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

19.

meeee??? alive??? and updating??? i know, hard to believe :DD

anyways what's up guys? u good? u sad? u hungry? me three.

on a side note, i have a puppy!!! 🐕 she's a sheltie beagle mix and she has destroyed four computer cables, 3 chargers but if anyone ever hurts her i will kill everyone reading this and then myself ;) bc we all crave the deathly death yeet

ALSO TYSM FOR OVER 70K READS!! 🎊🥳🎉🥂 last time i was here this fic had 1k reads which really shows how long I've been gone for :DDDDD

and i am a lot more unhinged now and i am so, so, so, sorry :》

Chapter Nineteen: 

The days after the Malfoy's annual ball are… missing. To be specific, Harry doesn’t remember them. There's a giant gap in his memory and if Harry were normal, he'd be worrying. But since Harry is Harry and therefore immune to bullshit because he invented bullshit, he's most definitely not worrying. 

What he does remember is falling asleep on Tom's lap and then waking up on the loveseat, alone and covered with a grey cloak -- Tom's, it looked like -- and it was still warm. He remembers returning back to the ballroom, having found it void of Tom and pouting for the rest of the night. He might have danced with Pansy, but he isn't quite sure. What he does know is that he ate another slice of treacle tart and what happened after that, well, that's a mystery to Harry. 

He supposes he could ask Draco, or Ron, or Hermione or anyone else for that matter. But he would rather not know, what if he had done something embarrassing? He'd have to off himself again just to get rid of his embarrassment. 

Ah, he thinks, decisions, decisions. 

"Hey," Harry turns to talk to Draco who, as usual, is sitting beside him at breakfast, "what day is it today?" 

Draco pauses mid bite on his buttered toast. For a moment he is as still as a statue and then he closes his mouth. Weirdly enough his eyes are starting to water and his hands are trembling as he places his toast back down onto his plate. 

"What?" Harry asks, furrowing his brows in confusion. "Is there something on my face again?" 

"You're back," Draco says, voice filled with relief, "you were gone for so long and i--" 

"Harry, ignore him." Pansy voices from down the table, looking done with the situation at hand. "He's just being a drama queen again. You know how he is, all the spotlight needs to be on him."

Draco glares at her. He opens his mouth to retort something back but Theo cuts him off. 

"Yeah," Theo nods from beside Pansy, "nothing bad happened. You just disappeared into your head for about four days." He pauses. "I think."

"And you didn't talk, barely ate and barely slept. Nothing to be worried about at all." Blaise adds, opening the daily prophet with a scowl. "Oh good," he mutters to himself, "my mother's boyfriend is on page six. Dead. Yet again." 

"It was terrible!" Draco exclaims, completely ignoring Blaise. "I was so alone." 

Tracey sighs. "That's it," she stands to her feet and gathers her books into her arms. "I'm leaving before you all start arguing over useless necessities." 

"Harry," she calls, turning towards him, "have some treacle tart. It will make you feel better." She then leaves the table with a mutter off, "I should have gone to Ravenclaw."

"Great," Pansy scrunches up her nose, not looking the least bit remorseful, "look what you did blondie, you made her leave."

"And are you sure it wasn't your disgusting personality that did it?" Draco snides, his lips curling into a scathing smirk.