𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 (🪄) 𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 ❝ there's no glory in taking the
easy path, only mediocrity. i'll take the thorns if it means i bloom brighter. ❞
RE-WRITTEN
harry potter and the philosopher's stone - the deathly h...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
HOW YOU GET THE GIRL ? 🩰 DRACO MALFOY ⋆｡‧˚ʚ 011. cruel summer ɞ˚‧｡⋆
⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆
The summer had been surprisingly quiet for Kimberly, with school reopening nearly a month away. Away from the bustle of Hogwarts, she found herself missing the daily challenges and camaraderie, even if she wouldn't admit it openly. As the days passed, she couldn't shake the feeling that something was amiss. Harry hadn't responded to any of her letters, which troubled her more than she cared to admit.
Determined to find out what was going on, Kimberly decided to visit Harry. Despite her mean demeanor, she felt a sense of responsibility towards him, forged through their shared experiences at Hogwarts. Snape was obviously hesitant to let her go, but Kimberly reassured him that she would be fine and simply wanted to visit Harry out of concern. Reluctantly, Snape bought her a ticket to London.
And now, here she was, arriving at the Potter household. She hesitated for a moment before knocking firmly on the door. A tall, brown-haired woman answered the door, wearing a pink flowery dress, an apron, and pearls.
"Who—"
"Kimberly Snape, Harry's... friend," Petunia nodded, a small smile on her lips as she welcomed her in. Kimberly stepped into the Dursleys' living room, feeling somewhat out of place amidst the mundane surroundings. She glanced around, noting the neatness and the distinct lack of any magical paraphernalia. Clearing her throat, she addressed Petunia respectfully.
"Thank you for having me," Kimberly said, her tone more sincere than usual. "Where is Harry?" she asked. "He's upstairs. If you want to see him, it's the last door on the left," Petunia said kindly.
"Thank you." With a nod of gratitude, Kimberly made her way upstairs, her footsteps echoing faintly in the quiet house. She paused outside Harry's door, taking a moment to collect herself before knocking gently.
"Harry?" she called softly through the door. "It's Kimberly. Can I come in?" There was a moment of silence before Harry's muffled voice responded, "Yeah, come in."
Pushing the door open, Kimberly found Harry sitting on his bed, holding a photo album. His room was sparse, lacking the warmth and personal touches one might expect from a teenager's space.
"Hey," Kimberly said gently, stepping into the room. "How are you holding up?" She approached Harry, who was sitting by the window, staring at an old photo album. "You know, I wrote to you all summer and you never replied." Harry turned to look at her, managing a weak smile before his gaze returned to the album. It was a photo of his mother, his father, and him as a baby, captured in a moment of happiness that seemed worlds away from the struggles of the present. "They look happy," she remarked softly. "You look a lot like your dad."
