⠀ ⠀ ⠀ on break til 07.05.22 * ⠀˚✧ ⋆｡˚
❝ 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘦, 𝘪 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘥𝘪𝘦 ❞
never, in all his ten years of living,
would have thought that a girl
named after a spring flower would
be the most magical thin...
Harry couldn't believe his eyes. There she was, standing beside the garden wall of Number Four, Privet Drive, the very same wall that his aunt would crane her almost abnormally long neck of hers about, spying on what Mrs Margaret was doing across the street, or how Mr Dodds was ruining the garden by using the wrong fertiliser again. Her dark raven hair laid in a tangled heap on her shoulders, lavender scarf having tumbled down in her running. Leaves and dirt hung from her dandelion yellow frock, and the red ribbons that replaced the laces of her boots were half-tied, falling limp at the sides in a haphazard fashion.
She was panting and huffing as if she had just run across a thousand fields, sweat dripping from her temple. Her dark eyes lacked their usual carefreeness and instead sported a murderous gaze trained at his own green eyes.
"You complete puta!" A fist hurtled at his bone-thin forearm.
"Ow!" Harry rubbed the already-red mark where Hyacinth landed the hit. "What was that for?"
"You ditched me!" Another punch, ow. "For a week!"
"What?" He swerved to the side, and her fist collided with metal, scratching the blue paint job that his uncle would kick up a fuss about. Hyacinth just carried on, not even caring for the flush appearing on her knuckles.
"You promised you would be there! We even made a pinkie promise." Hyacinth held up her pinkie, waving it all over his face. "You don't just break a pinkie promise!"
His heart dropped. The promise. He forgot about it. How could he forget about it? Everything seemed clearer now, the murky fog lurking in the back of his mind dissipating and leaving feelings of reproach and guilt. He was supposed to meet her the day after they met in her little patch in the forest. She said she would be waiting for him, and he said he would definitely be there. Harry scratched the back of his head, trying to form the explanation in his head. But, how could he explain the sudden appearance of a letter tornado down his fireplace?
A loud crash came from inside the normal-looking house, besides the wooden boards nailed to the front of the door, covering the mail slot. One of the nails even looked like it had a piece of candied fruit on it from a distance. The two of them jumped at the noise, one of them out of surprise while the other one winced. Harry knew that was probably Dudley trying to sneak in another one of his many game consoles or something. He also knew that it would take more than a couple of minutes to sort it out, ten if he was lucky, four if he wasn't.
