Chapter 9
One Saturday morning, Draco headed down to the Great Hall with Crabbe and Goyle.
"Are you... you know..." Crabbe began.
"Are we doing it again today?" Goyle finished.
Draco narrowed his eyes at them. "I told you last night, yes."
Neither of them looked thrilled at the prospect.
"How much longer..." Crabbe tried again.
Goyle, again, picked up the slack: "How much longer do you think it'll be?"
Draco stopped suddenly and Crabbe and Goyle bumped into him. They quickly took several fearful steps back. Draco spun sharply back at them.
"Oh, I'm sorry," he said, his voice gentle and venomous. Crabbe and Goyle exchanged worried looks. "Are... are you boys not having fun?"
"Draco, we just meant-" Goyle said, placatingly.
"Is your job too hard for you?" Draco hissed, taking a step closer to them. "Having regrets, now, are we?"
"It's just taking so long-"
"You're right, Goyle, it is. I see that now. How I wish I had actually been trying to follow the Dark Lord's orders instead of dicking around all the time!"
"It's just-" Crabbe tried to interject, but Draco held up a pale hand to stop him. "Oh, I understand perfectly. Your role is just so difficult, so risky, keeping a lookout-"
"Well, we do have to take that rotten potion-" Goyle mumbled.
"The Dark Lord is poised to take over our world, and our families stand behind him, putting their faith in him," Draco dropped his voice so as not to be heard by the stream of sixth years filing into the Hall. "And you're complaining about how a potion tastes?"
"All we wanted to know was how much longer we're doing this, is all," Crabbe said sullenly.
"I don't know how much longer, all right? It's taking longer than I thought it would." It pained him to admit this.
Crabbe licked his lips and opened his mouth again, but Draco shut him down. "Look, it's none of your business what I'm doing, Crabbe, you and Goyle just do as you're told and keep a lookout!"
"I tell my friends what I'm up to, if I want to keep a lookout for me," he heard behind him suddenly.
He whirled around, hand already flying to his robe pocket, searching for his wand. Potter! He heard! He instinctively wanted to Obliviate him on the spot - not that it'd be the first time - but just then all four Heads of the Houses were calling for silence, and their Apparition instructor began their first lesson. Draco only half-listened, his mind racing through what had been said and feeling fairly certain that Potter couldn't have heard anything useful. After a moment, he found himself smirking. He almost wished Potter would figure out what he was doing. Walk in on him in the Room of Requirement. That could actually be fun.
Draco almost had to wrench himself away from the lure of the Quidditch pitch. Everyone was making their way excitedly outdoors while Crabbe and Goyle shuddered their way through their transformations after taking great big gulps of Polyjuice Potion.
Draco let his eyes sweep them up and down and, satisfied, nodded firmly. "Everyone should be outside by now. Let's go." The two girls Crabbe and Goyle had turned into did not look like they shared his enthusiasm.
As they headed toward the Room of Requirement, they ran right into Potter. For a crazy second, Draco imagined his little fantasy had come true - Potter had figured out what he was up to and was here to stop him. I'd love to see him try, he thought, and gave a dry laugh. He kept walking.
"Where're you going?" Potter asked.
Draco turned to look at him. "Yeah, I'm really going to tell you, because it's your business, Potter. You better hurry up, they'll be waiting for 'the Chosen Captain' - 'the Boy who Scored' - whatever they call you these days."
He made it a point to slam his shoulder against Potter as he passed him - just a quick touch, a small whiff of his scent - and he and Crabbe and Goyle left him standing in the corridor, clearly confused. Draco felt his lip curl into a smug smile. Potter may have forgotten what happened the year before, but everything that led up to that stolen moment in an empty classroom remained the same. He sought him out. On the train, he'd snuck into their compartment under his Invisibility Cloak to watch him. Even now, he wanted to know why he wasn't outside with the rest of the school. Why did he even care?
Draco shook his head to center his thoughts. He had more important things to worry about. But once he finished his task, maybe he'd lure Potter again. One last time. And he'd let him remember it, this time.
He swallowed hard as a horrible thought made his stomach clench. If he was successful, if the Dark Lord's plan worked, Potter wouldn't have long to tell anyone about it, anyway.
"Reparo," Draco said firmly, and the crack along the door healed itself. Draco swung the door shut carefully and latched it - and with a great groan, the hinges snapped off and he had to take several steps back to keep the door from falling on his head. His blood pressure spiked so rapidly he almost felt like snapping his own wand in frustration. I'm never going to fix this. His chest heaved with the sobs that threatened to come out of him.
He couldn't even look at the damn Cabinet anymore. He needed to get out of there.
He left the Room of Requirement and saw Crabbe and Goyle standing on either end of the corridor. They looked at him apprehensively. Goyle must have seen something in his face because he began to approach, asking, "Draco, are you alri-"
"Leave!" Draco bellowed, and, startled, Crabbe and Goyle darted in opposite directions.
Draco strode aimlessly, no destination in mind. He just wanted to get away from that fucking Room.
He stumbled into one of the boys' bathrooms, which was thankfully deserted. He stood at one of the sinks and studied his reflection in the mirror above it. He looked half dead. Gaunt, tired, a greenish tinge to his skin. He gave a mirthless laugh.
You're a failure, said a voice in his head. The Dark Lord's always known you were, and set you up to fail anyway. Even Harry-fucking-Potter knows it - he knew it even back then on that first train ride to Hogwarts. Knew better than to make friends with the likes of you.
