Scared Potter? (Drarry fanfiction)

Chapter 21 - Bunny in the Dungeons

I'm so sorry for this shitty chapter. It's been really hot in here, and my two weeks off are made to an end. I just couldn't keep you guys waiting any longer... I hope it isn't too bad xD

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Harry took a deep breath as he wandered through the halls. He managed to find some ease on his own, yet his mind wasn't put to rest just yet. He had to find Draco. He had to know whether he was still around. Unfortunately entering the Slytherin dorms wasn't an option, and so he paced through the dungeons – hoping to find him there. Holding his advanced potion making book, he decided to read a little – hoping not to took too suspicious as he wandered around.

"Potter!"

A harsh and low voice made him startle – causing him almost to topple over as he dropped his book. It was Goyle, pointing his wand at him by anger.

"Goyle." Harry crouched to grab his book, but Goyle snorted – hissing for him to back off. "Calm down you chicken," Harry hissed. "I'm sure you barely know how to use that thing." He was referring to Goyle his wand.

"You have no business here," Goyle replied – his ugly eyes narrowed even more than usual, trying to look sturdy even though Harry could smell the cold sweat running down his shivering spine. "This is Slytherin's property. Besides, do you feel any better?"

Harry raised his brows. "About what?"

"Now you've caused Malfoy's leaving."

Harry's heart skipped a beat, and he swallowed away his uncomfortable business. His wand burned in his pocket – having the strange urge to paralyze the bastard and get the fuck out of there. "Did he leave?"

Goyle wrinkled his nose, his wand nearly touching Harry's throat now. "You'd wish."

Harry tried his best to shrug, and made his turn.

Goyle gasped for breath, probably trying to gather as much as audacity as he could. "Locomotor Mortis!"

Harry respond swiftly, having his wand drawn before Goyle could finish his spell, and cast it backwards by chance. It wasn't occasional to rebound a spell, but to Harry's surprise it did.

"Protego!"

Goyle toppled over, his face white but his cheeks fluttered by shame and anger. His blood was boiling up to his long-boiled face, ashamed by his missing. Ashamed by his own weak attempt.

"Come on, you weak bastard. You're making a fool of yourself." Harry still pointed his wand at him, knowing they were alone for now. Harry rarely felt the urge to punish someone, or even take a mock. But now, seeing Goyle wobbling against the pavers, it brought him great pleasure. A weird kind of satisfaction that made him feel evil in the most pleasurable way. He'd always hated him. If just by his stupid manners and weak attitude.

"Please, do some homework. Go to class. Borrow a library book. Your attempt was most disappointing."

"Fuck you," Goyle spit as he tried his best to get up on his feet again. "One day I'll dance on your grave."