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

6.

"But Master!" Verde whines. "That's boring!"

Closing the book, Harry gives an impish grin. "It's too late to look for another name now, Verde. I've already closed the book and I'm too tired to open it again."

Nimmy laughs. "The correct word to use, Master, would be lazy. You're too lazy to open it again."

Harry supposes she's right.

With only a few days left before the first term starts, Harry walks down Diagon Alley, going from one shop to another. He buys a set of cauldrons, two potion kits, the books he'll be needing for his first year and even stops by the Owl Emporium to pick up Hedwig.

"Hello beautiful," Harry murmurs softly as he strokes her white feathers. He tries not to cry as she hoots at him and then takes flight, going to Harry's room in a shady place down in Knockturn Alley.

Harry had stayed at the Leaky Cauldron as long as he could without Tom, the bartender, getting suspicious. It had lasted a week before Harry broke down under Tom's narrowed gaze and concerned questions before he had just upped and left. After that he had took a walk down Knockturn Alley, hair bright and bubbly, atrocious and pink and got himself a room in an old inn run by a woman of the name 'Cynthia.' She didn't ask questions, just took one look at the arguing snakes around his throat, took his money and gave him a room. Harry was very thankful. The room wasn't as clean as the one in the Leaky Cauldron, but it was a lot better than his little cupboard. He still had a bed, a wardrobe, lots of space to move around and most importantly secrecy.

Humming, Harry enters Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. He settles his shopping bangs on a nearby seating area and beams when he hears a delighted, "Mr Potter! Welcome back!"

Harry turns around to greet Madam Malkin. "Hello," he says, tone shy of amused. "How has your day been so far?"

The woman doesn't seem to mind, because she grins herself. "Oh, it had been wonderful. I've had many customers today, you see." She replies. Today, her hair is covered in feathers of all colours and once again, her wand is tucked behind her ear. "And Oh! You look splendid!" Madam Malkin gushes, once she eyes him over.

Blushing, Harry runs his fingers down his dark green sweater. It hangs lowly off his shoulders and it's ever so soft. He had paired it with black jeans that he had asked Madam Malkin to make a few days prior, and a pair of high converse that he had bought out in muggle London. He had sneaked past Tom in the Leaky Cauldron not long ago to buy them. "Thank you," Harry says earnestly.

With a coo, Madam Malkin ushers him towards her desk, "I've got your robes and your custom clothes ready, I'll be right back Mr. Potter." She flashes him another grin and then disappears behind the curtain.

"She's always so chatty." Nimmy voices from where she's curled around the right side of Harry's neck, head laid gently over his collar bones.

"She's nice though," Harry says quietly. "And she hasn't given away my location to any media or Dumbledore, for that matter."

"Do you trust her, Master?" Verde questions from where he's curled around Harry's neck on the left side, his head laid gently over bony collarbones.

"I guess," Harry answers. "It's not like she has a reason to betray my trust in her-"

A series of soft noises, like a 'thud,' sound just behind Harry and cut him off. Raising a brow, Harry turns around only to come face to face with three familiar blondes with the same silvery grey eyes.

The Malfoy's.

Draco is staring at him with wide eyes, hands awkwardly held out in front of him, like he had dropped something and tried to catch it. Narcissa is stood behind him, her eyebrows are slowly trailing higher and higher up her forehead. Lucius on the other hand, looks like everything he had fought for had just slipped between his fingers.

Lowering his line of sight, Harry eyes the many dress boxes that are littered across the plush carpet. Most of them are half open, showcasing a variety of rich materials.

Ah, so that's what Draco had dropped.

Harry raises his gaze back up. "It's the hair, isn't it?" He smiles. "People are always having different reactions towards it."

Internally, Harry screams a series of fuck, fuck, fuck.

1339 words//unedited.

++++
harry: *speaks parseltongue openly*
the malfoys: *sweats*

((idk if nimmy really is hindi. i found it online and that was the info attached to it.))

((Also. Let’s be very honest here. If this were canon and Harry had met Nimmy, he would have probably named her Godrica after Godric Gryffindor because of her colours. Smh.))

harry: *squints at red and orange* hmmmm.... ah! i know what ill call you! godrica!

red and orange/yellow: *turns to green and black* suffocate me. please. just end me.

green and black: O-o