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

9.

Chapter Nine: 

A few hours into their train ride and Draco is still seething, silently now, at least. 

Earlier, he had been grumbling under his breath and making promising threats that even had Verde nodding along. Ron had looked a little red at hearing the creative ways that Draco wanted to tell Dumbledore to shove it, but nevertheless he more or less agreed. Ron even mumbled a quiet, “I thought he was better than that,” which resulted in Draco’s eyes narrowing as he started up a whole other rant.

And because of that, Nimmy took a surprising liking to Draco. She insisted on getting closer to the blonde and after reassuring Draco that Nimmy had more control than Verde with her anger, (which was a lie, but whatever), she ended up across the blonde’s lap and looked pretty smug about it. It seemed, that even Nimmy had gained a favourite. 

“Say,” Ron pauses to maneuver Verde from where he’s trying to climb onto the orangette’s head and holds him in his hands instead, “What house do you think you’ll end up in?” 

“Slytherin.” Draco answers instantly. “My family’s been in it for generations.” 

A frown graces Ron’s lips. “Same,” he says, “I can’t imagine being placed anywhere but Gryffindor.”
 

With a tilt of his head, Draco shifts so he’s facing Ron fully. “You don’t particularly sound happy about that,” he points out, gently picking Nimmy up and placing her onto his shoulder instead. The red and yellow snake wraps herself around Draco’s neck and gives a content hiss. 

“Don’t get me wrong,” Ron says, “Gryffindor is great. Really, it is. I just…” He trails of unsurely. With a shake of his head, he mutters a quiet, “Nevermind.”

When Draco furrows his brows and twists his lips into a deep frown, Harry awkwardly clears his throat to stop him from asking a question which could potentially make Ron sad. Instead, he opens his mouth to speak. “I’d actually like to be in Slytherin,” he admits.

Ironically, when he says those words, it’s like a bit of weight lifts itself from his shoulders. 

At once, Ron and Draco gawk at him. 

“But, but you’re… you’re Harry Potter.” Draco breathes out, bewildered. 

Harry can’t help but snort. 

About an hour later, Harry comes to realise one tiny, important detail. 

Ron doesn’t have a rat with him. 

Traitor. Pettigrew. Kill. Kill. Kill. Kill—

Harry gives a smile that doesn’t quite reach the corners of his eyes. He can’t think about Sirius. Not here. Certainly not now. “Verde,” he calls, slipping into parseltongue. “I need you to stay with Ron until he gets a rat. It’s ugly, missing a toe. Don’t kill it, just… paralyse it.”

“Of course, Master.” Verde nods. 

Ron and Draco stare at Harry curiously. 

“I was just telling Verde to stay with Ron until he gets a familiar of his own.” He explains. “Since it looks like you don’t have one yet.”