This is actually chapter six of my original Dramione story so in order for this to make more sense you probably should read the first five parts. They aren't long and it's labeled "Just Another Dramione" Under the usernaeme: muggleindenial so check it out pretty please!
He sat heavily on the damp, tiled floor. Myrtle hummed happily above him. He had decided to answer her pleas anyways and stop by for a visit. It wasn't like Pansy was just going to waltz in at any moment, and Blaise wouldn't even dream of coming anywhere near this place so he was safe. For now anyways.
"I just knew you'd come! I knew you weren't like the others! Oh Draco..." She squealed, turning in arching loop de loops. Malfoy fought the urge to roll his eyes. He may have returned, but that was only because he would have felt guilty for ditching the gloomy little mudblood.
"Don't get too used to it. One day I'll disappoint you. Just like I disappoint everybody." He answered shortly. Myrtle just shook her head disbelievingly. He again fought back a gigantic eye roll.
"Oh no! I don't think you could ever disappoint me. You're good." She simpered, the thick lenses of her glasses flashing in the dim light. He scoffed loudly, tossing his hair out of his eyes with a deft hand.
"Trust me...I'm not good. You don't know what I've done." He shot back. Myrtle smiled down on him kindly. He felt frustration burning beneath the surface. Why couldn't she just understand? "I'm not Myrtle. I've done bad things." She swooped down next to him and sat on the floor. She pulled her knees up to her chest, her icy, transparent arm just brushing his.
"You could never be bad. You're the only one who has ever come to see me. Not even Harry comes to visit me in my toilet anymore." She warbled. Her misty eyes turned to gaze at him with a watery stare. He stood up rapidly, strutting over to the sink across from him. He glared at his pale faced reflection, the shadows beneath his eyes consuming the only light in his face.
"Potter." He spat. "That stupid prat doesn't give a rats about anyone but those weazles and the buck toothed beaver." He smirked at his own comment appreciatively. He never seemed to run out of insults.
"Who? Hermione? She's not THAT bad. She's always been very kind to me." Myrtle asked. Draco just shook his head and turned to look at Myrtle still sitting on the ground looking up at him questioningly.
"She hates me." He replied bitterly. He remembered the force she had delivered in that one punch back in third year. Her eyes were determined and filled with hatred, her face contorted in anger. "She has every reason to. She doesn't know, but I'm the one who nearly killed Weasley. She would murder me for it."
"Ronald was always mean to me anyways. I don't blame you Draco." Myrtle sympathised. Malfoy glared down into the grimey sink, remembering with horror that he had nearly killed the red headed giant.
"I didn't mean to." He said in a shaking voice. "I hate him...but I would never...I mean I wouldn't want to...it just happened." His hands shuddered on either side of the basin. He heard Myrtle sigh.
"Of course not Drakey. You're not bad." He felt a fridgid hand cover his own white, shivering knuckles. He shuddered under her touch.
"Please don't call me Drakey. Pansy calls me that." He said rather coldly. Myrtle shook her head dismissively. His unfriendly tone didn't seem to set her off like he was afraid it would. "Stop saying that I'm good. It's annoying as hell. I know I'm a bad person. I'm going to be a murder and I've got no choice." Draco turned to Myrtle who was biting her lip uncertainly.
"You don't have to be. Why should you if you don't want to?" She murmured in an attempt at comforting him, but he just shrugged her off. His heart weighed heavily in his chest.
"He'll kill me." Malfoy whispered. Myrtle started in shock, her grip on his hand tightened and he winced under her cold fingers.
"Who Draco? Why don't you run?" She protested. Her voice became it's usual watery tremor. He could sense she was on the verge of disolving in tears.
"I can't. He'd catch me. I've got to do it. But I don't know if I can." He breathed, finally voicing his fears out loud. Myrtle gulped wetly. He felt goose bumps spreading across his skin, like they were being watched, but he hadn't heard the door open so there couldn't be.
"Tell me Draco. What's going on? Please...you can trust me. You're not alone." She soothed, but he could hear the pleading in her voice. He choked loudly trying to swallow his despair.
"I have no one. You can't help me. No one can." He mumbled, tears blinding his eyes. How did it come to this? A counseling session with Myrtle...he was Draco Malfoy. He didn't go to pimply little mud blood ghosts with his problems, but then again he was alone. Who in the world did he have watching his back? No one.
"Malfoy?" A surprised voice sounded behind him. He was startled out of his stupor, and he snapped his eyes to the mirror, and who was standing behind him, but Potty himself. Draco could feel rage rising inside him. So Potter had followed him had he? To see if the rumors were true, no doubt. He whipped around and shot the cruciatus curse at Harry.
Potter ducked out of the way and shot a stunning spell straight back at Draco, who sprinted behind one of the stalls. He was just about to send a killing curse back at Potty, when he heard a strange spell yelled into the air. He barely was aware of his surrounding. Water was everywhere and shattered tiles littered the floor. Myrtle was screaming and shrieking and crying, swooping over their heads in an utter terror.
In a moment he was in agony. Blood flooded his eyes and he felt himself go crashing to the floor. He was writhing and he couldn't stop the spasms wracking his body. The once dark room seemed to glare with light. He could hardly hear a thing. He was vaguely aware of Myrtles throbbing sobs echoing throughout the bathroom. A face leaned over him. He could see a pare of glasses swimming above him. Although he was shuddering with pain, the anger still surged through him, but pain soon blinded these emotions and he just lay on the floor moaning, his whole body twitching uncontrollably.
"No...no...Malfoy...no..." Potter groaned somewhere next to him. He heard footsteps clatter across the floor and a door swing shut with a bang. Myrtle continued to cry helplessly. He really was alone. It was all for nothing...he was going to die anyways, it didn't seem to matter what he did. He always was alone and now he was parting from life, slowly, painfully. Maybe it was better this way. He wouldn't have to kill anyone, and he could just leave all of his troubles behind.
The door swung back open, and he heard slow feet approaching. Why did Potter come back? His eyes rolled in his head, trying to find a face, but his vision was blurry and he couldn't seem to focus on any one thing.
"D-Draco?" A shivering voice asked. He let out a rasp to indicate that it was him. A hand lightly touched his chest, and a face did seem to appear out of the nothingness. Granger. She was petrified, her horrified eyes roved over him. He gulped as she smoothed his hair out of his eyes. Fear gripped him. Why was she here? A shock of pain flooded his body and all thought left his mind and twisted him into agony.
"I-it's okay. Stay with me...Harry's going to get help. You're going to be okay." She shuddered as she looked down at his ripped torso. He felt close to death. He was going to die with a mudblood leaning over him. How pitiful... but at the same time he couldn't pinpoint why, but he was glad it was her and not someone else.
She was very beautiful. This thought occured to him out of no where. He detested himself for it, but he had to admit, she was extremely pretty. Her brown eyes were warm, and was it just him or was she crying? Why was she crying? He was dying, that should be a cause for celebration. Draco Malfoy is dead! Horrah! At long last...but no. She was actually crying.
"I'm here Draco, it'll be alright. You're going to be okay. You're fine...I promise."