Sunrise Goodbye

This was a pretty spot to be stuck in. Middle of the night, seeking refuge in a bathroom stall, the cold nipping every inch of Draco's body... And Filch could very well find Draco in the next five seconds, which would mean bidding farewell to the world Draco may never see again because Filch, in the wonderfully ominous darkness of the night where the possibilities were endless and the screams of a tormented Sixth Year boy could never be loud enough to reach someone, was sure to be in his element. How Filch would be cracking that yellow, gapping teeth smile of his as he subjected Draco to all sorts of punishment that would maim him in probably six different ways.

The scowl on Draco's face was so deeply etched it might as well be permanent.

One footstep heard clapping dully on the bathroom floor, then two steps, and three. "I know you're in here," Filch growled, "So make my job easier and just come out."

Draco's scowl grew further. As if. I don't think so, no. I'm pretty comfortable here in my dank little stall.

"You just missed him." That gloomy, thin voice... Ah! It was ghostie girl to the rescue. "The horrid boy entered, never even acknowledging my presence and he wanted to use my bathroom to hide in – so naturally I drove him away. I know I have nothing and I am nothing, but he could've been a tiny bit more courteous instead of being so insensitive and rude.." A string of highly agonized sobs ensued.

"Right, right. Well then just tell me which way he went, Myrtle, and I'll let you get back to your wallowing after."

Moans and sniffles.

"Err, Myrtle."

A pause, apparently for a quick intake of breath, before the various noises resumed.

Filch made a noise of his own, an impatient one. "See here, I don't have all night. I'll be glad to leave you in peace if you could just say –"

"There, that way," was finally choked out.

Draco could hear the hurried manner in which Filch exited the bathroom, partly to get away as quick as possible from the ghost as well, he could guess. Well, now it was Draco's turn to make a departure.

He stepped out from the confines of the stall, his swagger appropriately back in place. He was almost at the door when the ghost appeared before him. She was hovering a few feet above the ground, staring down at him, arms crossed. Draco gave her a blank look, not comprehending why she was blocking his way.

"Well, how was that?" she prompted expectantly.

"Oh. You did.. a spiffing job," Draco replied without much care. He only wanted her to let him through.

"Fine, if you're going to be so appreciative. I could go chase Filch and tell him your whereabouts, you know." She didn't sound as if she really intended to, but still there was nothing to stop her from doing so if she wanted to.

"No, no, you wouldn't dream of doing that, I can tell you're a really nice.. toilet ghost," Draco stumbled to finish his sentence, for lack of a better praise. It was unfamiliar territory – compliments were showered to the Malfoys, not the other way around, after all.

And it seemed that it should remain like that.

"Toilet ghost? Toilet ghost?" Suddenly she appeared to be much bigger than him, able to swallow him whole at one go.

Draco instinctively took a few steps backwards. "Don't take it like it's an insult."

"You have no idea who I am, do you? Do you?" The flash in her eyes was unmistakable even through her thick glasses. "Of course, why would Moaning Myrtle be worth mentioning at all.. I'm only a mini legend here in Hogwarts. I only died a tragic young death, left here for hours before I was even found! Can you imagine the further embarrassment I had to endure when they told my mother and she actually said "Myrtle who?". I have always felt invisible when I was alive, and since my death I practically am invisible in every sense."

"Moaning Myrtle? It's fitting, at the very least. But the fact that you're pathetic doesn't excuse you for not knowing my name." Draco's haughty tone rivaled Myrtle's. "You call yourself a part of Hogwarts and yet 'Draco Malfoy' doesn't ring a bell to you? God, an absurdity that's bigger than the entire existence of Longbottom."

"Draco.. Malfoy. Is that your actual name? Oh, of course it is, who would want to have a name like that if they could choose not to." Moaning Myrtle was still gazing at him sternly, but an annoying hint of amusement was tugging at the corners of her mouth too.

"Right, and I place great value in your opinion. That's it. I'm going," Draco snarled. He had had enough, and this Moaning Whining And Completely Ignorant Whatshername still refused to budge. Well he wasn't going to let a thing like a ghost – not even a physical barrier, really – come between him and the way out of here. Never was it his idea of fun to be spending time lounging in a lavatory and interacting with whatever residents it might hold within.

"What, you're not even going to thank me? You have such nerve." She sniffed.

"Thank? You? For what? Oh, I suppose for your gracious behaviour while I took temporary lodging at your bathroom. It's one of the finest I've ever had the opportunity of visiting, I must say."

"It's not much, but it is a place of my own." Myrtle's voice rang especially high-pitched as she declared this. "Clearly not everyone can appreciate a sense of belonging."

