Brokenhearted

I'm brokenhearted,

Broken hearted for you,

So don't get me started on repairs,

I know what you're gonna do,

You'll break it again,

I know I can't win,

You'll just break my heart again.

You chose the words you knew would make me cry,

You've probably done it to a hundred guys,

I'm not crying, I've got something in my eye.

You said you never really felt a thing,

You said you didn't like the way I sing,

I'm not crying, but my eyes, they really sting,

You slapped my face before you said goodbye,

Called me a loser, hoping I would die,

I'm not crying, I've got something in my eye.

You said you never really felt a thing,

You said you didn't like the way I sing,

I'm not crying, but my eyes, they really sting.

"Brokenhearted" by MXPX

~

Draco flicked his wand violently, causing the door to slam. The sound echoed through the mansion, carrying with it a disconcerting finality. Had it been so cold in here before? With another swish of his wand a flame burst to life in the fireplace.

He paced for a long time, thinking about the past. He thought about the past three hours. He thought about the past three years.

- -, - - ;- -'<@

After Harry Potter found and destroyed Voldemort's Horocruxes, the Dark Lord had been weak; destroyed easily. Draco had been dumbfounded, he hadn't had a clue as to Voldemort's methods of avoiding death, or he might have gone after the Horocruxes himself. Grudgingly, he admitted that Dumbledore had been clever to discover the secret behind the Dark Lord's success, and so had Harry to discover where they had been hidden without the old man to tell him. And secretly, Draco thanked them both for relieving him of his greatest mistake. Fortunately, he hadn't done anything yet as a favour to Voldemort, and Harry had actually defended him in front of the courts, saying that he saw that Draco had not wanted to kill Dumbledore, nor had he willingly joined the Death Eaters. The courts had let Draco off with a few hefty fines, but nothing more.

Draco had too much pride to thank Harry, and Harry hadn't wanted thanks anyhow, if sentiments could be judged by the look the ebony-haired boy had given him as they exited the courtroom. Draco understood later (or thought he understood), however, why Harry had done it, for Ginevra Weasely appeared on his vast doorstep only days later.

She'd run away from home, she told him as she stood shivering in the massive foyer, fresh out of the rain. "Is it always this cold in here?" she asked.

After assessing her and the situation critically, he ushered her deeper into the mansion, wondering how the events in life managed to change and turn and twist so swiftly. After all, a Weasely had just appeared at his door, asking for refuge. She talked as they walked, gibbering about the reasons she needed to escape, and he didn't listen. That is, he didn't listen until she said to him, "I thought here might be a place to try, since I fancied you all through school, anyhow." He pretended to ignore her, but what?!

Very much in a tizzy after that comment, he led her into the nearest room and shut her in, saying he would have to find her a house elf to fetch her some hot tea, and walked feverishly down the hall to enter his own bedroom and slam the door on this new development.

After nearly an hour of pacing, he finally emerged, having come to the conclusion that what he had on his hands was not, in fact, a problem, but a potentially pleasant opportunity. And to think, Potter saved him to indulge Weasely's little fantasies; how very selfless. When he returned to the room where he had left Ginny, he found her twiddling with some china figures on the mantelpiece. "You're a rude person, Draco Malfoy," she said, turning.

"I'm sorry. So you fancied me all through school, did you?" He approached her casually, hands clasped behind his back. She shrugged and nodded, as if it were common knowledge, not something so unusual as members of enemy families fancying one another. He chuckled, amused. "A regular Romeo and Juliet affair, wouldn't you say?"

Again, a shrug and a nod. Somewhat disgruntled by her half-hearted responses, he tried again. "So then, you wouldn't mind accompanying me to Hogsmeade?" He smiled dashingly, hoping to charm her, and though still not offering a very substantial answer, smiled and nodded in consent.

For the rest of the night, as they traipsed through Hogsmeade, they talked of the events immediately preceding Dumbledore's death, Hogwarts having closed, the battle between the Aurors of the Order and the Death Eaters, and Voldemort's defeat. Draco also listened this time when Ginny described the overbearing conditions of the Weasely family at the time and Harry's insufferable angst, which had ultimately been what compelled her to run away. And really, Draco found it all very interesting. Really, he thought that Ginny was much too young, too innocent, too attractive to have to endure it all. Really, he found that he wanted to make it all up to her, instead of doing what he's originally intended to do.

That is the reason he spent every day of the next month getting to know her, and the eleven immediately following to fall in love with her; another six dating her and giving her everything she wanted and more, and one more month putting together the perfect proposal.

Draco had his pride, of course, and his reputation. Their wedding was small - only he, Ginny, and two witnesses - and so was everything else that happened when they were out together. His affectionate gestures were considerably more inconspicuous and less frequent when in public, not counting the wedding ceremony, and he avoided family and friends like the plague. Ginny was a Weasely, after all.

