alley as something that never rested, never became empty or deserted. That’s because the young, blonde boy, still playing with toy broomsticks, only knew the Diagon Alley as the place his parents took him to when he needed new clothes. And young Draco had loved walking down the old and beaten brick stones, watching all the people rushing in and out from shops. His father would say Hi to some people, introduce Draco and his mother, and Draco knew that the people Lucius Malfoy said Hi to, they were people worth talking to. That’s what his parents taught him, and since most children believe their parents almost unconditionally until they reach a certain age, he believed it. He had been taught about the people not worth saying Hi to, the mudbloods and they were not to talk about, they were something unwelcomed, almost poisonous. Why they were different, he had no idea, but the people his father gave negative looks, those people were either mudbloods or blood traitors. The little boy had no idea about why there were differences in how you treat people on the street, but he still followed the rules.
Even if the little boy was unsure which people to talk to and which people to stare at, he had loved visiting Diagon Alley. It was alive, loud and noisy, wild and untamed, messy, happy and filled with different people. Diagon Alley was all the things the empty corridors he called home wasn’t.

The young boy that had existed so long ago could’ve never pictured an empty Diagon Alley, but twenty-three year old Draco knew better. He may prefer drinking at muggle bars where he could be sure that nobody knew him, but he always finished his nights at Diagon Alley.
It was 3.54 in the morning now, the alley was dark and all the stores likewise. It was cold, especially with only a thin men's coat, but the corner he'd found was safe from the wind.
It was 3.55 in the morning, and he knew that he could go home.
It was 3.56 AM, and every normal person would’ve gone home instead of staying in a dark corner of Diagon Alley, sitting cross-legged on the ground.
It was 3.57 AM, and his wife would be furious with him when he came home.
He wasn’t even drunk this night, he was just lonely and pathetic and really, really sad. Draco didn’t want to be home, he didn’t want more people screaming at him, he couldn’t, couldn’t take it. A lonely night in a corner of Diagon Alley could seem depressing, but to him, it was clearly preferrable to the alternative. The stones underneath him were not wet, but ice-cold nonetheless, and he shivered, thinking of the bed that awaited him at home if he was brave enough to go there. But he wasn’t brave enough – The odds that he would be thrown back out on the streets were too big, he didn’t have any explanation to what he had done, and he just couldn’t take the angry looks Astoria would give him. Couldn’t.
The moon still shone bright in contrast to the sky, and he wondered how long he would have to wait until dawn.

~

“Can’t be long until dawn now”, said Harry and gave the moving planets on his wrist a quick look. “We should head home.”
“You don’t have auror training tomorrow.”
“No, that’s exactly why I need to take care of my unfamiliar and abnormal opportunity to rest.” He laughed a little. “It’s not every day I have that.”
“I know. After all, I’m the one that stays up waiting for you.” She gave him a light kiss on the forehead, just a little to the right of the faded scar. They had shared a pleasant night out, laughing and talking and kissing, playing board games with Neville and Hannah at The Leaky Cauldron. They hadn’t even noticed how late it became until Hannah jumped up from her chair, telling the guests it was closing time.
Going straight home seemed boring, even though the night air of late august was chilly. A walk had seemed much more tempting, a chance to talk about the things they so seldom had time to talk about. With Harry’s auror training and Ginny’s reporter job, their conversations were often both quick and lifeless, handling only the most necessary subjects – what would they have for dinner, how was work, do you feel like staying awake or going to sleep. Five days a week. Then the weekend came and Harry wanted to catch up at sleeping, that was, if he didn't have extra auror training. Ginny was sick of it by now. But her family loved Harry so much, she did love him too, they had so much history and memories, shared the same friends and interests.
Sometimes it all just seemed so predictable. And she was happy with things that way. But something in her heart, so deep in that it did hurt to reach it, reminded her that predictable wasn’t always her favorite thing.
She liked predictable in the way of knowing that you had a home,money and a job, in the way of knowing that the people close to you were all healthy and happy, she liked predictable as in knowing there weren’t any wars going on in the wizarding world right now.
She just had a burning love for unpredictable every now and then.

