A/N: Hey everyone! Before you read this we wanted to say that we are a we. As in two people. My name is Hatice and I'm on the keyboard and my friend Ezgi is on the phone. I really hope you enjoy this. We probably made spelling or grammar mistakes because it's not our mother language. So have fun! Oh, and Ezgi says hi!

-E & H.N.

Disclaimer: Harry Potter universe doesn't belong to us, it belongs to JKR. And our bank accounts are a proof of that.

Chapter One, A Broken Boy

Did Draco Malfoy, the infamous prince of Slytherin, and the heir of the Malfoy fortune, believe in the death eaters ideology anymore? He wasn't so sure of that these days. A thing he had known for sure was that if he couldn't finish his mission his whole family –and himself- would be murdered in most brutal ways.

Aunt Bellatrix had congratulated him, even before the dark lord himself announced the task. But the little thing that he didn't know, Draco Malfoy wasn't a murderer. Yes, he could be cocky, cunning, even a cold hearted bastard like most people say. But he didn't have the guts to look a man in the eye as he takes his last breath.

So there he was, once again, in the first-floor girls' bathroom while tears stream down his face, ready to pour his heart out to the lavatory's infamous ghost, Moaning Myrtle. How fucking pathetic.

He was doing all the things that his cruel father categorized as 'the things that Malfoys don't do'

Crying, sitting alone in a girls'-bathroom because he was too depressed, and the most important one; talking to mudbloods.

He didn't get disgusted by muggles anymore, he mostly pitied them. They weren't even aware of that they were going die soon. The dark lord was rising. Harry Potter –the golden boy of the wizarding world- was their last hope. Of course he wasn't going to succeed on his own, but he was an item for the light side. He was like a mascot. Without him, lifting up the spirits, they couldn't win, the folk would simply give up.

That's why Draco was actually sad about his mission. He was destined to kill the boy who lived, that meant to destroy what was left of the Order.

To accomplish his mission he followed Potter nearly everywhere. To classes, to bathroom, to Qudditch exercises, to the dorm room… Mostly Potter was accompanied by Weasel, Mudblood or Weaselette. Well actually ever since Weasel and Potty got themselves girlfriends –poor girls he might add- the mudblood was kind of lonely, it was almost sad. Almost, he thought while he was waiting Myrtle to come back from wherever in the bloody hell she was. He wiped his tears of his face and looked in the mirror. His reflection was paler than ever and he looked much sadder and tired than normal. He had bags under his eyes, probably from not sleeping well, his sleeping schedule was a mess. He was thinner because he had been skipping meals. He was miserable in general.

He didn't want to be a little pawn in Voldemort's sadistic, self-centered game. He was a horrible creature –he wasn't even a human anymore- with disturbing ideas about blood-superiority. Even Draco was raised to believe these idiotic set of rules by his family, he could see the sense now. He still thought mudbloods were below him but that didn't mean that they deserved to die. They also had right to live their little pointless lives.

His thoughts were interrupted by the footsteps coming from the entrance. He cursed silently as he tried to hide there wasn't enough time. Suddenly he was facing with Hermione Granger, of all people. She looked as usual, her hair was a disaster, her robes were perfectly clean and she had a book in her hand.

"I…" Draco didn't know what to say. But he got himself together and spoke. "What are you doing here, Granger?"

"Malfoy." Said Granger, looking as surprised as him. "That's an interesting turn of events."

"What events?" Draco asked as he tried to move closer to the door.

"You were on our tail for days and I thought you were after Harry. But it seems you are following me. I'm flattered actually." Said the bookworm with a sarcastic tone.

"Like I would waste my precious time on you or Potty. Whatever, I'm asking again, what in seven hells you're doing here? Looking for a place to cry over your unfaithful Weasel?" Draco asked, trying to make her leave the room by insulting her.

"Well, I could ask you the same question. Did Zabini break up with you? Do you need a shoulder to cry on?"

Draco snorted at her witty comeback. "No, Granger. I was having quality time on my own before you showed up and ruined it, like you always do."

"Aww, it's okay to confess that you fancy Myrtle. But don't worry my lips are sealed." Said Granger with an amused face.

Draco looked into her eyes with anger. "Fuck off, Granger, will you?"

Granger looked innocently. "Oh, you know I can't. You should know why people go to the bathroom." The platin-blond looked at her with a blank expression as she continued. "Or don't you members of the elite pureblood families take a piss?"

"Granger, I am asking a serious question. Why are you here?"

"I just explained it, didn't I?"

With that the Slytherin snapped. "I said get the fuck out, you filthy little mudblood! Your presence disgust me!"

The bushy haired Gryffindor snickered. When she opened her mouth to talk, there was a dangerous calmness in her voice.

"You know what, Malfoy? Your words can't get to me anymore. I know who I am very well and closed-minded gits like you can't get me down. I am more skillful in magic than you'll ever be and that's the proof that didn't 'steal' my magic."

Draco was too tired and he honestly did not care for a fight at that moment so he ended the conversation right there. "Okay Granger, whatever you say. Even if its bullshit and your mind is filled with unicorns and butterflies, I'm not going to argue. I really don't care for your words."

With that Draco left the bathroom without even seeing the ghost. He was going sulk somewhere else.

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Hermione Granger was an observant person. She noticed little things like Harry ran his hand through his hair when he was nervous and Ronald's ears reddened when he was angry. But in the last few days the thing that she noticed was Malfoy. He was never near them, he kept a good distance between them but he was always in the background, watching them. Hermione was a smart girl, she didn't want to alarm her friends, they were a lot immature in a panic situation. Instead she kept the little information to herself and started to study the enemy. His eyes were calculating most of the time and he never got distracted on his watch. She must admit that he was an intelligent bloke, even if he was an evil ferret. Aside from her, Ron and Harry had no idea that Malfoy was watching their every move.

She was thinking fast as she thought of the possibilities. But she never got an answer. Why was Draco Malfoy following them? Was Harry right about him joining the Death Eaters?

She had to find out or Harrys life could be in danger. She had to keep an eye on Malfoy from now on.

She had to stalk the stalker.

But there was an odd thing, when she walked into that bathroom he was crying and he looked so broken at first. Perhaps he was overwhelmed with the pressure of being a death eater or Zabini really dumped him, she couldn't know for sure but there was one thing she was sure of; he was miserable. He didn't even continue fighting, he just gave up. That's was very uncharacteristic of him.

The day after the first incident she decided to observe him secretly, she had to know why he was crying in that bathroom. So she hid in the lavatory and waited for him to come. After a half an hour Malfoy stormed in with a furious expression on his face. He couldn't see her since she was under Harrys invisibility cloak. She simply borrowed it for his sake.

Malfoy cast a silencing spell on the door and started shouting like a madman.

"I CAN'T DO THIS ANYMORE!"

Hermione wondered what he was talking about. He sure seemed angry and frustrated about it. Her thoughts stopped when she heard a glass shattering. Malfoy had just punched a mirror. She looked at him with pity and got closer. He was clearly crying and mumbling something under his breath. His hand was bleeding but he didn't seemed to care. He put his head between his hands, he was shaking uncontrollably. His hair got stained with his pure blood and he leaned back and closed his eyes as he spoke with a whisper that would have made a grown man cry.

"I don't know what to believe in anymore."