Summary: Draco is taking a midnight stroll, but then he enters Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. When he descends the Chamber of Secrets, with Golden Boy Potter revealing some interesting facts about himself, he might just learn to respect The Boy Who Lived.
Author's Note: For the Chamber of Secrets, I just made up the description.
Disclaimer: I own nothing. That's it, I said it! Sob.
It was a quiet night; no students lurking about the halls; teachers were off sleeping, and the animals were all quiet. The moon shone luminously, shadowing on the lake. All of the birds would be sleeping in their nests, students in their beds.
It was nice, but for Draco it was a typical night.
He walked aimlessly through out the halls, and stopped in front of Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. He wasn't sure why he was there, but his feet had led him there. Deciding that it wasn't going to do any harm, he walked inside.
Moaning Myrtle was inside, her transparent face full of freight. She was whimpering, and when she saw Draco, she went up to him.
"Draco… Draco Malfoy?" she asked. Without waiting for a reply, she kept on talking. "Harry Potter… down in the Chamber of Secrets… Oh, Merlin… So horrible…" She sobbed, but kept on talking. "He's… hurt, everything…"
Draco looked at the ghost, confused. "What are you talking about? And why should I care about The Chosen One?" He turned to leave, but Myrtle went in front of him again, and stopped him.
"No!" she said desperately. "Please, no. Go… go help him… he's… Oh, Merlin," she sobbed. She couldn't continue, so she went to her toilet to weep, muttering, "Poor boy. Doesn't deserve this; really, he doesn't. I didn't… same fate…"
Draco looked at her oddly as she left. He'd heard her mutterings, but he hadn't the slightest idea in what she meant. What does she mean, 'same fate'? wondered Draco. He shrugged again and decided to go inside the Chamber of Secrets. If he wasn't going to sleep, he might as well torment Potter.
He looked around the bathroom for a moment, and then saw the opened sink. He'd never seen it before, and the sight held before him, was nothing short of amazing. He was quiet fond of snakes, and when he saw that the opening had a beautiful engraving of a python, he nearly—very nearly—smiled.
Noticing that there were stairs there, he took the first step. After making sure that it wasn't going to disappear on him, he descended the rest of the stairs. As he went down, he—or rather, his nose—observed that the stench was becoming stronger as he went further down. Finally, after a few dozen steps, he made it to the end.
He heard distant whimpers, and decided that Mission Torment Potter was about to begin. He walked toward the whimpers, and they became louder.
When he saw Potter, he didn't expect to see a dead, filthy, basilisk next to him. Its eyes were clawed, and he wondered if it was the reason for the unbelievable stench. Though, it seemed that Potter didn't smell it, or he chose to ignore it.
"Potter, Potter, Potter," Draco drawled, walking towards him, "what have we here?"
Startled, Potter jumped. His eyes were red-rimmed, and his cheeks were stained with tears, but it seemed as though he paid no attention to them, because he did not wipe them off. "What do you want, Malfoy? And how did you find me?" he asked, tears still falling.
Draco simply shrugged. "I have my ways," he lied. "So, why is our world's best cry baby here?" he asked sarcastically.
"Shut up, Malfoy," Potter said, but with no meaning what-so-ever. "Just let me mourn my upcoming death." His voice was so quiet that Draco had to strain his ears to catch it.
Draco's reply took a moment of hesitation: "So you've finally accepted your fate?"
His head snapped up, and he stood up, glaring. "What do you care? Why do you care that I'm going to die? Why the fuck would you care?"
"I don't, Potter. I simply like tormenting you," he smirked.
"Of course you do." His voice was serious. "You wouldn't understand the pain I would go through, would you, Malfoy? You wouldn't understand what it'd be like, to sacrifice yourself for the rest of the fucking world, now would you?" He shook his head. "No, I didn't think so."
"Ladies and Gentlemen, here we have our own personal martyr," Draco said, walking up to Potter. "Willing to sacrifice himself, when he perfectly knows that he doesn't have to die."
"And just how would you know that?" he retorted? "How do you know that I don't have to sacrifice myself? Just how do you know, Malfoy?"
"Because you're Golden Boy Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived," Draco answered. "You don't die."