“I’m exhausted”, said Harry when they reached the street where they had their apartment. “So I suggest we go home and sleep.”
“Do that”, answered Ginny. “I think I’m going to walk around for a bit, just to clear my head.”
“You’ll be fine without me? Your guardian?”
“Of course. You know very well that I can be my own.”
“If you say so.” He yawned, kissed her quickly, and started walking towards the entrance to their apartment. Ginny watched him every step of the way, and then, when the door slammed shut, she started walking the other way in a rushed pace.
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Myyycket text här nu. Tänkte bara lägga upp allt material så att det finns!

Åh vad roligt att läsa dina berättelser igen!
Det är helt fantastiskt skrivet, ingen skulle kunna gissa att engelska inte är ditt modermål!

Jag shippar inte Drinny egentligen, men förra gången lyckades du få mig att göra det ändå och med de här både trovärdiga och tydliga karaktärsbeskrivningarna lär det säkert hända igen...

Åh, tack så jättemycket! ♥ Det är verkligen himla fint beröm att få! Jag shippade inte Drinny innan jag kom på den här idén.

Jag har varit borta under helgen, men nu ska jag publicera resten av det som redan är skrivet. Allt kommer på en gång nu i början, men det kommer bli lite längre emellan nu. Vill bara publicera det material jag redan har först!

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Chapter 3; A meeting


Draco felt cold. Sharp, numbing, cold. The feeling had been distant at first, not taking up that much of his depressing thoughts, but its strength and intensity had grown over time. By now, he was shivering, his teeth slamming against each other in short and rhythmic pulses. He wished the thought of wearing something more warming had come to him earlier, but it was too late. All he had was a light, charcoal black coat, and it felt far from enough. He was cold, he was alone and his body screamed that there were simple solutions, alcohol could take care of this feeling, end it, deafen it all. But he had none, he was too weak to get some, and the exhaustion had begun to tear at his relationship with it. All Draco could do was wait – for time to pass, for morning to come, a morning that made his wife leave for work, leave their apartment to Draco.
He knew that they couldn’t go on like that forever, but it was a minor issue. Their relationship was so non-existent a relationship between two married people could be. An eventual divorce would, however, be the first one ever in Astoria's family, and Draco had tried bringing it up, but it never seemed to end particularly well. She refused – she would tear up, cry, scream at him. Say that he'd never survive without her. Blame him for all their problems.
Maybe she was right. Maybe he was the cause for all of them.
Draco knew that a divorce wouldn't matter to him. His boss at the ministry was very, very close to fire him due to the fact that he rarely showed up. The friends he once had were now distant to him, some of them strangers, even. His life circled around survival, different ways of it, and methods to deal with the pain. If he had the energy too care that day – some days he didn’t. Some days, even survival seemed meaningless to Draco.
~

Ginny felt the wind brush against her cheek every half-running step of her way, but the cold didn’t bother her. Actually, she didn’t feel cold at all, for she felt alive and free and she was clueless about her destination. She moved away from an unemptied garbage can someone had knocked over, slowed down when her heels made too loud noises, careful not to wake anyone up. After all, The Daily Prophet had their loyal spies everywhere, and she was a girl of many theories and tales. Harry Potter’s wife running down Diagon Alley in the middle of the night – That would be a great headline, and she knew it. She could take it. The only thing that mattered right now was getting to the place she didn’t know, the place she just had a mysterious feeling about. She knew she had to get there. She had no idea about why, and a part of her brain thought it absolutely ridiculous, but there was also excitement in her thoughts, and that lovely, lovely whisper about unpredictable.

The corners of Diagon Alley she now approached were unknown to her. Born into a wizard family, she had come her often ever since she was a baby, and she knew that diverging from the main street very likely ended up with an unwanted visit to Knockturn Alley, trying not to talk to the people offering you candy. It could also lead to some dark, mysterious corners of London, or just to the plain apartment areas. But unless you were a hundred percent sure about your destination, you stuck to the main road. That was the definite and absolute rule. You didn’t break it, and if you still felt the urges, you thought about the tell-off your mother would give you – a method the Weasley kids used often. The Diagon Alley rule was not meant for breaking.
Except for now. She had caught a glimpse of something moving a couple of metres ahead, and was now heading for it without even asking herself why. She knew she needed to.

