The only thing Draco could do was to avoid Hermione. He pretended not to see her and made sure they never got the chance to be alone. He could feel her silently imploring him to say something because whenever he glanced at her, he would see her watching him discreetly. It was unnerving, and he was unravelling.
Deprived from his one true escape from his bleak prospects, he fell into a bit of a despair. Muggles called it depression, but in his spoilt mind, he was simply biding his time. He refused to admit, even to himself, that he had a problem.
He could throw himself back into the good graces of his house-mates but it did not enthrall him one bit. Knowing that it was all fake and that his father's downfall has made him feel a bit like a fraud. The Malfoys were supposed to be above it all, but now his father was suffering alongside the dregs. It was also too humiliating to bear, and knowing that his friends knew how far the Slytherin Price had fallen made it even worse.
He wasn't about to turn to Voldemort's circle, especially since nobody knew of the path that lies before him. They were malicious without reason or logic. Once, Draco may have been just like them. But his eyes were open now and he knew that there was only one place to go.
Bidding his fellow Slytherins to go ahead while feigning aloofness regarding the great task the Dark Lord had appointed him to do, he rushed into the abandoned toilet above the Great Hall. No other students would deign enter here, not while Moaning Myrtle continued to haunt its cubicles.
"My, my. We have a naughty one." The expectedly shrill voice made its appearance and Draco turned to look at the ghost.
"Hello, Myrtle." He said, waiting to see how she would respond.
Myrtle floated down and rested on a sink, sitting on its edge.
"Have you come to see little ole me? Draco?" She gave a squeak of giggle.
Draco forced himself to give a little smile, "I suppose so."
"Oh, how charming," she said, touching her hair and adjusting her spectacles, "You know, Harry used to come in here all the time to see me."
"Harry? Harry Potter?"
"Yes, Harry Potter." Myrtle said crossly, offended that the new visitor would dare accuse her of telling untruths.
"What was he doing in here?"
"Doing things he wasn't supposed to be doing." The ghost shrieked gleefully. "Yes, he used to come in here all the time, with his nasty friends. That bushy haired creature and rude, rude boy with the red hair."
"Granger and Weasley." Draco said almost wistfully. Good friends, who never let Harry face anything alone. What he wouldn't give to have friends like that. Friends he could talk to, who he would allow help from. But alas, not everyone was born lucky.
At that thought he hung his head and sat down, uncaring if the floor was wet although he was sure he would regret it later when his damp robes bothered him.
Oblivious to the boy's sensitivities, Myrtle swooped down beside him and said, "Yes, nasty Granger and rude Weasley. Never got a moment alone with Harry because of those two..." she trailed off into her story of how they crept in here during their second year, and it was only last year during the Triwizard Tournament did she see Harry alone...
Draco tolerated her because he didn't have anywhere to go and it was better to have companionship than none at all.
When he finally got up to leave, Myrtle was almost begging him to come back tomorrow to which he said, "I don't make promises."
YOU ARE READING
The Lost Timeline | Dramione | ✔
Fanfiction"Do not make the mistake of thinking I care what you think of me." She looked down and saw her book in his other hand. The unexpected kindness in the midst of poison was more than she could bear and she took it from him quickly before breaking into...