"Well, that's going to change soon." Potter's eyes lowered, and they were still red-rimmed. "I have to die this time. If I don't, Voldemort will come back."
"What do you mean, Potter? The Dark Lord will never die," he said before he could stop himself.
"The only reason that he hasn't died yet, is because of me." He turned around. "I'm a fucking horcrux," he whispered almost inaudibly. "He marked me, put a bit of his soul into me. My fate was sealed before I even had a chance to live.
"I never wanted to be one. I didn't. I didn't want to be the Boy-Who-Lived, Chosen One, or all of that bullshit. I just wanted to be Harry, just Harry. But, no, I never got that. Never."
He was now shouting: "I DON'T WANT TO DIE AT THIS AGE!" He sat on the floor, and Draco just stood there, shocked at what Potter was saying.
He'd heard about horcruxes, and knew what they were, but he never knew that Potter—of all people—was one.
"I just… don't," he whispered. "I need to live a life… one where I live with my wife and three children. One where I grow old, and don't have to worry about Dark Lords killing me. I… I just want a normal life."
He turned to Draco. "I have a girlfriend, you know. (Draco never knew that.) I wanted to marry her, have children, and grow old with her. But, Voldemort wouldn't let me have that, would he? A simple request: let Harry Potter live a normal life. But I never was normal, was I?"
Draco wasn't sure if Potter was talking to him, or himself. But Potter continued.
"But she was the one who said I was… she knew… It took her a while, but she eventually figured it out." He let out a quiet sob. "I'll just end my life earlier." He shook his head. "I got her pregnant… I fucking, purposely, got her pregnant. She's having my child."
"Thanks for letting me know, Potter," was Draco's sarcastic reply. But, now it seemed that it didn't suite. That Draco needed to be serious.
He sniffed. "No problem."
"Now, what is this I hear about horcruxes?" he asked, walking towards Potter and sitting in front of him. He didn't know when Mission Torment Potter became Mission Sympathize Potter, but it had.
"I'm one." It was simple and to the point. "He has six, seven including himself. We know where the rest are, but I'm one… And that means I'm going to die…" he trailed off, a distant look in his eyes.
After a few minutes of silence, Harry checked his watch. "Malfoy, the sun is up in a few hours. You better get back to your dorm."
Draco jumped a little, and gave a jerk of a nod. "What about you?" he questioned after standing up.
"No one is going to wake up until nine, at the very least. Hermione will be up, but she usually goes straight to the study." He gave a flicker of a smile—the first one Draco saw that night.
Right before Draco turned to leave, Harry spoke. "You know, Malfoy, if I hadn't gotten my girlfriend pregnant, you would have my last name. You're my closest family member, and that being very distant." He shook his head slightly. "Imagine that: Draco Potter-Malfoy. Perhaps Black, too. You'd be the richest teen in Britain.
"Well, goodbye, Malfoy." Their eyes met briefly, and he gave another flicker of a smile. "It was nice talking to you, even though you were here to torment me."
"That was my initial plan, yes. But, unexpected occurrences have come up. I don't think you'll be receiving anymore torment from me, this year." He gave his trademark smirk.
After a few more seconds, Draco left.
The very next week, Draco saw Potter talk with his friends. He didn't miss the drawn out look in his eyes. He didn't miss anything about Potter these days. He would notice nearly everything.
He saw Potter's hand wander down to his girlfriend's stomach—I never realized she, of all people, was his girlfriend—and caressed it for a moment before coming back to the small of her back.
His mind wandered back to the horcruxes, and how Potter was one.
Harry Potter was going to die, all because of the Dark Lord. A boy, seventeen, the same as Draco, and was going to die. He wasn't going to be able to experience the finer things in life (such as expensive brooms and rich homes), or anything, for that matter.
And now, Draco had just gained a bit more respect for Golden Boy Potter, the living horcrux.
Author's Note: I was bored, and I had nothing to do. So... guess what came up!! This!! Grin. I don't think it's much, mainly because it's not my forte, but I didn't think it was horrible... Eh...
I, personally, am not too fond of this. But, whatever, I guess. Again, I was bored.