~
Draco Malfoy was all of a sudden hearing sounds. It made him feel queasy, wondering if he was really going insane – hearing things, seeing things. They sounded like footsteps, which could have a natural explanation. It could be a shop-owner rushing past him in his way to the shop, but it was Sunday tomorrow and none of the shops opened early. He didn’t think it was muggle cops, the men and women with serious faces, scrutinizing looks and nice costumes, the men and women that got so angry with him the time he had been forced to admit he did not own a Muggle ID. They helped him with the process of getting one, and Draco now carried it in his wallet at all times. It was indeed a very smart way to get into bars without a Confundus charm. So he was thankful to the muggle cops, he really was, but them finding him in a deserted alley felt… bad. He hoped this wasn’t corners they controlled, because he was not sure if they belonged to Diagon Alley or to London.
It could be a manic shop owner, it could be a cop, or it could be another.. person like him. What sort of lunatic took a walk in deserted corners, in the middle of the night?
~
Click, click, and click. Her heels were making sounds as they repeatedly hit the rectangular stones of Diagon Alley, and she did not want to slow down now. She desperately hoped she wasn’t waking anyone up. She would’ve worn her usual basket shoes, but high heels fitted much better with the black, knee-long dress she wore for tonight. It was one of her favourite dresses, showing off the little curves she had in a satisfying way. Even if Ginny was your typical hoodie and jeans girl, she definitely enjoyed dressing up once in a while.
But it would’ve been better if she had skipped it tonight. The dress was indeed very lovely, but in combination with the heels and the bare legs, she could easily be mistaken for a young woman who had partied a bit too hard and now was too drunk to find her way home.
Ginny knew her way home. Her brain kept telling her it was late, that this was stupid, that she didn’t know the streets, that she should go home before Harry started worrying. But there was also another voice, one who told her that Harry slept too hard to notice anything. She could stay away till morning if she felt like it. Did she feel like it? Oh, if she did.

~
Draco Malfoy heard the sounds growing louder and louder, their source coming closer and closer. He was now so cold that his body had stopped caring, making him numb instead. Turning off his senses to save energy. He liked it. Numb felt better, numb was empty and non-caring and zero. Relief. He realised that he had to move if he were to face another human being, that his still body could give an expression about him being unconscious, eventually bringing unnecessary attention. Every bone and every inch of skin hurt at the bare thought of moving, but he slowly made his way up to a half-standing position. A small improvement, but an improvement nonetheless. He was just trying to fix the emotionless expression on his face when the human whose steps he’d listened to for a while strode into the narrow alley.
For a few seconds, Draco considered the possibility that he was hallucinating due to lack of sleep and nutrition.

He recognized this woman – for it was a woman – who’d walked into his alley. She was wearing a black, tight party dress with a few sequins along her neck, and not the striped sweater he’d seen her in before, and her slim legs were bare instead of hidden in baggy jeans. But he could easily identify the auburn hair, the captivating face and the hazel eyes that gave him an examining look. He had seen this woman before, and even if the alcohol level in his blood had made him forget bits of it, he knew he had talked to her. He knew that he had made a fool out of himself. If he were her, he would have turned around immediately to run the other way. Every sane person would've turned around. This woman stood still.

Ginny Weasley couldn’t believe her eyes. Perhaps she didn’t want to. She had met this man once, and that had been unpleasant enough. She had met him many times before, too, of course, but Draco Malfoy didn’t seem to be the young and arrogant teenager he’d once been. She understood that much.
He had lost weight since she saw him, but not in a good way. Now he just looked malnourished, even skinnier than he had been in his Hogwarts time. Even aside from that, his appearance didn’t really shine. The hunched position, the coat way too cold for this night, the thin arms that hugged his own torso, desperate for some warmth.