"Clearly you have no qualms to claim toilets as your home since your expectations run absolutely sky-high." Draco tried to see past Myrtle's hazy figure, wondering what would happen if he walked right through her. Would he make it to the other side with everything still intact? Would he merely bounce back? Would he –

Myrtle made a strangled sound, then without prior warning she advanced, crashing right into him. Draco instantly had the sensation that his blood had turned to ice, the chill attacked him to the very core, and he stumbled, nearly falling but he caught himself just in time.

He looked over his shoulder, saw Myrtle floating away to a dark corner of the bathroom, and didn't think twice. The next second, he was already out of the bathroom and he didn't look back as he ran to return to Slytherin Tower.

- - - - -

Draco had fallen asleep for perhaps all of two seconds before Crabbe and Goyle shook him awake. Peeking through one weary eye opened, Draco saw the outlines of their gigantic figures standing on either side of his bed.

"Bug off," Draco muttered, burying further in his blankets. "I've just had the worst night, and I intend to dream it all away with some shuteye so whatever it is you two idiots want, it can wait till morning."

"But.. it's morning already," Crabbe ventured with care, knowing quite well how efficient a Malfoy temper can fly, especially when aided by sleep withdrawal.

"Uhh, unless he meant tomorrow morning? Maybe Malfoy wants to sleep the whole of today, and we should only bother him the next morning..?" Poor Goyle really strained his brains on this one.

Draco's dazed face appeared as he propped himself to sit upright. "What, the sun can't possibly be up already." His head felt too heavy with fatigue still. "What time is it?"

"Time to get to Transfiguration before McGonagall makes you lot the objects of today's lesson. Not that it doesn't sound like a delicious prospect, mind you. Malfoy, can you imagine how many girls would just die to turn you into a piece of chocolate cake and lick you off, slowly."

"Parkinson." Draco didn't even need to turn to face her. That throaty, scathing female voice floating from the doorway was unmistakable. "Come to escort us down? Such a good Prefect you're being. Slytherin House cries tears of pride over you."

Pansy walked over to Draco's bed. "I'm touched to the very core," Pansy replied, then rolled her eyes. "Don't mock my being a Prefect, Malfoy, you know I only did it so I could have freedom to walk two steps without being pounced on by a teacher demanding on where I was going and then before you know it, a round of 20 Questions would ensue and then I'd miss my.. study group appointments."

Crabbe let out a snort. "I've never seen you pick up a book before."

Draco smiled lazily at Pansy. "See, you can't even fool Crabbe. But I suppose Hogwarts teachers are a particularly clueless bunch. But not one of them are here right now, so no need for the pretense. If you are going to meet up with a boy or five for some good old shagging, just say so. It's not the first day we've known you, Parkinson."

"It hurts how you seem to have the wrong idea about me." Pansy pursed her lips to a pout. Then a smirk crept in. "But be a dear and don't blow my cover?"

"As you wish." Draco reluctantly got himself up and started to get ready for class. "Although I still don't understand why you're putting on this act of being sweet and proper and responsible and, ugh, being nice to the other Houses. That Prefect badge on you is the perfect shiny thing to top all the ridiculousness. What's gotten into you?"

"Something's brewing. You know that, don't you?" Pansy leaned in so close that Draco was forced to look her right in the eye. She continued, "Something big and wondrously vile is going to take place soon, can't you just feel the energy, taste the bitter poison in the air? That's why Dumbledore is tightening the security and restricting students' movement more than ever. Everyone is nervous and cautious, and not surprisingly us Slytherins are being eyed as if we'd already given our service to the Dark Lord. Well, I intend to at least try to shake off that prejudice.."

"Because it isn't true in your case?" Draco was amused.

"Because it's not fun at all to be evil when it's pre-expected of you." Pansy's gaze grew hard and determined. "Also, I want to make sure I'm not among the first to be hauled off as prime suspects when things finally happen. I avoid the radar, and I won't have to miss any of the excitement. In fact, I hope I would be a big part of it all. I'm just as ambitious as you are, Malfoy. I just don't flaunt it in everyone's face, it might end up backfiring on you."

Draco retreated a step back, so that he was able to look down on her considerably shorter body frame. "I appreciate the concern. Now out of my way before I personally remove you from your obtrusive position." Pansy Parkinson had green fire in her eyes that was impressive to witness, but she was still putting a damper on his day with her loaded words, as if it hadn't started out rotten enough as it was. He fished for his wand, tried one pocket and then another – but he only grasped air.

"Is everything going to go brilliantly wrong for me today, where's my blasted wand?" he hissed, searching. Did he lose it somewhere? If he did, then when? His mind ran through the places he'd been the day before..

Draco swore a streak of choice expletives, ignoring the curious expression that was worn by Crabbe, Goyle, and Pansy. I have to go back to that bathroom.. to that awful oddity of a ghost. And as soon as possible..

It was shaping up to be one of the absolute worst days of Draco's life.