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...
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HOW YOU GET THE GIRL ? 🩰 DRACO MALFOY ⋆｡‧˚ʚ 026. the heir of slytherin ɞ˚‧｡⋆
⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆
"That must be the entrance," Kimberly whispered, her voice laced with fear as she stepped closer to the ominous door. Harry nodded, his expression tense, and began speaking in Parseltongue. The ancient, sibilant words echoed through the chamber, and with a loud creak, the sewer door slowly opened.
They cautiously entered, their footsteps echoing in the vast, dark chamber. The walls were adorned with intricate carvings of serpents, and towering statues of snake heads loomed over them, casting eerie shadows. The cold, damp air made Kimberly shiver, but she pressed on, her heart pounding in her chest.
As they moved deeper into the chamber, a figure lying motionless at the end of the hall caught their attention. "Ginny!" Harry exclaimed, his voice filled with panic. They sprinted towards her, dropping to their knees beside her lifeless form.
Kimberly reached out, her hand trembling, and touched Ginny's wrist. It was as cold as ice. "She's freezing," Kimberly said, her voice barely above a whisper, her face pale with worry.
Harry looked up, his eyes searching for any sign of life in Ginny's still body. "Ginny, wake up," he pleaded, but there was no response.
Suddenly, a voice broke the heavy silence. "She won't wake." Kimberly's head snapped up, her eyes widening as she saw a figure emerging from the shadows. It was Tom Riddle, his handsome face twisted into a sinister smile as he approached them.
"Tom. Tom Riddle," Harry muttered, confusion and fear mixing in his voice. "What do you mean she won't wake?"
"She's still alive, but only just," Tom replied, his tone calm, almost indifferent, as if discussing something trivial.
Harry frowned, trying to make sense of the situation. "Are you a ghost?"
Tom shook his head, his smile widening. "A memory," he explained, "preserved in a diary for fifty years."
Kimberly felt a chill run down her spine as she realized the gravity of their situation. "What have you done to her?" she demanded, her voice trembling with anger.
Tom looked at Kimberly with a smug grin. "I didn't do anything."
Harry, his voice tinged with urgency, said, "You've got to help us, Tom. There's a Basilisk."
"It won't come until it's called," Tom replied, his tone casual, almost dismissive.
Harry and Kimberly exchanged a glance of alarm before noticing something—Riddle was holding Harry's wand. Slowly, they stood up, Kimberly instinctively pointing her wand at him.
