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15.

Chapter Fifteen:

Harry goes about his next few days in basic and boring fashion. He sleeps in until well after midday, listens to the constant bickering of Nimmy and Verde with a fond smile and somehow obtains an increasing amount of foolishly hand drawn images of Voldemort. They're all unique in their own way, portraying one thing or another about him in an amusing way. Harry has scribbled hearts all around them along with his signature on the corner of the parchment. He has them safely tucked away in the bottom of his trunk -- a secret to be kept from anyone else.

Along with that, Harry has been spending a suspicious amount of time holding a certain velvet box in his hands. He gazes at the red shard of the philosopher's stone inside it for hours on end, holds the box up between his fingers and lets the light hit it at a precise angle. The way the stone lights up and glints the same shade of red as Voldemort's eyes has his chest painfully aching.

And yet, he can't bring himself to stop doing it.

"Master, you're doing it again." Nimmy makes the snake equivalent sound to a sigh, as if she's disappointed. She drops her head down into Harry's duvet, her tongue flickering out to taste the air.

Harry hums, lost in the way the Philosopher's shard changes colour depending on the way that he tilts it. Eventually, he asks, "Doing what?"

"Looking at the stone." Nimmy huffs. "Avoiding eating food."

"Not paying enough attention to us," Verde chimes in, slithering up to his sister. "The owl also brought you another letter. You haven't even spared it a glance yet."

Blinking, Harry snaps the velvet box closed. He pockets it and turns around in his chair to look at them. "Hedwig brought me a letter and I didn't even realise?"

"Well," Nimmy pauses as she makes herself more comfortable, "She did nip at you a few times, you just didn't react."

"Too enamored by the stone," Verde mutters in disdain.

"I'm not enamored," Harry is quick to deny.

If Nimmy could roll her eyes, Harry is certain that she would. "Fine. Infatuated then. Whatever."

Ignoring them, Harry turns away from his snakes and uses a tiny bit of his magic to beckon an innocent looking letter towards him from his bedside table. The moment he grasps it, he raises a single brow in silent question. The Malfoy crest sits over the middle of the envelope, silvery and perfect. Harry ruins it by snapping it open. The letter turns out to be an invitation to the Malfoy's annual Yule Ball.

Harry supposes he should go.

Since he's apparently allowed a plus one.

"So," Harry turns his attention back to his snakes, a grin spreading across his lips, "I suppose you'd both like to see Draco and Ron?"

At once, both Nimmy and Verde start apologising for getting in the way of his time with the stone. Saying how normal it is. And how very proud of him they are. And how they could never hate him for who he is--

Harry smothers them with nuzzles before they can say anything else.

"Sometimes," he murmurs, "it feels like I have two annoying children. But then I remember that I'm too young to have kids and everything's okay."