Located at the top of the elegant marble staircase that ascended to the seventh floor of Hogwarts castle, one could find the boys' bathroom. The room was bathed in sunlight, which poured in through the large glass windows, creating a tranquil and soothing atmosphere. Similar to the other bathrooms within the castle, this particular one had the ability to shift from a welcoming space to a dreary and desolate one at a moment's notice. During cloudy and gray days, the lack of sunlight made the room feel particularly somber. Many students avoided the dimly lit corridors and bathrooms, especially when accompanied by the sound of rain hitting the window panes. Despite this, there was one student with a pale complexion and striking white-blond hair who found solace in solitude within these walls.
Draco Malfoy was alone in a bathroom stall, his body shaking in the darkness as he struggled to contain his sobs. The burden of his cursed task had taken a toll on him, transforming the once healthy sixth-year student into a gaunt, pale shadow of his former self. His eyes were sunken and rimmed with dark circles from countless sleepless nights. Despite his efforts to hide his emotions, tears streamed down his hollow cheeks and muffled cries escaped his cracked lips. The abandoned stall offered him some privacy, but it could not shield him from the overwhelming anguish that consumed his weary soul.
He buried his face in his arms, desperate to hide his troubled expression from the world. Unbeknownst to him, a small, ghostly figure peeked around a nearby cubicle, blinking in surprise before gliding towards him. With her thin hair falling in front of her face and thick glasses obscuring her features, the solemn girl watched Draco from a distance, unsure of how to approach him. Although she was intrigued by the boy she often saw weeping in the bathroom, the years had made her hesitant to reach out to others. Once a source of comfort for those in need, she now stood silent and unsure.
Approaching him with a sense of trepidation, she gently spoke to him in a soft tone, carefully choosing her words to suit the delicate situation at hand. Inquiring with concern, she timidly asked, "Are you feeling alright?"
Draco's attention was suddenly brought back to reality as the ghost's words startled him, causing his heart to race in his chest. He was taken aback when their eyes met, blinking in surprise at her unexpected presence.
"I'm sorry," the ghost softly murmured as it slowly retreated, its eyes filled with sorrow and remorse. "It was not my intention to frighten you."
Draco quickly rose from his seat and rushed towards the exit, propelled by a sudden impulse. However, just as he reached for the door handle, he hesitated upon hearing her heartfelt plea, causing his hand to stay suspended in mid-air.
"Please don't go," the ghost said immediately. "I just thought you could use someone to talk to, someone who understands, and I'm Myrtle Warren," she quickly added with a nod of her transparent head.
"I'm aware of who you are," Draco responded coldly, keeping his eyes unwaveringly on the closed door in front of him. "You're the ghost that lingers in the girls' bathroom. I have no desire to engage in conversation with anyone, particularly not a ghost."
"You're right," Myrtle responded promptly, pushing aside the pang of hurt caused by the reprimand. "I didn't intend to invade your personal space," she assured him.
Draco spun around abruptly, his expression filled with irritation and distress evident on his tear-stained face as he faced her. "Are you absolutely certain about that?"
"I can empathize with the emotions you're experiencing," Myrtle started to say in a soothing tone.
"No you can't!" Draco interjected sharply, his hands tightly balled into fists as he exclaimed, "No, you really don't understand! No one does!"
"But I do!" Myrtle fervently claimed, her silver tears welling in her spectral eyes. "I know exactly how you feel! Don't tell me I don't understand when loneliness was the last thing I felt before I died!" With graceful movement, she moved behind the sinks and cautiously observed him.
Draco stood in stunned silence after hearing her words, his expression reflecting a mix of emotions. The sound of rain hitting the window seemed to mirror the inner turmoil brewing between them. Despite having dabbled in communicating with the dead before, he hesitated about accepting her unusual offer this time. This unease stemmed from the sincerity of her gesture, which he found both intriguing and unsettling.
Over the years, Draco had been acutely aware of Myrtle's presence at Hogwarts. He had observed her frequent outbursts of tears, usually triggered by Peeves' mean-spirited pranks, and had heard her anguished cries echoing through the bathroom walls. Until now, he had dismissed her as just another ghost to be ignored. However, something about her offer to communicate with the dead piqued an unexpected curiosity in him, forcing him to reconsider his perception of her. The idea of sharing his thoughts and feelings with a melodramatic ghost who had a tendency to burst into tears at the slightest provocation seemed ludicrous to Draco. As someone who already struggled to comfort upset girls, the notion of consoling a deceased one known for her mournful wails appeared to be a comical challenge. Yet, he couldn't deny the candidness with which she expressed her emotions.
