𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐆𝐨

𝐗𝐋

It was a long time of Draco and I, lips locked and hands roaming, and Goyle standing off to the side, frozen and gawking.

He took a moment to try and make an escape, but as he stepped on a particular floorboard, it creaked and Draco whipped his head around to inspect.

He too, froze once he saw his old friend.

"What... What the... How are you... two...Potter?" Goyle stuttered, pointing back and forth frantically between the two of us. "How. The fuck. Did this happen?" he finally mustered.

"Goyle..." Draco began hatefully.

"No," he cut him off, "No. This? This is wrong," he said, still pointing accusingly. "What the fuck is this?"

"Goyle. You don't know what you're talking about."

"You! You don't know what you're talking about! You're mad, man. Mad!" Goyle's finger was pointed solely at Draco now, twitching and wavering with every word he spoke. "I'm gonna tell Mcgonagall, I'm gonna tell the professors, I'm gonna tell everyone! And then everyone can see what freaks you are!"

Draco merely rolled his eyes at Goyle, clearly familiar with his antics. Though, on the inside, I wasn't sure if Draco was only rolling his eyes.

"You're not going to tell anyone," he said with amazing calmness. "You're going to turn around, walk back to wherever you came from, and forget you saw a thing."

Goyle put his hand by his side, eyebrows crossed and a craziness set firmly in his glare. "You can't tell me what to do, Malfoy. I don't take orders from you anymore!"

Draco sighed exasperatly, but kept his cool stance. I, on the other hand, stayed quiet, not knowing how to go about handling Greggory Goyle.

"And what exactly would you gain from telling people what you saw just now?" asked Draco.

"Easy! I get to watch your precious reputations crash and burn before your eyes. Maybe your sick urges will burn along with them!" he shouted.

I was thankful that no one else had come through the hallway yet, surely Goyle's echoing shouts of mania and Draco's harsh counters would not go unheard.

"I'll tell you what," Draco said after a moment of thought, "You keep your ghastly mouth zipped. You tell no one what you saw here today... And I'll continue to keep under wraps what you did with Crabbe in fourth year."

I watched as all the colour swiftly drained from Goyle's face and neck, leaving a pale, pasty ghost of the soul that once embodied his hollow shell.

"You wouldn't..."

"You know I would."

"But–"

"You know I would."

As soon as it was made clear to Goyle that Draco was finished talking, he turned around on his heels and stalked stiffly back down the corridor.

I turned to Draco, a little shaken still at the scare of being found out. He looked slightly more panicked than when he was in front of Goyle, but calmer than I was.

"What did he and Crabbe do?" I asked out of curiosity, hoping for a distraction at the same time.

He chuckled and turned to me, "I'll only tell if he does."

I breathed out a long breath. I leaned my body against Draco, feeling the extra weight of memories and Goyle piling up on my shoulders.

Of course, I had wanted to tell someone about Draco and I, preferably Ron or Hermione, even Neville. But Goyle? Goyle was the last person I had wanted to encounter us in a moment of affection.