He had seen her, too – he was inspecting her with the expression of a scientist, completely silent. They stood like that for a short moment, observing each other. Ginny knew she was supposed to walk away, walk home, to the apartment where Harry waited. But she didn’t move, and Draco didn’t, either. They remained in their positions, a distance of ten yards and a whole lot of silence between them.
“I won’t hurt you”, She said after a while. “But do you have a home or do you always spend your nights like this?”
“Not important.” He sighed. “You shouldn’t talk to me.”
“Because you were drunk as hell last time? Don’t act like you don’t remember. I can see you do.”
“Yes. Because I was drunk, because I must’ve said awful things. I couldn’t remember your name, for example.”
“Can you now?”
“No. We went to Hogwarts at the same time, but we weren’t really friends and I don’t think you were a Slytherin, so I probably hated you.”
“Yeah. Gryffindor.” She had no idea why she even told him this.
“I definitely hated you. But I’m over that now. People don’t care about me anyway.” He gave her a small grimace.
“That’s not the Draco I remember from my school time. People used to care about you a lot.”
“That Draco is gone, whether I want him to be or not. Excuse me, but who exactly are you?”
“You sure you don’t remember me? We’ve never been friends, really, not even close. I have plenty of reasons to hate you, your family, your dad… Let’s just say I’ve dreamt about vengeance a few times.” She shifted position a little, trying not to turn into an ice cube. Not moving sure made the cold more intense.
“If you’ve come to seek vengeance, go get it. Nothing will stop you.”
“I don’t think I need to. Looks like you’re doing a pretty good job yourself.” She took a few steps forward, dramatically shortening the distance between them. “Why are you hiding here? Why aren’t you home? You’ve never seemed like the type who risked ending up on the streets.”
“I have a home.” She could see he was getting tired of discussion by now. “But you’re not home either. “ The expression on his face almost looked like a smile.
“I took a walk with my husband after a night at the Leaky Cauldron. He wanted to go home. I wanted to walk a bit further.”
“Further indeed. Still doesn’t explain why you’re talking to me. You said it yourself, we’re far from friends. I don’t get it.” Draco looked deeply frustrated. She watched him in silence, wondering how long he'd went without conversations this long. She couldn’t help feeling sorry for him, but like he'd said, why, oh why, couldn’t she just ignore him? Merlin knew that’s what she would’ve done, if he hadn’t looked so miserable.
“I don’t completely get it, either.” Ginny shook her head. “But you don’t look like the Draco I remember. You look like someone who needs help, and right now, a roof to stay under tonight.” She held out her hand.
“Ginny Weasley, Potter to be, but it’s unimportant for now. I have a feeling in my guts that I need to help you in some way, and I know it’s weird, but please, trust me when I say I can make sure you come indoors before this weather”, she pointed to the enormous rain clouds that were shaping above them, “gets even worse. So consider it.”
Another minute of silence, Draco looking at her with half confused and half sad eyes. Then he held out his hand too, and Ginny tried her best not to think about the fact that she was shaking hands with Draco Malfoy.
If someone had told her 12 year old self that, that little girl would’ve panicked.
_________________________________________________

Chapter 4; Generosity



The rain had already begun its way down from the clouds as Draco made his way after Ginny. He was now very wet, in addition to his coldness, and it was distinctly unpleasant, but he fought to ignore it.
He knew very well who Ginny Weasley was, he knew who she was engaged to – the Daily Prophet had been absolutely hysterical about it, making sure everyone knew. He knew about her former quidditch career in the Holyhead Harpies, about how she'd quit half a year ago to try a journalist career. He knew everything media had told him. And she had been a name he would be instinctively drawn to when found in a newspaper, there was no denying. She was a perfect example of all those he’d bullied who'd ended up living so much better lives than him. Karma's a bitch.

Yes, Draco doubtlessly remembered Ginny, but why he hadn’t recognized the redhead was a question he couldn’t answer. Maybe his brain was too chaotic, too destroyed, or maybe he just didn’t want to remember. No one knew for sure. The thoughts were spinning around in his head on highest speed, but he still marched on, legs almost numb.

~flashback~
The first thing Draco realised when waking up was an excruciating pain in his legs. He couldn’t remember what they’d been through, but as he ran his hand over them, it became sticky. Not a good sign. He felt dizzy, almost like someone had drugged him. Maybe that was the case, since the only thing he saw when trying to remember last night was a total blur. It was dark around him, too dark to see anything clearly, but there had to be some sort of light coming in – Dracos eyes were slowly adjusting, making his eyesight the best possible for the situation. He still couldn’t see much, but he could make out some sort of cloth hanging in front of him, and when he felt the material, he knew instantly where he was. Imprisoned in his own wardrobe.
Humiliating, but not the first time. If everything was following the usual schedule, he knew both who had put him in there and the fact that searching for his wand was meaningless.
The beacon of light, that he now realised came from the wardrobe doors not being entirely shut, widened, and a clicking well known to Dracos ears sounded. He took a deep breath, knowing very well what would happen next. He barely had time to brace himself before the doors flew wide open and the first blow hit his chest. He didn’t protest and he didn’t try to fight back. He already knew how little it was worth it.
And he knew that he couldn’t flee. He had no one to flee to. And who would believe that Draco Malfoy, former death eater with a family of rich snobs, was being abused in his own relationship? Who?
~end of flashback~

