Summary: Myrtle finds Draco in her bathroom and offers comfort.

Rated: T

Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort

Warning Tag: References Panic Attack; Referenced Canon Meditated Murder; References Canon Major Character Injury

Mirror

October 31st, 1996

Stalking the halls of the first floor, Draco Malfoy sought for a place that offered some sort of solitude. Being excused from Defence Against The Dark Arts class to go to the Hospital Wing on Professor Severus Snape's request because, apparently, he looked like he was going to be sick. The blond took it to just get away from everyone.

The halls were vacant aside from some ghosts floating about, slipping through the walls as if they didn't exist. Pausing by a lavatory with an 'Out of Order' sign hung haphazardly on the handles, Draco glanced around before slipping through the door.

Several girls in his year had mentioned that the bathroom was haunted by an insufferable, whiny ghost, but the young wizard had yet to encounter her, and he didn't really care to. What mattered was no one would find him in there, and that's what he wanted. Seclusion.

Removing his cloak and tie, he hung them on a hook that was placed on the wall near the bathroom stalls before approaching a sink. Using the cool water that sputtered from the abandoned tap, Draco cleansed his face from the cold sweat that never seemed to go away. The tightness in his chest strained his breathing; blotchy vision clouded his mind. It felt like he was losing his grip with reality.

'I fear of what is forming inside me.'

Hands shook while they were cupped together to capture more water. The utter horror of knowing that necklace's curse could have killed that girl still haunted his conscience. He looked in the mirror, droplets pooled to his pointed chin where they dripped back into the sink. Grey eyes glistened with fresh, warm tears that somehow escaped and mixed with the cold liquid on a white fear-stricken face. A hint of dark, sleep-deprived rings started to circle underneath them. This person in the looking glass was not him.

"I almost murdered someone…" Draco's voice was no more than a raspy whisper.

This couldn't overwhelm him, there was no room for failure. Needing to push this feeling of remorse completely out of his head for the sake of his family, for the sake of him succeeding. Was a little collateral damage so bad? Gripping the porcelain sink when a small bout of dizziness had him feel unstable, he rested his forehead against the cool mirror. Draco wished he could fall right through it, allowing him to hide this almost unbearable task placed upon him.

'Can my heart be turned to stone?'

After dousing the burn from his eyes again, Draco looked back at his reflection. What now peered back over his shoulder startled him. Turning around quickly, he took in a curious bespectacled female ghost hovering a meter away.

"Who are you?" he demanded.

Ignoring his question, a slow smile formed on the entity's lips as she floated closer to him. "It's been awhile since I had a visitor."

Watching her carefully, Draco assumed this was the ghost that lived here. Trying to remember the name the others used when they talked about the haunted loo. The silver wispy girl billowed about, blatantly ogling him.

"Oh, another handsome boy found me. You're so pale." She giggled, fiddling with her glasses to get a closer look. "And so distraught. I like you already."

Brushing off the unsettling compliments, Draco regained his composure. "You're… Moaning Myrtle, right?"

Myrtle's eyes glinted, quickly becoming defensive. "I am just Myrtle! I do not moan!"

Trying to not roll his eyes as she was in fact moaning over her own name, Draco quickly added, "Just like the flower used in healing potions and salves."

She tilted her head slightly, intrigued at his random analogy. "I'm a flower?" Myrtle clearly took it as a compliment, acting girlish and giggly as she hovered closer. "You're so kind. What's your name?"

"Malfoy. Draco Malfoy."

"Draco. That's fancy." She all but gushed, moving to float just beside the blond now.

"I hope I am not interrupting your moping. I heard something and thought it might have been Harry. Do you know him? If you do, tell him I am very upset at his lack of visits."

Her voice held a hint of anger in the last sentence. Draco scoffed at the remark, but got hung up on the mention of Potter. "He and I are not friends," he spat bitterly.

"Oh, I've got competition." Myrtle chortled, clapping her hands together with a gleeful squeal.

Finding the comment a bit off-putting, he contemplated leaving to hide somewhere else. Instead, he decided to address her previous remark. "I was hardly moping. I needed a place to clear my head, so I came here."

"Are you being treated badly, too?" she asked.

Draco was unsure on how to respond to the question, but wondered if it was possible for somebody to understand a fraction of what he was going through, even if their situations weren't the same.

Originally Written For:

The Houses Competition

Word Count: 825

Originally Written: October 2017