The thought of Potter made him groan. But he hadn't imagined things. Potter had wanted him - with a little coaxing - but he'd wanted him. Saint Potter, who took pity on the weak and pathetic - just look at the company he kept, for Merlin's sake.
The memory of Potter succumbing to him with the aid of a spell as simple as a pheromone-enhancing charm sent a bolt of heat through him, and his cock stirred in response. Draco gripped himself through his robes and gasped. He'd give anything to have Potter back beneath him right then - the almighty and beloved Potter - begging for it.
He unzipped his trousers and pulled out his cock. It was almost trembling with the need to be touched. His left hand gripped the porcelain sink while the other stroked his length. He gripped the shaft firmly and matched each stroke to the rhythm of his breaths - slow and labored. You're wanking in a bathroom, the voice reminded him. Anyone could just walk in.
He found that the idea thrilled him... made him harder, even. Then he pictured Potter walking in. Imagined the sight of his enemy touching himself out in the open like this would jog something out of the fog of his Obliviation. The same drive that had led Potter to spread his legs for him would awaken, and he'd walk right up to him and get on his knees and take him in his mouth.
"God," Draco groaned, jerking his hand faster. He thought of green eyes peering up at him over round glasses, of lips tight around the tip of his cock. The image pushed him over the edge - he frantically rubbed his cock as fast as he could and the buildup of his climax peaked - a dribble of white cum splattered in the sink. He panted, looking at his sickly complexion in the mirror.
Over his shoulder, he saw two eyes staring at him through a pair of thick glasses.
He shoved his cock back in his pants, turning frantically. A girl - no, a ghost - was hovering sullenly in the entrance to one of the stalls.
"What... what are you... how long have you been there?" Draco spat angrily.
"A while," the ghost said simply.
"You've just been watching me?" Draco narrowed his eyes.
"There's not much else to do when you're a ghost," she said, shrugging.
"That's a bit sick, isn't it?"
"You were doing it where anyone could just walk in and see, you know."
Draco had no response, so he just turned his back on her and used his wand to clean up the mess in the sink.
"My name's Myrtle," the ghost continued. "I mostly haunt the girls' bathroom on the second floor, but I get bored there sometimes."
"Charmed," Draco sneered. "Now go be a voyeur somewhere else."
"You're not the only boy who comes in here to do that, you know."
"Oh, fantastic," Draco muttered, mostly to himself. "I'm being comforted by a ghost. How pathetic does that make me?" He busied himself washing his hands and splashing his face with cold water.
"I don't think it's pathetic!" the ghost said, indignantly. "You must be very lonely."
Draco's breath caught. "I'm not lonely," he said through gritted teeth. "I'm just..." He caught himself trying to explain himself to a ghost and stopped. "Leave me alone."
Myrtle glided to his side and placed a hand that he couldn't feel over his shoulder. "I know what it's like to be alone," she said. "It took people ages to find my body when I died. I guess nobody missed me."
Draco's heart seized. He wondered who'd miss him if he died... when he died, since the Dark Lord was neither patient nor forgiving. Tears started stinging his eyes.
"Ooh, don't cry..." Myrtle cooed softly.
But Draco was covering his face with both hands, muffling his sobs with his palms. He was going to fail. He was going to die and no one would mourn him.
Draco kept returning to the Vanishing Cabinet, each time with more bits of yew wood or a Transfiguration book or a piece of parchment with Charms instructions, but it kept resisting his magic - like it sensed the fear in his heart and found him, just like everyone else did, a failure.
He cast one last desperate "Reparo!" at the door, which creaked and trembled feebly but remained resolutely cracked.
He stormed out of the Room of Requirement and almost ran for the boys' bathroom, barely making it to the U-bend before emptying his stomach's contents. He grasped the porcelain as he dry-heaved, spittle dribbling from his lips. Pathetic.
His eyes stung with tears as he shuffled heavily to the sink and scooped water into his mouth to rinse out the taste of bile. He sniffled, trying to stop the tears from spilling out, but failed- he wiped them away roughly.
"Don't," Myrtle had materialized by his side, her weightless hand on his back. "Don't... tell me what's wrong... I can help you..."
"No one can help me," he said, his head hung in defeat. His shoulders were heaving with the effort to stifle the sobs wracking his body. "I can't do it... I can't... It won't work... and unles I do it soon... he says he'll kill me..."
He dragged his eyes back to the cracked mirror, bracing himself for his loathsome reflection. His heart seemed to stop when he saw Potter instead, standing near the bathroom entrance.
It's him. He turned frantically. Always him. His wand was out and pointed at him before he could even blink, a non-verbal hex had formulated in his mind before he even realized it -
it missed, blasting a wall lamp instead. He cast a Shielding Charm just in time as a hex bounced off it. Why is he here? Why is it that he just won't leave me be?
He raised his wand to hex Potter, just obliterate him and find some peace from him - Myrtle was screaming for them to stop, but he couldn't - his hex missed, and then so did Potter's - he felt the spell zip hotly past his ear and then explode the cistern behind him - water sprayed out in all directions, covering everying.
Just leave me, stay away from me, Draco begged silently, and raised his wand in blind desperation. "Cruci-"
"SECTUMSEMPRA!" Potter's spell had drowned him out - and for a split second, Draco felt like he was drowning, too. Then, a searing pain as he felt his skin splitting in two, right across his chest. His throat filled with blood, and he coughed out a mouthful of red splatter. What...?
But then he was falling back, his vision darkening until he saw no more.
A/N: Some dialogue and details borrowed from HP & tHBP. No copyright infringement intended. Enjoy!