Top???
Bottom???Author: Ladderofyears ( on ao3 )
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Draco cast his eyes around the empty corridor cautiously. He seemed to be alone but one could never tell at Hogwarts. Draco rubbed his dry, itchy eyes. He could feel that familiar prickle at the nape of his neck.
Those eyes were watching him again.
He'd even imagined that he'd seen something only the day before, some flicker at the very corner of his vision. Draco had put it down to exhaustion and the misused Dreamless Sleep he'd pinched from the Hospital Wing. There'd been more than one occasion in recent weeks where he'd felt concealed eyes watching his every move.
Draco had spun around, as fast as a hex but there hadn't been anyone there.
Part of Draco put it down to paranoia – he hardly slept or ate any more – but he doubted he was that lucky. It was likely some sycophant of the Dark Lord, reporting back on his lack of success. Draco swallowed, panicky fear blooming inside his heart. It didn't matter which spell, enchantment or piece of rarefied magic Draco tried. His attempts at fixing the Vanishing Cabinet were piteous and futile.
With a shake of his head, Draco pushed away the fanciful thoughts racing through his brain. He had to press on with his mission, for the consequences where he were to fail were dire.
With a hard shove to the ancient damp-swollen wood, Draco pushed open the door of the abandoned sixth floor boy's bathroom.
Merlin, but Draco hoped Myrtle would be waiting for him.
He was farcical, really. Pathetic. He was the scion of a pure-blood family. He was a special mission, set for him alone by the Dark Lord, yet he'd taken to making these ridiculous little pilgrimages. Myrtle was the only sympathetic ear in the entirety of this damnably miserable school.
Draco liked to close his eyes and pretend he was talking to Pansy.
Draco liked to pretend that everything was as it once was, where all he'd cared about was broomsticks, grades and ragging precious Potter. Draco liked to pretend that the family he loved wasn't ash, wasn't a burnt offering sacrificed on the altar of Voldemort.
Draco flinched. Flinched at his idiocy. He'd been foolish. He wasn't even supposed to think the Dark Lord's name. Draco remembered his Mother's ring digging into his arm as she'd clasped it hard, her grey eyes full of terror. "He can hear your thoughts," she'd whispered. "He can feel your disloyalty. You mustn't, mustn't let him inside of you."
The floor of the bathroom was sopping and grimy. Draco stepped forward, letting the door close behind him.
"Myrtle?" Draco called out quietly into the silence. He'd die of shame if anyone heard him. "Are you here? Don't hide!"
The final word had barely left Draco's lips when there was a splash in the end cubicle. Myrtle floated out though the door. Water puddled at her feet as she hovered only feet from where Draco stood. The stench of decay and wretchedness that surrounded Myrtle filled his nostrils. Draco didn't fear ghosts – long dead Malfoy ancestors stalked his Manor bedroom each night – but something about Myrtle's youth and naked desperation repulsed him.
Myrtle's eyes flicked over him. Her lips pouted.
"You've come to see me," Myrtle murmured in a sing-song voice. "All these days and you don't come, and I've been waiting. Waiting and crying and waiting." A smile danced around the edge of her mouth. "I've been thinking about you. Thinking about you. I can help you, Draco."
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Drarry Oneshots (𝑪𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒍𝒆𝒕𝒆)
Lãng mạn! Most of these stories aren't mine BUT I do give credit to the authors! ♪Enjoy♪ (tbh most of this is top harry)