Broken by fallenwitch

Rating: PG
Genres: Angst, Romance
Relationships: Draco & Ginny
Book: Draco & Ginny, Books 1 - 6
Published: 20/02/2007
Last Updated: 20/02/2007
Status: Completed

Draco and Ginny in a dark, post-War romance. Draco stumbles around. Ginny catches him, sort
of.




1. Broken
---------



**Author's Notes:** This little ditty was written for my wonderful beta, Marcia, in
celebration of her birthday. It was inspired by the Keith Urban song, "I Can't Stop Loving
You." No, it is *not* a song fic. And yes, I believe I am the only one in the fandom who
connects KU to D/G. *shrugs shoulders* It is now a terribly *belated* birthday fic. Still, the
thought and the love are there so Happy Belated Birthday and a Happy Valentine's Day as well,
Marcia!

Many thanks to Black Alnair for the covert beta and to seegrim for the helpful behind-the-scenes
consultation while Marcia wasn't looking. It was a blast pulling the wool over her unsuspecting
eyes. Let's do it again sometime...

**Broken**

She is as still as death, wrapped in white cotton sheets with winter's tainted moonlight
splashing over her figure, drenching her in its unnatural glow. He has seen death many times. Is
this what she would look like? Would her crossing be a peaceful one, or would she lose herself in
the netherworld without him?

He stands across the cramped room and turns away from her still silence to stare into the
tumultuous void of night, remembering the final two years of the War when he lost himself among the
darkened signposts, when he could no longer hear the calling of her voice or remember the resonance
of her touch, when his heart lay dormant in his chest.

And it is night.

He had exploded out of the War a changed wizard, unable to recognize his reflection in the murky
post-War world. Did his life have a purpose? He did not know and could not remember. He was lost in
the echo of the War, in his inability to heal in the midst of a broken and confused wizarding
world.

And it is night.

She had found him rotting inside a Muggle pub, drowning facedown in some concoction of Muggle
toxins. He never asked her how she had found him nor did he remember their conversation or how he
ended up going home with her. Can an inebriated heart find its way home?

And it is night.

He awoke to her touch, to the foreign feeling of her gentle kisses on his face and the tender
stroking of her hand in his hair.

Touching... touching... touching... invading.

She had invaded his cloistered world with her uninvited touch. His open eyes were upon her. She
saw him and stopped, flushing a bit before kissing him. Her arms closed around his unresponsive
body, her face against his chest as she told him he was home.

An explosion of excruciating, life-giving pain ripped through him. He mumbled an incoherent
response before turning over and away from her, taking the sheets with him and burying his face in
the pillow. Perhaps the body had a memory as well as the mind.

Many minutes later, he stumbled out of bed and Apparated away. She wrapped her arms around his
pillow and buried her face in its sacred softness, suffused with his scent and wet with his tears.
Tears that had no special healing powers, but she had the power to heal him. Or did she?

And it is night.

She dogged him for three months, pushing him to the brink in her adamant refusal to let him go
his way and she hers, to let them dissolve in the way realities dissolve, truths dissolve, people
dissolve.

And it is night.

When he could not self-destruct in a bottle of Firewhiskey or Muggle toxins, when he could not
shut her out of his life or brush off her affection, he surrendered to her greater power. He let
her love him, and she took him home until her home became his home. He joined her Resistance and
fought for her. She believed it was the way to a better wizarding world. He no longer believed in
anything but her.

And night wanes.

He sighs and turns his pained eyes to her and the poisoned cocoon of warmth she has spun. When
did he acquire this habit of losing himself? He lost himself in the War and now in her. How did she
bewitch his world to fit her and only her? Things between them are out of control, and he is in
trouble. He closes his eyes and places his forehead against the frozen glass pane.

As dawn breaks, he wonders if he is breaking.

She rises to find him sitting in the kitchen staring at his morning cup of tea. He stands and
takes her suitcase. They stare at one another before heading out the door to Kings Cross Station.
They don't speak. She's catching the first train out.

Is he breaking?

The blast of air from the trains whooshing past blows her skirt and her hair and his tenaciously
strung heart. She reaches over to take her suitcase from his hand, tugging on it to release it from
his reluctant grasp.

Is he breaking?

"Draco."

He can't hear what she's saying. He's gone deaf and dumb. As he watches her board
the train, he wonders if he'll see her again, wonders what will become of him without her.

Yes, he is breaking.

He doesn't go back to drinking or to his Muggle pubs. Instead, he returns to the cool
isolation of his flat, missing the cosy warmth of her home. When she doesn't return, he
volunteers for the extra assignment, the one no one will take. And he continues fighting for
her.

Broken.

A month later, he opens his eyes, squinting at the rush of sunlight piercing his skull and
filling his world with its blinding brilliance. Her scent is in the air. Her voice fills the
room.

Broken.

"I go away for a two-week assignment and come back to find him like this? No, absolutely
not!" Ginny gets out of the chair beside her fallen wizard and marches up to Zacharias Smith,
poking her finger into his chest, her furious face in his. "I don't care what the Healer
says. He is *NOT* going on any more assignments with you. Do you hear me?"

"But Ginny, he's the one who..."

"No!" Her hands are on her hips. "I can't believe you let him volunteer in
the first place. Shame on you. I turn my back for a second and you slit my throat."

"Ginny, Kingsley says..."

"No! I don't want to hear anything more. Are you bloody well deaf?" she yells,
flushing a rosy red.

"No, we're not deaf, Gin," Draco mutters, a bit hoarse but with fully functioning
tympanic membranes.

She spins around at the sound of his voice and stares at her newly conscious Slytherin. Her
heart explodes at the sight of his open eyes on her. And Smith slips out the door, unnoticed.

"Draco!" she cries, rushing to him and throwing her arms around his neck, squeezing
him until he feels dizzy. It's the most delicious dizzy he's ever felt. "I was so
worried, you stupid, stupid wizard."

He shushes her and throws his aching arms around her, drawing her close to his warmth and the
steady beating of his heart. When she begins to cry in relief, letting loose her pent up anxiety
and fear, he holds her tighter. "Don't cry, Ginny."

She nods in the crook of his neck and continues crying despite his gentle admonishment. Many
minutes later, she lifts her puffy eyes and tear-streaked face. "I'm never going away on
assignment again. " He strokes her worried face, trying to ease her fears and take away the
sleepless nights he has caused her. "You do crazy things when I'm away."

He nods. "I do."

"Since when did you develop a hero complex? Or were you contemplating suicide?" She
laughs nervously, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand.

When he doesn't respond to her, she peers into his eyes, watching his soul adrift and out to
sea. "No, Draco," she whispers, the tip of her nose against his, panic in her voice. She
collapses against him, holding her crazed wizard close and whispers into his ear, an edge of
desperation falling into her words, "I'll never leave again, Draco. I promise.
Never." She feels his arms crushing her until she can barely breathe.

And day has begun.

During the War, Draco lost his twisted sense of object permanence, misplaced it somewhere amidst
all of his other lost belongings. But she is back, his beautiful northern star, and she is all he
needs. Ginny cradles her broken wizard in her arms. She will hold his heart in hers and be his
guiding light, taking them through the long day into night.

**-** **Fin -**

**Author's Note:** Thanks for reading. -fallenwitch

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