harry.exe has stopped working ━ hp x tmr | lv

8.

Chapter Eight: 

Well, Harry had said consequences be damned. 

He just didn’t think it would apply so soon. 

Platform nine and three quarters is as full as ever. Students are running around. Family’s are saying their last, teary goodbyes for the semester. Familiars are noisily hooting in their cages, meowing as they easily run between people's legs and croak as they jump around with their human counterparts running after them. There's a black raven perched on someone's shoulder, a large spider is locked in a small cage and even graceful like rats with high intelligence in their eyes are held in hands like prized possessions. Harry even spots a white and purple scaled lizard wrapped around a Ravenclaw's neck from the corner of his eye. 

Unfortunately, his main attention is held on Ron Weasley and Draco Malfoy — who are both stood in front of him, arguing. Ron had spotted Harry from afar and came tumbling forward, blushing as he asked how Harry had gotten his hair black. At the same time, Draco had showed up out of nowhere, sticking out his hand and introducing himself with an air of superiority. Sighing, Harry tries to analyse the situation.

The Malfoys are stood somewhere further to Harry’s right. He can just about see them if he turns his head. Lucius’s gaze is narrowed and his grip is tight on his cane. Narcissa is stood beside him, hand on his shoulder in some silent show of support. Harry doesn’t buy it for one second. The Weasley’s on the other hand are actually out of sight, but not out of hearing range. Harry had heard the twins mucking about not long ago and Molly had screamed their ears off. They were probably close too. 

While Ron’s friendship (somewhat, arguably) was pure of heart, Draco’s was probably forced by his parents.

It didn’t matter. Harry was lonely anyways. 

“Let me see,” Draco curls his lips in distaste, eyeing Ron up and down. “Red hair and hand-me-down clothes? You must be a Weasley.” 

Ron puffs out his cheeks in defiance. Harry thinks it’s kind of cute when he does that. “At least I’m no bleached blonde,” he mutters lowly. 

Hiding a laugh behind a cough, Harry awkwardly rubs the back of his neck. As nostalgic and normal as it is to see the two arguing, Harry is tired. Really tired. And honestly, he doesn’t want to go through Hogwarts with having to look behind his back every few minutes because of Draco. Or anyone else for that matter. Why couldn’t they all just go through Hogwarts like some good friends? Great friends even? The best of friends actually? 

Having decided what he wants, Harry grabs Ron and Draco by the ears. At once, their arguing ceases and turns into a chorus of “ow, ow, ow’s.”

Putting on his most displeased frown, Harry waits for the two to quiet down. When they do, he opens his mouth to softly say, “If you don’t stop arguing, then neither of you will get to sit with me on the train.” He then releases their ears and places his hands on his hips, much like Molly used to do when she was telling her kids off. 

“Sorry.” Ron apologises, rubbing at his ear. There’s an embarrassed flush to his cheeks that highlights his freckles prettily. 

For a moment, Draco looks awe struck at the sight and then he’s shaking his head from side to side as if to clear his thoughts. “I apologise also,” he says.