Dramione

13* Moaning Myrtle

The bird chirped happily in his hand. He set it down inside the cabinet, hope rising in his chest, but fear gave him pause. If this worked, he would have to move on to the next phase of the plan. If this worked, he would have to complete his mission. He shook his head. Obviously the mission would have to be done. He had made the unbreakable vow. There was no going back. He gently closed the cabinet door. His feelings of hope and dread warring inside him.

He felt the force of magic, sending the bird to Knockturn Alley. He counted the seconds and at 28, he felt the force of magic returning. He eased the door open; the bird hopped around the floor of the cabinet excitedly. Draco's heart fell while his pride rose. He lifted the bird, and carried it to an open window. When he returned to the cabinet, he pulled out a scrap of parchment and wrote a note. It works.

The next morning at breakfast, Draco received an owl from his father. He excused himself to the lavatory to read it. As expected, it was a date and a list of instructions. He committed it to memory, then burned the letter over the toilet before flushing the remains. He sighed deeply, steeling his nerves. He had become so accustomed to pushing away his fear and anxiety, hiding them from everyone, even Hermione.

He stepped back suddenly when the water in the toilet whirled upwards. His charred letter was dripping wet in the right hand of none other than Moaning Myrtle.

Draco blew his bangs upwards. "Hello Myrtle." He said.

"What's this we have here?" Myrtle interrogated. "What are you trying to hide from me Draco?" She asked.

"It's just a letter from father." He said with a shrug.

Myrtle squinted. "Don't lie to me, Draco Malfoy. It's never just a letter." She rose up and sat down on the edge of the toilet bowl, her legs crossed, the soaking wet letter still in her hand. "What's happened now? Are you in trouble for the cabinet taking so long again?"

Draco shook his head. "On the contrary, it's finished."

"Oh!" She squealed and giggled. She flew up to the ceiling and did a few midair somersaults. "You did it! That's my good boy, Draco! You did it! You--"

"Hush!" Draco said angrily. "Myrtle, you can't go screaming like that about something like this!" He went to the sinks in the center of the room and washed his hands. Being inside the old bathroom stalls made him feel dirty, even if he didn't touch anything.

Myrtle floated down beside him. "So. When will it happen?" She asked. "The letter is all smudged from the water." She grinned at him.

Myrtle had heard Draco crying one evening, because of the toll his vow was taking on him. She had comforted him then, and he had unwittingly told her about the vow, about his dark mark, and about how he would be the one to allow the death eaters into the school when the time came. She had promised to never tell a soul, but there was no way to make an unbreakable vow with a ghost. So he became her friend and gained her loyalty.

"Next week." He said dully.

Myrtle pouted. "You don't sound excited at all."

Draco shrugged. "I guess I'm not." He leaned back on the sink and crossed his arms. "You know I've had second thoughts about this before."

"But you made the vow!" She hissed at him. "You have to do it. Besides, this school isn't that great anyway." She thought for a moment. "Well, if you do decide to break your vow..." She twirled around him to his other side. "You can stay with me." She giggled.

Draco grinned. "Thanks Myrtle, but I don't really have a choice. I have to do it." The smile faded from his lips. "But ya'know... If, after everything, something does happen to me next week, I will happily take you up on that offer."

Myrtle squealed with delight. "Yes! What fun we'll have! We can torment Peeves together!"

Draco smiled. His words had been inspired by his softness towards her situation. Her status as a muggle born caused him to associate her with Hermione, and treat her with kindness. And she wasn't nearly as bad as people said. She knew a magnificent amount of information. And she was a good storyteller, leaving him wanting to know what happened next. And she loved to give comfort or advice, which he found he often needed and couldn't get from Hermione, obviously needing to keep his position a secret.

"Definitely." Draco said, pushing himself up off the ledge of the sink. "Well, I have to go to class."

Myrtle put on her pouting face again. "Why bother, when you know what will happen next week?"

"Because I'm a Malfoy." Draco said with pride.