TITLE: Together, Alone
CHARACTERS: Draco Malfoy, Moaning Myrtle
SUMMARY: During HBP, Myrtle provides a non-corporeal shoulder for Draco to lean on.

The high-pitched voice echoes across the loo, and Draco whips around, his wand ready and thoughts of a hex at the front of his mind. "Who's there?" he chokes out, barely keeping his voice under control.

"I know what it's like," the voice says again, and the silvery, translucent head of a bespectacled ghost pokes up over the top of one of the stalls. "Being all alone, with no one who understands you."

Draco sneers at her. Of all the people to witness his very little breakdown, it's a ghost--someone he can't even hex. "I'm not alone," he says sharply, still not lowering his wand.

The ghost blinks at him innocently. "Then what are you crying in here for?"

"I'm not crying." Draco turns to face himself in the mirror: his eyes are still red, his skin still feels stretched, and he knows he can't leave looking like this. Even if no one says anything to him about it, they'll know, and they'll talk about it when he's not around.

There's a rustle of air, and Draco suddenly feels a cold presence beside him. He turns to snap at her, but she's gazing at his reflection almost kindly, which is enough to momentarily startle him. "You know," she says, "I'm very good at keeping secrets. You can tell me what's wrong, and even if I did accidentally tell, no one would believe poor, friendless Myrtle."

She sidles closer to him, and Draco eyes her movement warily, but he holds his ground. He's not going to be scared off by some simpering ghost girl.

"I'm alone, too, you know," she says, tilting her head and meeting his eyes in the mirror. "We could be alone, together."

And that is the last straw, because the only thing worse than being overheard crying by a ghost is getting sincere sympathy from a ghost. Especially this one. "Get away from me," he says roughly, pushing away and storming out of the loo.

The next time it happens, Draco can at least admit that he just might be alone.

"I like to be alone," he says stubbornly to Myrtle, not bothering to wipe his tears. She is hovering by one of the stalls, watching him curiously, and for some reason, her presence is not as infuriating as it was the last time. "Sometimes, it means I'm better than everyone else. I'm capable of things they aren't capable of."

Myrtle folds her arms and stares hard at him. "Why are you here, then?" she asks, pouting. It's almost as if she's disappointed that he isn't as much of a duffer as she is, which strikes Draco as ridiculous. "I didn't know boys like you make a habit of crying in the toilets."

Angry and about to storm out again, he releases his grip on the sides of the sink, but she suddenly softens.

"Whatever it is, even if no one else understands, maybe I could," she says quickly, coming forward hesitantly. "You can tell me why you're crying, and I won't laugh at you." She makes a crossing motion over her heart. "I promise."

Draco studies her. As a rule, he is suspicious of unwarranted kindness. He has already admitted how alone he is, though, and the ghost is desperate for attention, and maybe, it would be worth it to try the truth on for size. Still eying her cautiously, he takes a deep breath. "Because I'm going to die. He's going to kill me, and--"

"I was killed, too," Myrtle interrupts enthusiastically, and Draco gives her a disgusted look, but she is insistent. "I can understand, because I was killed, too. I could tell you what it's like!"

Draco turns away, rolling his eyes. "I don't want to know what it's like."

She cocks her head at him. "Can you stop him from killing you? I didn't know I was going to be killed, but you do. That's a big difference."

Draco curls his lip. "Maybe. I have to do something, though, and I..." He trails off, annoyed that he is actually telling this to a ghost, but almost anxious to say this out loud to someone. "No one can help me, and I've got to do it alone."

"I'd help you, if I could." She dives closer to him, and this time, Draco doesn't draw away. She leans up close to him. "But you're smart, and you're brave, and you're a nice boy. You don't need anyone else."

Draco looks away. He wants to believe that, but hearing it from some stupid ghost who doesn't even know him isn't a way to make him believe it.

He picks up his books from where he had balanced them on the sink, and Myrtle purses her lips. "You'll come back again, won't you?" she asks eagerly. "I listen to you, and then you don't have to be alone."

Draco doesn't respond. He picks up his books and leaves.

Draco isn't even surprised the next time he finds himself crying in the loo.

"Tell me," Myrtle says pleadingly, staying a safe distance from him as he sobs into the sink. He doesn't want her near him, but he doesn't want her to leave. "Tell me, what do you need? I can help you, I promise."

Draco shakes his head. "You can't help," he manages to spit out, trying desperately to get a hold of himself. "And I don't need your help." If he kept this up, crying his heart out to some ghost in the toilets, there was no possibility he'd make it through the task before him.

He grits his teeth, trying to stop his crying, and he reluctantly amends his statement. "Maybe," he says, "maybe all I need is someone to believe that I can do it."

"I think you can!" Myrtle cries. "I believe you can do it, even if no one else does!"

Draco looks over at her. "You don't count," he says bitterly. That would be the case, wouldn't it? The only one who believes in him is a ghost. His mother doesn't believe in him. His father probably doesn't believe in him. Snape certainly doesn't believe in him. And the Dark Lord, of course, does not believe in him. But stupid, dead Moaning Myrtle does.

The realisation that it's him and a ghost against the world wrings him out, and he's crying again.

"Don't!" Myrtle cries. "Don't! Tell me what's wrong, and I can help you!"

"No one can help me," Draco says, fully believing it now. "I can't do it. I can't. It won't work, and unless I do it soon..." He grips the edge of the sink tightly. "He says he'll kill me."

And that is that. Draco has to go through with this task or die trying, and all he has on his side is the ghost of some girl long dead.

He takes a deep breath, trying to get himself under control, and from the corner of his eye, he sees a flash of movement behind him.

Draco yanks his head up, looking into the mirror and meeting the horrified gaze of Harry Potter.