With a deep, contemplative breath, Draco slowly sank back into his seat. The weight of the situation settled heavily on his mind as he grappled with conflicting emotions. The room seemed to fall into an even deeper silence, broken only by the rhythmic drumming of the rain against the windowpane. In that moment, Draco felt a profound sense of introspection washing over him, prompting him to reassess his stance on the offer laid out before him. Despite his initial reservations, he couldn't shake off the curiosity and intrigue that tugged at his thoughts, urging him to delve deeper into this unexpected opportunity.
Myrtle approached Draco with caution, moving slowly to avoid spooking him. She was afraid that any sudden movement might cause him to run away. As she got closer, she noticed the sorrow in his eyes and saw tears streaming down his face. The quiet sobs that shook his body revealed the depth of his misery. His slender frame seemed fragile and vulnerable at that moment.
"What's wrong?" Myrtle asked in a soft and caring manner, as she gazed at the distressed boy with tears in her own eyes.
Draco struggled to speak through his tears. "I can't do it," he admitted between sobs. "I feel like I'm constantly failing… and it's causing harm to others."
Myrtle couldn't stop her own tears from falling as Draco sobbed. "What attempts? Who was injured? Why are you crying?" She sighed and added quickly, "You don't have to explain anything to me. I'm just a ghost after all."
Draco stubbornly refused to reveal any more information, his tears reverberating in the room amidst the sound of rain outside. He feared that his secret intentions would be uncovered, dreading the consequences of being exposed. Despite knowing that the mission he had been tasked with went against his own desires, Draco had attempted to handle it cautiously. He had hoped to complete his assignment and thwart Dumbledore without causing harm to anyone else. However, he was aware that his actions with the cursed necklace and poison-laced mead had been hasty and risky.
"Let me help," Myrtle softly suggested once more. "Tell me what's bothering you."
Draco's anxiety intensified. "I can't," he expressed. "He'll—he'll kill me..."
Myrtle drifted closer, her translucent skin nearly brushing his. "Who is?" She asked in a hushed tone.
On this occasion, Draco was overwhelmed with emotion, shedding tears without restraint, completely oblivious to the impact his sorrow had on the ghostly presence around him.
Myrtle, feeling a deep sense of sadness, let out a heavy sigh and attempted to offer comfort by placing a hand on Draco's arm, even though the ghostly touch passed through him without any consolation.
Draco felt a sudden chill, sending shivers down his spine, but he quickly brushed it off.
"You're going to be fine," she consoled. "No one's going to kill you… whatever you're attempting will work out… you'll see..."
However, Draco remained inconsolable, crying uncontrollably. His eyes locked with Myrtle's, his expression filled with sheer terror. "You have no idea what he's capable of," he exclaimed, his voice shaking with fear. "I've witnessed him take lives in an instant."
"Who is it?" Myrtle asked in frustration. "You can tell me."
Draco's eyes were bloodshot from crying, but he whispered faintly, unable to conceal the terror in his eyes, "He'll kill me if he finds out. He'll torture me. He'll—" His panic prevented him from finishing his sentence, consumed by overwhelming emotions.
"I won't tell...I promise you, I won't," Myrtle assured him.
Draco inhaled deeply, his body shaking. "I shouldn't have joined him," he said with regret in his voice. "It's a mistake! But—but I don't have a choice… I shouldn't have become a-a—" His voice trailed off, lost in a wave of sorrow as he broke down in tears.
"We all make mistakes," Myrtle said quietly. "Even if you made a bad choice, don't let it destroy you. You can always change the course of your actions. I did at one point in my life... it was hard, but it was worth trying."
"I could have made some different choices," Draco spoke with a tinge of bitterness, his gaze shifting to the Dark Mark etched on his forearm. "I've let people take advantage of me, and I accepted way less than I deserve. They taunt me... bully me..." He thought of all the occasions he had endured abuse from the Death Eaters and so-called friends.
"You have to learn to say no without feeling guilty," said Myrtle. "Setting boundaries is healthy. You need to learn to respect and take care of yourself."
Draco was surprised by her words, his eyebrows raising in response to her comments. "Indeed, you seem to have taken great care of yourself, considering you're already deceased," he replied sarcastically as he hiccuped between his words.
Myrtle, perched above the sink, shot him a fierce look as her irritation grew. "I wish people wouldn't assume I'm incapable of understanding their struggles!" Her eyes shimmered with tears of anger as she expressed her frustrations. "Yes, I endured terrible things when I was alive, and I only mention that so you might avoid similar fates!"
"Why do you do that every time?" Draco asked abruptly, his face creased with a frown as he gazed at Myrtle's tear-soaked visage.
"Do what?" She responded.
"Cry all the bloody time!" Draco pressed on, his frustration evident in his tone.
