A/N: Based on Half Blood Prince. Just another possibility. One I prefer. Hope you like it :)

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K Rowling.

How had this happened? He had expected to have to do something horrible, but not this, anything but this... How could they expect this of him? He had no choice, if he didn't, they would kill him. He was in way over his head and there was no way out, nowhere to hide... He couldn't tell anyone how he felt, none of his 'friends' could be trusted anymore. He refused to be seen as a coward. The only one he could talk to was Myrtle. She made him feel worse, she delighted in his fear and desperation, smiling gleefully with every tear he shed, lending small comfort if she offered any at all. Yet despite how much worse he felt, he kept coming back to her.

One day, he was particularly upset. He couldn't do it. He had tried and almost killed two other people, taking their lives would not have pleased him, the thought made his insides squirm. He was so confused, frightened and filled with remorse that even Myrtle could not bring herself to find his predicament enjoyable.

She floated near to him and laid her pearly translucent hand on his shoulder. It made him shiver and he found it hard to cry quietly. He really wished he could see his mother or have the cold bathroom floor open up and swallow him. He heard a slight creak and his eyes flashed to the mirror, to see who had disturbed the door behind him.

"Potter!" he yelled, "Get out!"

Harry was startled, firstly by the fact that Draco Malfoy was capable of crying and secondly by the anger in his voice. Sure, they had angered one another before, but never like this, Harry had never heard his voice shake with fury like this.

Harry didn't move, he was too shocked to make his limbs work. Malfoy's eyes narrowed and he turned around. Harry stood there gaping at him, Draco bitterly thought that he was probably finding this all very amusing. He would not allow Potter to see him so vulnerable and simply walk away unharmed. He pulled his wand out as he approached Harry and concentrated hard on the most dangerous spell he knew.

"Draco..." Harry said quietly. It disturbed him to see Draco so upset. Draco was vicious and heartless, he didn't cry in toilets like a girl. For him to be this upset, something must be seriously wrong. His suspicions about Draco being a newly recruited Death Eater were as good as confirmed in his mind. He could only imagine what horrid things they had done to his family to force him to do whatever it was they wanted.

Draco paused, himself startled by Harry's voice. They stood a few metres apart, each one looking at the other, trying to figure something out.

Harry decided to take the risk that if Malfoy was going to jinx him, his emotional state would cause shoddy spellwork and leave Harry relatively uninjured; he did not draw his wand. Without breaking eye contact, Harry stretched his arm behind him and closed the bathroom door.

"Draco... I'm not going to fight you," Harry said, indicating with his hands that they were empty and keeping away from his pockets. He watched Draco carefully, making sure that he was going to listen rather than attack. He seemed very confused, but reasonable nonetheless.

"What have they asked you to do?" Harry ventured carefully and quietly.

Draco's eyes flashed and he spat at Harry, "They?" He had tried to fill his voice with malice and coldness, but his throat betrayed him and his voice wavered, telling Harry how afraid he really was.

Harry looked at the shiny lines down Draco's pale cheeks, the damp patch on his collar, the redness of his eyes. Seeing his nemesis like this, so afraid and broken, made him hate Voldemort even more. He felt no ill will towards Malfoy, his dislike and bitterness had been subdued.

"The Order can protect you, and your family..."

Draco's eyes flashed to Harry's face, suspicious but hopeful. Harry could see the internal battle raging within Draco's mind and he tried to compose his face in a way that was reassuring but not pitying or too helpful. He knew that Draco would not accept help from Harry; it had to be his choice.

Myrtle watched with little interest from the ceiling. She was kind enough to remain silent but she was sorely tempted to encourage a fight. The thought of Draco killing Harry and giving her a much desired companion made her spirits rise. She still fondly remembered the time Harry had used the Prefect's bathroom.

Draco lowered his wand hand slightly and took a few steps back, consumed by thought. Harry very slowly moved to the other side of the bathroom and sat down on a step, making sure he kept within Draco's sight, but far enough away that his movement didn't seem to be a threat.

He sat and waited as Draco thought. He thought for a very long time. Was there a way out of this mess at last? Could it really be done?

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