Dear folks,

now this is obviously my very first Harry Potter fic. It's just a short one-shot, set during the events at Malfoy Manor in Deathly Hallows 1, and is written in 3rd person style though it's as focused and (hopefully) insightful as a 1st person story would be.

I usually write for another (and much smaller) fandom, which made it be a challenge to write for this one. But I hope I was able to do justice to the fabulous world of HP.
Special thanks go to floflo who encouraged me to post this here! :)

Written to the song Shattered by Trading yesterday (it's no songfic though; just mention it in case you want to listen to the music while reading)

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all its characters belong to no one else but Rowling. :)

Broken

Her cries cut through the night. Like sharp knifes they penetrate his mind and paralyze him for only the shortest of moments.
He can feel his heart beat with ire, and yet, at the same time, it seems to stand still.
He hardly dares to breathe; he does not dare to move. Her voice seems to be all that exists in this world; all that can reach him through the darkness of this place. It surrounds him, tears his soul apart and leaves him beaten.

Painfully his blood seems to turn to ice in his very veins, while desperately his eyes stare upwards. Right as if they could spot her there; as if he could look through the walls and see what she is doing to her.
Right as if he could help.

"We have to do something", he begs before he even is aware he speaks these words. It's all he can think of, all that he knows. It echoes in his head, almost drowning her cries and cutting him off from her pain.
Frantically he looks at his friends, silently pleading them to help. He sees the sadness in their faces, sees the defeat, but he is not willing to accept what they believe is immutable. It cannot be that there is no way out. And it won't.
He will not stay here and wait till she dies.
He will not.
Not when he can still hear her scream.

Someone approaches and he doesn't care who it is; he is at the gate before he can even see their face.
"Let her go!" he spits in sudden rage. Despair is mixing with her pain, and deep inside of him a kind of anger arises that is stronger than any he has ever known. His words are a threat. And they are true.

He will not let them hurt her anymore, and he will not stand by as she cries.

...

Step after step they climb the stairway up to where she is. His pulse has long turned into stinging beats that seem to have lost all resemblance to what they were before. He moves as soundless as he can – moves as carefully as his muscles will allow. Silent voices fill this room. They all echo through these halls but none of them is hers.
Her cries have long dwindled away and in his head he fears to see the reason why.
He stops breathing as finally they reach the brim. For just one second time seems to stand still as his gaze meets her pale face.
She is lying on the floor: motionless and quiet.

In this very moment he feels his heart fall silent, too.

There is no pain for him to feel, no anger to throw at those who hurt her. All there is is emptiness. And cold.
A cold he has never thought was possible to feel - one that makes him think he is going to die, if not with body then with soul.
He just stares at her from where he is, unable to move, unable to think as all he is is falling to pieces. But when suddenly, in his head, through the void he hears his own voice scream for her, a burning sensation breaks the veil. It wakes him from his reverie - willing him to make them pay.

Deliberately he crosses yet another step. His eyes take in every detail; try to not miss a single thing. He knows he has to aim well, knows he has to be quick. He takes in her still form, memorizes where he has to make sure no spell hits the ground. And there he sees it; sees her breathe. Shallow breaths, breaths that speak of hurt, but they are steady – they are even; and then, slowly, he sees her eyes open. A faint glimmer of the tears she must have cried is still lingering in them, and he frowns at the ache this makes him feel.
Everything seems to be different here; unknown to him and yet never has it all been as clear as it is now. When he hears the dark witch's words, there is no hesitation in his moves, no question in his mind.
He knows exactly what he has to do; knows it deep within like he did nothing else before.

"Like hell", he throws her way; lets his magic follow in a flash.
His spell won't hurt the Death Eater he knows, but it will distract her; give him the chance to draw her attention to them instead of Hermione.
And this is all he seeks to do.

.