"Well, I could ask you the same question!" Myrtle shot back. "I've seen you here, hidden away, shedding tears just like me!"
Draco hissed in response, his glare intense. "It's none of your concern," he muttered.
Unperturbed, Myrtle scoffed, "Is that so? You should find a different place to cry where no one can witness your vulnerability."
"Yeah, I should have!" Draco exclaimed angrily. "I should have known that you own the whole lavatory, so it's easy for you to pry into other people's business!"
Myrtle swiftly flew down from the sink and positioned herself directly in front of Draco. "It's not my fault you decided to come here more often than I'd like!" She let out a piercing howl to make her point clear.
Draco, finding himself in a ridiculous argument with a ghost, stared at her in disbelief. He let out a frustrated sigh and gradually lowered his eyes to the ground.
"I have nowhere else to go," he muttered, his somber demeanour resurfacing.
Myrtle's anger toward Draco dissipated suddenly upon hearing his words, and a look of concern came over her ghostly face. "I may not be who you'd choose to talk to... Not many do... they don't even miss me... but I'm here..."
Draco remained silent, merely staring at the miserable Myrtle who took his silence as an invitation to keep talking.
"I had my moments too, you know," she said gloomily, looking at Draco out of swollen eyes as she glided back to the sink and sat down. "I would hide for hours... and no one cared what I felt or where I went... people would rather I didn't show up anymore..."
"I wish I could avoid this and just leave," Draco said somberly, his expression downcast. Assigned by the malevolent ruler, the challenge was turning out to be way tougher than he initially thought it would be. The consequences of not being able to eliminate Dumbledore were weighing heavily on him. Initially, his motivation stemmed from a desire for retribution and a chance to redeem his family's honor in the eyes of the Dark Lord, but now the stress was becoming unbearable. His inner sense of right and wrong was creating turmoil within him. Despite his reservations, he felt trapped and compelled to continue on this treacherous path.
Myrtle looked at him with an expression of utter disbelief. "What on earth could have possibly led you to entertain such a thought?"
Draco responded with a nonchalant shrug, his mind consumed by resentful thoughts of the Dark Lord. "I thought if he returned, my family's glory days would also come back. I was ready to serve him and his new regime if he ever succeeded—but I was wrong... he discredited my father when he was sent to Azkaban. He thought my father was a failure... I was left with no choice but to take on his responsibilities and restore honor to our family..." Panic crept back into Draco's voice. "I have no options! Their safety depends on me! I know he expects me to fail this task—but I can't do it! I just want to leave all of this behind." His hands trembled. He had successfully persuaded himself that the world would greatly benefit from the absence of the Hogwarts Headmaster. His mind was fully occupied by his determination to fulfill the Dark Lord's mission, but this conviction was slowly diminishing. The thought of taking a life weighed heavy on his conscience, causing him to question his actions.
Myrtle looked at Draco with a worried expression, showing her genuine concern in her eyes. "You don't have to do anything you don't want to," she comforted him. "The choice is completely yours." With her glasses reflecting her deep gaze, she insisted, "Tell me who he is… I can help you."
Draco's complexion drained of color, reflecting fear and desperation in his expression. With a tremor in his voice, he explained, "You're not grasping the gravity of the situation. He made a menacing threat—if I refuse to comply, he vowed to end my life… and he cruelly threatened harm to my entire family."
"We can find ways to protect your family and you," Myrtle assured him kindly, trying to ease his anguish. "You could always speak to the Headmaster… tell him what's happening and he can—"
"Haven't you been listening?" Draco interjected, his voice laced with frustration and anger. "It's hard enough for me to talk to you about this, let alone the Headmaster. Besides, he can't know... And," he added in a hushed tone that forced Myrtle to lean in closer to catch his every word, "not even Potter."
In surprise, Myrtle gazed at Draco, her misty eyes focused on him. "Harry Potter?" she asked.
Draco's expression turned into a scowl upon hearing Potter's name. He chose not to react, staying silent and refusing to acknowledge her words.
Myrtle's eyes drifted off into the distance. "I don't think you need to worry about him," she replied. "I've always thought Harry was so sweet and not the type to pry into other people's business—" She then threw in a sharp comment, "Unlike Peeves, who takes pleasure in making me miserable on a regular basis."
Draco shook his head. "You're wrong about Potter. He's been acting strange around me lately. I've caught him watching me—I'm certain he already suspects something." He recalled the caution Severus Snape had given him about someone starting to become wary of his unusual behaviors: showing less enthusiasm for Quidditch, neglecting his studies and prefect responsibilities, and even refusing to partake in teasing Potter and his companions. Without a doubt, Potter had taken notice of these changes. Nonetheless, Draco remained indifferent to Potter's observations. He prioritized his mission above all else.
