A new/old pic of Tom with a fan
📷 @abdongomez1 - That moment you bump into @t22felton and get to chat for a minute,literally one of the kindest guys in Hollywood,can’t wait for his character on the flash! 😍🙌🏻🎉 #tomfelton #SDCC #harrypotter #theflash #summer16
“Seriously, who brought this guy?” That’s what I imagine Hermione saying everyday during that first year at #Hogwarts. This along with the “Stranger Danger” print are now available in my online store.
Have a great day all!
#Harrypotter #patrickballesteros #25centwonders #illustration (at San Diego, California)
Sunggyu ignored the smile from the boy who walked passed him; he was too preoccupied wondering into which house he’d be placed. He was getting impatient, it seemed he might be the last to get sorted. “Kim Sunggyu!” his name was finally called and Sunggyu nervously sat on the stool. As the Sorting Hat fell over his eyes, he heard as it deliberated; “Ravenclaw would fit you well, you certainly have the talent for it. But your ambition is strong… Slytherin could make you great. Hmmm, where to put you?” Sunggyu was getting anxious, it felt as though he’d been sitting on the stool for ages. Finally the hat exclaimed “Slytherin!” and as Sunggyu headed to his table, he found himself quite pleased with the Hat’s decision. As the last of the first years were sorted, the headmaster stood up to give his beginning-of-the-year speech…
The End! Phew, I did it! This took so much planning and painting, and most of it had to be done before I even released the first one ^^ Hope you enjoyed these as much as I enjoyed making them :3
The sorting hat was barely on his head before announcing “Hufflepuff!” to the Great Hall. Loyal, hardworking and kind, Myungsoo is a true Hufflepuff through and through, and at the hat’s declaration, Myungsoo grinned widely, jumped off the sorting stool and joined his fellow Hufflepuffs, Byul trotting along behind him.
Infinite at Hogwarts week has begun! Who will be sorted tomorrow?
Imagine Sirius thinking that you were dead, and his reaction when you come back into his life.
You had been hurt horribly. The breath had been knocked out of you, you were covered in blood that you weren’t even entirely sure was your own, and you had passed out. Your body had been counted among those of the dead, but you had managed to gain consciousness before being buried.
Sneaking out of your own coffin was a surreal experience. But they had cleaned you up. The quick spells of the overworked medi-witches had cleaned up your wounds, put you in your best outfit, and had made you look presentable for burial, which was acceptable for life.
There was only one place that you could go, and so you had stumbled along, going to 12 Grimmauld Place. You had been a secret-keeper, and so it wasn’t hidden to you, and you were safe to go inside, making your way through as you always had. You weren’t noticed, you hardly ever were by anyone except for one person - Sirius Black himself.
He had noticed you before anyone else. His hand, which was on the shoulder of his dear friend Remus, had tightened up and alerted the werewolf to your presence too. Their part of the large conversation ended as they looked upon you - who they had believe to have died.
As soon as your shoes touched the floor in the meeting room, Sirius was up and running towards you. His hands went over your shoulders, your hair, your waist, he kissed your forehead even, all in an attempt to see if you were real. You knew the precautions however, and in order to make sure it wasn’t a polyjuice potion, you called Sirius a name that only you called him in private.
“It’s really me, firecracker.” You smiled.
“Y/N…” Sirius breathed. Now that he knew it was you, he had no hesitation in meeting your lips with his for a kiss that you have been waiting a lifetime for.
So when Cursed Child first came out my Nana phoned me first thing to wish me “Happy Harry Potter Day” she never received the book herself since she had no idea it was out until she seen the news earlier that morning. I, of course, couldn’t allow my Potterhead Grandmother to not have her own copy of the Script and went literally everywhere around Glasgow searching for a remaining book, after three hours of driving about to countless book suppliers I finally found ONE left, but this didn’t really seem like quite enough, not when the woman had waited honestly hours in line so that she could get “The Tales of Beedle the Bard” for me years ago, so I included a letter from Dumbledore explaining that the owl had got lost with the book, and the book she was now receiving a day late is his own personal copy and also a Hogwarts acceptance letter. I left it on her front porch for her to find it herself (it seemed less magical if I were to hand it to her) and it’s all now framed in her conservatory! I love it!