The world made a quick flash in front of Dracos eyes when he was dragged back to here and now. He was leaning against a brick wall, thankfully with a small roof over him, because the rain was now coming down in buckets and the sound from it made it hard for you to hear your own thoughts. Draco gave Ginny a hasty glance, trying to analyse if they were going somewhere in this hysterical weather, but she wore too much of a poker face for him to understand anything.
“My friend has a flat nearby, which I have an extra key to. She’s not home, so I suggest we go there”, she said suddenly, as if reading his mind.
“I still don’t understand why you’re doing this.”
“No, neither do I, really, but something about you makes me feel that you don’t deserve a life on the streets. Not for real.”
“I don’t know. Where else can you go if you don’t want to go home?”
“To a friend’s place, maybe? Most people do go home, though.”
“Not you, apparently.”
“I know. I considered it, but I decided to try helping you first.” She scrutinized the weather with a concentrated look. “It’s not raining just as much now. We can go.” And so she strode off in the rain, and Draco half-ran after her, thinking that he really didn’t feel any difference in the rain’s intensity.

Even though Draco was doubting it for a while, Ginny was right about the apartment not being that far away. It only took five minutes for them to get into a shabby-looking apartment house, but those minutes were enough for Draco to get dripping wet. He had ironically enough been too wet and cold to cast an Impervius spell over himself, and he regretted it now, when he saw that Ginny was completely unharmed by the weather.
“Forgot an Impervius?” She gave him a half smile and he tried to ignore the warm jolt his stomach did.
“You're not bad at guessing” He shuddered. “Too cold to reach for my wand.” She rolled her eyes, but flicked her own wand nontheless. Draco couldn’t help but smile when he felt the warmth flow through his body.
“Thought that would make you feel better. Now, three stairs up.” She led the way, gracefully avoiding old gum and different dirt marks in the cement stairs, and he tried to shake away the thought about how bizarre all this was. Nothing could make this feel real right now. A part of him was still suspecting he’d fallen asleep on the streets, that Ginny was just part of an incredibly illogical dream.
The door to the apartment on the fourth floor opened, and Draco was very, very close to pinching himself in the arm.
~
He had never seen anything like this apartment. It was small, consisting only of one room plus a kitchen and a bathroom, but it must have been the most decorated apartment he had ever seen. The wooden floor was painted blue like the sky, but had paint stains from more colours than he knew the name of. The floor had only one carpet, placed in the middle, and it was blue with a moving bronze raven, meaning this apartment belonged to a Ravenclaw. The roof was covered in portraits, some of people, some of animals, and he could only recognize about a fourth of the people. And the walls… they were covered in so many different things he didn’t know where to start. There were mind maps, more paintings, big sheets of silk with all the colours of Hogwarts houses, an extra big sheet with the Ravenclaw logo, long threads with pearls on them… Draco could see a king-size bed in a corner, a sofa with so many pillows he wasn’t sure if there really was a sofa underneath, big bookshelves with space not big enough for all the books, lining them up in piles on the floor instead, and there was an enormous table with mismatched chairs, covered in papers and maps and sketches and magazines.

“It’s a lot to take in, this apartment”, said Ginny.
“You. Don’t. Say.” Draco felt like someone had cast a Stupefy over him. He really needed to sleep, but sleeping inside without constantly being afraid felt almost surreal. “I still don’t understand why you let me sleep here.”
“I get that.” She nodded. “I don’t completely get it either. But you know what?” Her dark brown eyes, the colour of hazelnuts, met his blue ones. “I hated you for a long time. You were an asshole when we met at that muggle train. But something with you tells me you have your reasons. I don’t think you sleep on the streets because you like it. You’re not drunk right now, at least not visibly –“
“I’m not, I promise.”
“– and I have a really strong feeling that you need help. So I helped you.”
“It’s way too generous.”
“There is no such thing as too generous. I’m many things. I’m impulsive, I stand up for people, I can be bossy, but I’m not a mean person and I will never be. I’ve seen too much. And I don’t believe that there can be too much kindness in this world.” She took a few steps into the room. “Make yourself at home. Try not to destroy anything, but if you do, it’s fine, because Luna will only think a crumplehorned snorkack have been here and she would be head over heels about that.” Draco followed her, accidentally stepping on the Ravenclaw carpet. The eagle gave him an angry squeak and he quickly jumped off.
“Don’t stand on that thing. It hates everyone who’s not in Ravenclaw. Especially Slytherins, I think. Hufflepuffs are okay, though, I don’t think it knows what a Hufflepuff is. ”
“Will you come back?”
“Tomorrow. Sleep tight.” She gave him another smile, causing another jolt in his stomach. Then she left.