Myrtle looked at Draco with a mix of confusion and curiosity, trying to make sense of his words. "What does he suspect you of?" she sked, her brow furrowing with concern.
Draco's eyes squinted with frosty annoyance as memories of his previous unsuccessful endeavor resurfaced. "Potter needs to mind his own business and stop meddling in my plans," he seethed through clenched teeth. With a forceful thud of his feet against the floor, Draco released a cry of frustration. "I'll just have to be more careful and make sure he doesn't interfere next time."
Myrtle tensed up beside him, her body rigid with tension as she attempted to defend Harry. "I don't think Harry would get involved—"
"Keep quiet, Mudblood!" Draco snarled, cutting her off in fury. He clearly had no interest in hearing Myrtle defend Potter further. "You don't know what you're talking about! You're clueless!"
"Oh, really!" Myrtle retorted swiftly, her eyes flashing with rage to match Draco's, though tears welled up beneath her eyelids. "Yet it's alright for you to hurl hurtful insults, the same ones people used to fling at me so often in the past—"
"Don't start crying now!" Draco hissed. "I've got enough problems without you adding to them."
Stung by his words, Myrtle floated upward with a threatening air. "I was just trying to keep you company so you wouldn't be lonely!" she cried, deeply upset by his ungrateful behavior.
"I might have accepted if you'd stop crying around me. You're talking nonsense!" Draco snapped.
"You don't have to be so rude to me," she rebuked. "I'm the only one putting up with your ridiculous behavior right now instead of leaving you alone. You should be grateful."
Although Draco did not specifically request her presence, he couldn't ignore the fact that she made a valid point. He took a deep breath and bowed his head in acknowledgment. The atmosphere between them was heavy as they both sat in silence, neither one of them saying a word. After a moment of contemplation, Draco's anger subsided and he started to speak in a calm tone.
"I know I've been acting like a jerk, but I couldn't control it. I've hurt people's feelings—"
"And mine!" Myrtle interjected loudly, miffed at being left out.
Draco rolled his eyes. "And ghosts," he conceded.
Though irked, Myrtle seemed pleased to be included after all.
"This isn't my normal self," Draco continued honestly. "Confiding my inner thoughts to another..."
"Why not?" Myrtle asked.
Draco paused before responding, "It's difficult to trust others these days. People constantly belittle me, so I've chosen isolation to scheme alone. Some feign interest in my plans just to steal the glory for themselves." His mind drifted to Severus Snape, a cunning and persistent man who sought to uncover his plans. Draco was steadfast in his refusal to accept any assistance or protection from Snape, despite the favoritism he received from the Dark Lord. Despite the air of secrecy surrounding both men, Draco had a deep-seated distrust of Snape and questioned his loyalty.
"Don't let it bother you when people criticize or gossip about you," advised Myrtle gently. "Those people are just trying to find flaws in your life to distract from their own faults. I learned that the hard way—it was awful!" She spoke dramatically, "I wasted so much energy getting upset over little things I couldn't control. Before I knew it, I was—I was—" Myrtle struggled to maintain her composure and not weep in front of the boy.
Before Myrtle finished speaking, Draco had already deduced that the word she was trying to convey was 'dead'. This realization made him ponder on the concept of death, as he had never experienced it personally. He wondered about the nature of dying—whether it entailed pain or tranquility. The thought of failing his task and facing the wrath of the Dark Lord brought fear to Draco's mind. He contemplated the possibility of enduring prolonged suffering or meeting a swift and brutal demise at the hands of his Master. This unsettling thought caused Draco to feel a shiver of dread creeping down his spine.
Draco spoke quietly, "All I'm saying is... I don't want to fail. Even though some may already see me as a failure."
"Failures are part of growth," Myrtle said firmly. "Believe in yourself and you will succeed. You are not a failure."
Draco's expression softened with a slight and melancholic grin forming on his face.
A heavy quiet settled between them once again, the weight of impending departure hanging in the air. Draco realized that he had lingered long enough and needed to make his way back to the Slytherin common room. This sudden movement caught Myrtle off guard, causing her to pause in surprise.
"Are you leaving?" Myrtle asked.
"Yeah," Draco nodded. "I have to. I'm still a student after all."
Myrtle looked suddenly mournful, but with a hopeful gaze, she asked, "Will I see you again?"
"Maybe," Draco said curtly. He turned to walk out the door but glanced back and said, "Promise me you won't tell anyone about our conversation."
"Your secret is safe with me. I promise," Myrtle said, raising her hand in a gesture of confidence.
Draco smirked. "Thanks," he said, then disappeared behind the door.
A single ray of watery light pierced the bathroom window, illuminating the spot where the blond-haired boy had stood moments before.
THE END