Broken ones [ENG]

Detta är så underbart att jag dör cx

Alldeles fantastiskt bra! ♥

Först trodde jag att du skrev broccoli så jag blev lite förvirrad xD

men om vi skall vara lite mer seriösa: Du skriver väldigt, väldigt bra. Läser ganska mycket fanfictions på engelska, och jag har aldrig läst någon som har så bra språk (och många av de författarna är förmodligen från Engelsktalande länder så det är väldigt bra gjort ).Jag älskar storyn också. Personligen så föredrar jag Drarry, men allting du skriver är så bra att jag inte kunde motstå att läsa den här också

Du har just fått en ny läsare ;]

Läste dem liiite *host* sent men ja... Du skriver jättebra jag gillar Draco i den här fanfictionen C: du skriver jättebra och beskrivande, jag kan föreställa mig det väldigt tydligt

JÄTTE BRA!!!! Jag älskar hur du skriver och väntar verkligen på fortsättningen!

Oohh, tack så mycket, att vakna upp till sådant här gör mig alltid jätteglad ♥ kram på er!!

Holaaa (varsågod )

Tack!! ♥

Såå, här kommer ett nytt kapitel! Lite action i det här också, haha. Ni får nöja er med det här ett tag, för imorgon åker jag till New York i en vecka!!! AH AH SHIT SHIT AH AH VÄNTA VAD HÄNDE HÄR HJÄLP HJÄLP HJÄLP SHIT SHIT
(jag har inte alls resfeber??)


Förlåt.
Nu ska ni få erat kapitel xD
Konstruktiv kritik = ♥ ♥ ♥



Broken Ones: chapter 4
Draco felt cold. The feeling had been quite distant at first, not really taking up much of his thoughts, but its strength continued to grow. By now, he was shivering, his teeth slamming against each other in short and rhythmic pulses. He wished the thought of wearing something warmer had come to him earlier, but it was too late. All he had was a light, black coat, just a bit too short for being a women’s coat and a bit too long for being a man’s, and that coat was 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 waiting – for time to pass, for morning to come, a morning that made his wife leave for work, leave their apartment to Draco.
He did know that they couldn’t go on like that forever. But it was a minor issue. Their relationship was already so non-existent a relationship between two married people could be. An eventual divorce would, however, be on the Daily Prophets front page for months, and Draco had tried bringing it up, but it never seemed to end particularly well. She was too afraid of publicity – she would tear up, cry, scream at him. Blame him for all their problems. And it never ended well.

Not that a divorce would make things worse. 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. She didn’t feel cold at all, for she felt alive and free and she was clueless about where she was going. She moved away from an unemptied garbage can someone had knocked over, maybe in a street fight, slowed down a bit when her heels made too loud noises against the street, 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 would create a bunch of possible headlines in a reporter’s notebook, she knew that much. But it wasn’t significant for the moment. The only thing that mattered 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 was absolutely ridiculous, but there was also a lot of excitement in her thoughts, and that lovely, lovely whisper about unpredictable.

The corners of Diagon Alley she approached by now were unknown to her. Born into a wizard family, she had come her often ever since she was a baby who either slept or screamed through the visits, and she knew that diverging from the main street very well could end up with an unwished visit to Knockturn Alley, trying not to talk 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 no.1 rule. You didn’t break it, and if you still felt the urges, you thought about the tell-off your mother would give you. That was the method of the Weasley kids. 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 she 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, and they could have a natural explanation, of course, he didn’t deny that. It could be a shop-owner rushing past him in its way to the shop, but it was Sunday tomorrow and none of the shops opened especially early. He didn’t believe it could be 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 that a Muggle ID was something he didn’t own. They helped him with getting one, and Draco now carried it in his wallet at all times. It was indeed a very smart way to get into clubs without having to cast 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 hobo. 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 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, since it showed off the little curves she had in such 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 must be easily 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. A voice in her head 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 in there. And this one 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? She wasn’t sure. It was unpredictable. Oh, how she loved that word.


Draco Malfoy heard the sounds growing louder and louder, the thing behind them coming closer and closer. He was now so could 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 homeless and bringing unnecessary attention. Every bone and every inch of skin hurt at the bare thought of it, 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 unclothed 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 hair. 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. That’s what every sane person would’ve done. But this woman didn’t.


Ginny Weasley couldn’t believe her eyes. Or maybe she didn’t want to. She had met this man once, and that had been unpleasant enough to satisfy her. 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 anymore. You understood that much quite fast. 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. And 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 but still looking like he really wanted to talk. They stood like that for a short moment, just observing each other. Ginny knew that 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 ten yards distance and a whole lot of silence between them.
“I won’t hurt you”, Ginny said after about five minutes. “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 that 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.”
“I definitely hated you. But I’m kind of over that now. People don’t care about me anyway.” He frowned.
“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 particularly close to. I have plenty of reasons to hate you, your family, your dad… Let’s just say I’ve dreamt about vengeance a few times. But I happen to be engaged to a very forgiving man.” She shifted position a little, trying not to turn into an ice cube.
“If you’ve come to seek vengeance, go get it. Nothing will stop you.” Draco half-smiled, but it didn’t look very honest. There was nothing but pain in his face.
“I don’t think I need to try. Looks like you’re doing a pretty good job yourself.” She took a few steps, 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, not to me.”
“I have a home.” She could see that he was getting tired of discussing by now. “But you’re not home either. You just told me that you’re engaged. Engaged people aren’t normally homeless.”
“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, thinking to herself that this man probably had went a long time without conversations this long. She couldn’t help feeling sorry for him, but like he had 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 extremely 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 not important right 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 that she was shaking hands with Draco Malfoy. If someone had told her 12 year old self that, that little girl would’ve panicked.

Väldigt bra! Det kommer att bli spännande med fortsättningen