Draco really, really wanted to sleep. He was tired to the point where dizziness surrounded him, and he would find himself dozing off every two minutes or so, just to immediately wake up again. He was hopelessly awake, and the dire lack of sleep in his body tore at the insides, and he felt helpless and alone and so, so tired. But he was afraid of sleeping, because if he fell asleep, he knew how unpleasant waking up would be. Sometimes it was cold, sometimes burning hot and sometimes just really painful. Sometimes the physical pain was none, sometimes the abuse came in verbal form. Voices in his head screaming, or a voice from the outside who screamed just as loud and almost exactly the same things. She was asleep next to him, and Draco wanted to flee, apparate somewhere, but the apartment had a spell forbidding just that. She was sleeping right next to him, and he was so afraid.
He turned around. The only thing next to him was some pillows in odd patterns.
He suddenly remembered, and finally fell asleep.
~

Silence was what surrounded Ginny when she quietly turned the brass door knob and stepped into their apartment. It was dark, illuminated only by moonlight from the enormous living room windows. Harry probably slept too deep to care if she slipped into their bed now, but then again, he slept until early afternoon whenever he got the chance. And she had thought of the Holyhead Harpies training as tough… She was actually considering trying out again. After all, they only seemed to constantly whine about how much they missed her. But there were plenty of other things to think about right now.

She had left Draco in Lunas apartment. Very, very impulsive of her, probably the most impulsive thing she’d done in a very long time, but it still felt right. He needed it. She had to check up on him tomorrow, had to bring him breakfast. But first, she needed to sleep. So she washed her face with a flick of her wand, quickly changed into a Harpies pyjamas, and before she’d fully closed her eyes, sleep had come to greet her.
But the pleasure of sleep didn’t last very long, and for the record, it wasn’t even pleasant. Ginny found herself thrown from one dream to another, each one more odd and complex than the other. She dreamed about Draco, about a teenager who behaved like shit but later hid in the bathroom crying his eyes out. She dreamed about Lucius, angrier than she’d ever seen him, screaming words she couldn’t hear – they didn’t feel like very kind ones – and a little boy hiding in a corner, ears covered with small, scratch marked hands. She dreamed about the fireplace in Gryffindor’s common room, about roasting marshmallows with her friends, laughing and joking. She dreamed about Harry, about their very first kiss after that Quidditch game, but also about waiting and waiting in their couch for a man who finally messaged her that he slept at the ministry. Memories she had and memories that didn’t belong to her, leaving her with a deep feeling of unease in her stomach.

The alarm clock showed 8.12 AM. Harry slept like a baby, making noises every now and then. The bitter feeling the dreams had left her still felt strong, and normally, she would’ve leaned over to kiss her fiancé, but this time, she just couldn’t bring herself to. So she chose the other option – she carefully crawled out of bed, changed to a striped tank top, jeans and a cardigan, spended about five minutes in the bathroom, quickly scribbled down a few words on a paper and left the apartment.
________________________________________________

Jag jobbar på att hitta läsare till denna fanfiction, haha. Min popularitet här har passerat bäst före-datum. ;D

Nu får jag i alla fall äntligen börja jobba på ett helt nytt kapitel!

Jag ska försöka läsa men eftersom att engelska är så svårt så får vi se... Men bevakar i alla fall!

Du är verkligen superduktig!

Tack så hemskt mycket båda två :*

Jag skriver på kapitel 5, får se när det är redo för publicering men kanske i helgen!

Såååå himla bra *-* alltså varför har du inte fler läsare? Vill bara ha meeeeeer!!!

Haha, jag vet inte! Du får väl rekommendera den helt enkelt. Tack så mycket. ♥

Har bara en liten del kvar på nästa kapitel kvar nu, så ska försöka publicera det imorgon!