One after the other his spells come. They are driven by anger, one that he has never encountered before, one that would scare him if he wasn't in need of it. He never knew what it meant to have his emotions influence his magic, but now he does.
Bit by bit he fights the dark ones off; bit by bit they cave in to what drives him and his friend.
Out of the corner of his eye he sees Harry fight with all his soul, knows that just like his own all his thoughts are focused on her. Even now a part of him salutes the other for the might he holds inside. And yet he knows that right now in him a stronger flame is burning - one that his mind has yet to fully understand. But he feels it fuel the magic he, himself, carries, and when he looks at their opponents he knows that they are close to defeat.

...

It is nothing but a glimpse of time, but it changes everything.

He stops dead in his tracks when he realizes that each step further will set the seal on her doom.
The blade glistens cruelly on her skin, its deadly might enclosing him like a prison. He can do nothing but obey; can do nothing but drop his wand. He does not hear how his and Harry's hit the ground. Once again all he perceives is her voice, and like its whisper had lead him to her, her suppressed cries now ring deep down inside of him, consuming all his inner self.

Once again he feels frozen; unable to do what every fibre of his soul is screaming for. Once again his heart beats with fury while the world is closing in on him. He sees her at the witch's side, sees her body shake. She is frightened he knows, frightened that this might be the end.
And maybe it is, he thinks. Maybe they are all destined to end this battle here. Maybe this is where their journey ends.
His hands are clenched to fists as he stares at her. No words cross his lips, but in his mind he hears them echo silently.
If they are indeed lost, then at least he will do all he can for her. He will fight for her till the very end.
Will fight with all he has to give…

...
...

She is there.

Unconsciously he holds her tightly, replies unknowingly to what she asks for. He feels her weight in his arms as she leans on him for support. Her body still trembles and briefly he wonders what they must have done to her. Her breaths come quick, and her gaze is fixed on their enemies, but her head she buries behind his chin. He can feel her every heartbeat as her chest is close to him, and while her left hand clutches his shirt he feels all the anger dwindle and be replaced by something new.
His gaze travels to his friends, travels to the elf who will turn out to be their savior. He does take them all in, but no matter how much he sees it all gets outranged by what he feels.
Her touch, her warmth – they flood his senses and make all what is happening around seem to be so distant. He hears Dobby speak and yet to him it is a whisper; he hears the Death Eater hiss and yet her voice seems to die long before it reaches him. He takes the elf's hand, but it's not his presence he is aware of. While slowly the darkness surrenders to the hope their friend brought, his arms close firmly around her. While the other's magic leads them far from there, all he can think of is to hold her tightly and not let her go.
To take her away from the dark.
To take her to safety.
Is it all what he wants; all he does care for.

And as the creature takes them to the seas he had told him about, something inside of him finally comes to ease. The further they go, the more does his world seem to turn again. As the light crashes upon them and the winds tell of another time, he understands that they indeed are free.

.

He is kneeling on the ground, and the cold water sends shivers along his legs. He can hear the waves murmur, hears Harry call for her. And in his arms he still holds her, protects her with all that he is.

She is safe.
It is all well.
They escaped; left the darkness behind.

He feels her hold on to him and suddenly he truly comprehends that their path has not yet found its end. That in fact they just stepped onto it.
The war has just begun, he knows; knows that they would have to fight again – that darkness once more would find them.
They have chosen to defend this world; have chosen to stand up for what they know is right.

And yet from now on all would be different.

He looks down at her and while her gaze is cast towards their friends, he knows that he will not only fight for Hogwarts anymore.

On this one day all what he had started to understand has become real, and all what he knew lay buried in heart broke free.
Deliberately he takes her hand, holds it gently in his own. And not leaving her side he silently vows to her that he will not give in. Promises her what he knows he will stay true to no matter how high the price; vows that he will never let them hurt her again.

Author's note: Alright, that's been it. x) It's rather short I know, and the theme is all but new, but I hope it still was worth the read. Also, in case you wonder: the breakes I made on purpose; as well as I did leaving Dobby's death out of this.
If you detect any flaws in language, then please accept my apologies. I'm no native speaker and though I try to do my best with English, I can't be sure to make it all right.

Feedback of course is much appreciated, and anonymous one is enabled, too.

Thanx a lot for reading,
TiaKisu