This Unlikely Pairing

Draco was escorted back to hogwarts. As he entered through the main doors, he noticed that the place was empty. The evening feast was well underway, and he was most likely expected to join his classmates in the main hall. Draco did not feel like eating, and he used his newfound freedom to wander around the castle. Slytherin's preferred to stick with their own, and wouldn't travel far from their dungeons, yet with the lack of students and teachers to witness this strange act, Draco thought he would explore the higher levels.

As he reached the second floor, his cloak caught on a suit of armour, and sent it crashing to the ground.

"Damn!" he grunted, and inspected the tear on his robe. Bending low he made to lift the knight back up into a standing position when a voice behind him made him freeze.

"Good Evening Draco." The low, soothing voice of Albus Dumbledore echoed in the hallway.

Draco's heart stopped, he dropped the knight and created a second loud crash onto the floor. He struggled to say something and then smiled uneasily.

"I…I…'m sorry professor! My cloak…" Draco stuttered.

"Draco it's alright. Though I must admit I am wondering what you are doing here alone, when your friends are dining in the main hall." He raised an eyebrow inquisitively, he suspected Draco was up to something.

"I wasn't hungry." Draco lifted the knight upright and steadied it. "I didn't feel like talking to anyone right now." He shoved his hands in his pockets, hoping that Dumbledore wouldn't see how much he was shaking.

"I understand Draco." He placed an arm on his shoulder. "Professor Snape told me about the incident. I know it must have been very hard for you." He squeezed his shoulder encouragingly and gave a slight nod. "If it's space you need for thinking, then I shall give it, the fourth floor has some exceptionally nice hallways. I often go there to ponder." Dumbledore chuckled to himself, then headed for the stairs.

Draco watched as Dumbledore turned his back to him, and seemed to head for the stairs in slow motion. Now you idiot! Now! His back is turned, you are all alone, do it! DO IT! Draco removed his wand from his trousers and aimed it at Dumbledore's back. The old man had not noticed. Draco was sweating from the effort of keeping his hand steady, he was shaking with fear, and a sickly feeling engulfed him.

"Say it! You fool! Avada Kedavra! You've done it before! It was easy, before it was a snake, now Dumbledore is the snake!" a voice echoed in his head.

He shivered as he exhaled, then the sickness came. It rose from his stomach to his lungs, he couldn't breath, Dumbledore was moving further and further away, Draco's wand arm began to shake, and then collapsed.

He forced his way through a door next to him, rushing over to the nearest sink he clutched it's sides and vomited. Again and again. He was crying uncontrollably, and gasping for breath. "You could have done it! You would have been FREE! They would have been safe!" He looked at himself in the mirror. His long hair hadn't been washed in a while, and was sticking together in greasy strips. It hung over his eyes and stuck to his damp cheeks. Sniffing, he attempted to make himself look presentable. Combing his hair back with his fingers and wiping his eyes with his sleeve. "Malfoy's don't cry!" he looked pathetic, a quivering pale, sickly wreck…and he hated it. He hated himself.

In a rage he head butted the mirror, smashing it. The pain was intense, but he felt he deserved it, for failing, yet again, in his mission. The glass cut his forehead and a trickle of warm blood dribbled down his nose. "You are such a loser!" he thought as he stared at his broken and bloodied reflection. Then he realised he was being watched.

He span around and saw the bespectacled ghost of Moaning Myrtle. She wore a face of deep sympathy. "Why have you done this to yourself?" she pointed to the cut on his head.

Draco realised he had entered non other than the girls bathroom, where the entrance to the chamber of secrets was believed to be. He tenderly touched the wound on his head, and inspected it in the mirror. Wiping the blood off with his sleeve he hissed at her. "Don't tell anyone about this!" he sneered, scrubbing his face with a handful of water.

She started to giggle and sneer back. "Ha ha. What are you going to do about it? Kill me again?" she sniggered and floated around him, taunting him.

Draco sank to his knees. "Just don't" he was holding back tears again. "Please." He wiped his eyes, which had started to go red from all the rubbing.

Moaning Myrtle saw his face turn from anger to sorrow and knelt down next to him. "I promise." She smiled. "Nobody ever comes in here to visit me, if you promise to come back and talk, I promise never to tell anyone you were here."

Draco glared at her uncomfortably. He couldn't risk letting anyone know what he was feeling. Especially Dumbledore or Potter!

She smiled innocently, pleading with her eyes. "Oh…FINE!" he groaned.

She laughed cheekily and clapped her hands. He continued to wipe his eyes, until his face began to feel sore and dry.

"So why are you hiding in here?" She asked. "What's wrong?" She crossed her legs and prepared herself to listen.

Draco wanted desperately to tell someone, tell them what was on his mind, have a shoulder to cry on, but he couldn't. He was a Malfoy, and they dealt with their own problems.

"I…I have to do something…and I'm worried that, if I don't do it, I'll be in big trouble." He wasn't going to give anything away. But it felt so good to get it off his chest.

Myrtle nodded as if to say Go-on?

"My father is in prison…my mother is ill, and I'm worried that someone is going to take them away from me." He sniffed and gulped. "Im afraid of losing them." He looked away from her and a tear rolled down his cheek.

"There there!" Myrtle put a ghostly hand on top of his. It felt cold, and tickled a little, making him smile weakly. "I'm sure whatever it is, It'll be fine!" She looked into the boy's face. This one was not like Harry Potter. This one needed her company.