- -, - - ;- -'<@

Three hours ago, Ginny had walked resolutely into their bedroom, where Draco had been reading and humming cheerfully to himself, and declared that she was tired of it. "I'm tired of it all!" she raged, making for the bureau with the intent of removing all of her clothing. Draco turned the page absent-mindedly, unaware that she was talking about something very serious. "Tired of what, dear?"

"This!"

"What?!" He slammed his book into his lap, exasperated, and looked at her incredulously. She gestured to imply the house and everything in it.

"What," he asked, confused, "the house? We'll sell it. D'you want something bigger? Or something smaller...a cabin?" She laughed acidly. "A cabin. Yes, that's what's got me irritated. Honestly, Draco, don't be so dense! I'm tired of everything. Of living here, of dealing with you, of avoiding everyone in public! I want to be free and outspoken, but you are the reason I can't do that. I'm leaving."

He was shocked that she could say something of such magnitude so casually, but more than that, he was scared and almost completely sure that she meant that she was leaving for good. What he didn't understand was why. Officially panicked, he let go of his book, mindless of his place among the pages, and stood.

"Gin, what are you saying? No-" he shook his head to clear his muddled thoughts- "why are you saying it? What did I do? And when did you decide this?" He approached her with imploring eyes.

"Just now I decided, but I've hated it all along! You act as if you're so above me all of the time, you act embarrassed to be seen with me you prideful, arrogant oaf!"

His heart wrenched (could he still save it?) and he got to his knees. "Gin, please, be reasonable, you never said anything, I didn't know it bothered you!"

She rounded on him. "Why wouldn't it?!" She shouted, "Why on earth wouldn't it?! And you know, every bit of it is your bloody father's fault!!"

Pain...was that his heart?

"What does my father have to do with anything?!" Lucius Malfoy was off limits, being a very tender spot in Draco's past.

"It's your father's fault you formed certain opinions of other Wizarding families, especially mine! It's his fault you treat me the way you do in public!"

Draco didn't know what to do. He was livid at her for having brought up his father and blaming him for it all, but he was desperate, as well, to keep her from leaving. "I'll change." He said. And he meant it, with every bit of himself. Draco Malfoy would give it all up for Ginny Weasely. She, however, did not seem to want to listen to reason. For three of the longest, hardest, most painful hours of Draco's life, they quarrelled. They fought and shouted, viciously assaulting one another with accusations, first, and then insults. The worst, however, was at the end of it. The end of it when Ginny shouted that she had never loved him. When she shouted that she'd only wanted the money all along. When she shouted that she had actually still loved Harry all along.

"In fact-" Her face was flushed with exertion and anger- "Harry and I have been together all along, and I've been using the money you put into my bank account to build a life for us!"

Draco roared in anger, and it finally struck him. Harry Potter - damn his eyes - had saved him as part of a plan to get his money! Ginny was the tool! Draco momentarily felt as if he could kill Harry Potter for using Ginny that way, until he remembered that she had been willing. His heart was more than broken. More than torn in two, more than shattered or crushed. It had been obliterated, into such a fine dust that that must have been what was spilling into his veins to cause them to burn so. His eyes began to sting (What was that sting?), and he moved toward her, still unsure of whether he was going to beg for mercy or strike her.

She must have thought that he was going to hit her, because she slapped his face soundly when he was near enough, eyes wild with fear, and then ran out of the room, leaving him standing there, panting, eyes burning, in shock. He thought, now, that he probably would have begged for mercy, and wished he hadn't have been wearing such an ugly look that she would slap him out of fear, for indeed, the slap had hurt the worst of it all. Not on his face, but in his tight, burning chest.

- -, - - ;- -'<@

He entertained the thought of throwing everything having to do with her into the fire for a short moment. But that would only hurt worse, wouldn't it? No, the sudden physical absence of her was enough as it were, to be rid of her the rest of the way would be too much. What she had left behind, he would gradually get rid of.

With a small pop, a house elf appeared with a cup of steaming tea. "Master Malfoy is distressed," said the pitiful-looking creature, "Master Malfoy should have a spot of tea to calm his nerves."

Draco barely glanced at it. He wanted the strangle the little servant, really, but couldn't bring himself to. Ginny had taught him kindness; to think of the way it hurts to be abused. Lord, had it really been her? He took the cup gently, thanking and dismissing the house elf. It turned to leave, but paused a moment. "May this servant ask why Master Malfoy is crying all these hours?"

"NO!"

Draco roared, "And I am not crying! I've got something in my eye!"

The elf nodded fearfully and disappeared. Draco sniffled and took a sip of his tea.

"I've got something in my eye..."