Alan Rickman As Professor Snape Novels & Stories

I wasn't welcomed in their midst. "Bloody hell!" I rose up and banged the table. It's been there a while now, this anger, escaping when I always feel cheated on or dared in an unfriendly manner. I was angry at the guard guiding the entrance, at the maid that prepared the snack and tea on the table, heck, I was even angry when my tea wasn't quite at the right temperature. But the truth was, my life needed changing for the better, because there was more going into this brain and body than I could handle and still be me. So, even if it's not okay with them, I was going to start working on my real purpose. I had even completely forgotten she was present with us till I saw her oval rounded face a

And no one was curious enough to visit him in his office lately to check how he was doing. After all, no one in the entire Iridos would suspect their Headmaster of doing anything out of the line. So they just let him be. Never would they dare imagine, not even in their wildest dreams that the Professor Sonny who was highly respected by many could be an apprentice necromancer in his past.

“Lora is an aspiring conductor, and Anya is a promising composer with a good ear. I hope you remember them.” Strangely, the professor’s gaze lingers on mine for longer than a second. No, it’s already been over five seconds and counting. They’re assessing me, and I can’t seem to take my eyes away from them too. Goosebumps parade all over my body. Wait a second. I know that voice! I’m good at remembering voices. “Believe me. I definitely will, Kristoff,” Professor Sebastian states, now unsmiling. “Because I ran into Ms. Scott earlier on the porch, and she doesn’t seem to recognize me without the mask.”

the man called out, voice hoarse but familiar. Professor Alden Crowe — no relation to Damien — one of the most respected occult history professors at Blackthorn. Tall, bespectacled, with salt-and-pepper hair and a torn tweed jacket. He looked exhausted but alive. Sane. “Professor Alden?” Serena’s eyes widened. “You survived?” The professor limped forward, clutching a glowing rune-etched staff. “Barely. I’ve been hiding in the restricted archives beneath the gardens. When I saw your violet magic flaring, I knew it had to be you.”

Beside him sat a man I had never met before. “This is Professor Daniel Reed from Northlake University,” Dr. Ford said. “He’s the external reviewer for the joint project. Maya, walk him through your research design.” I looked at the man across the table and lost half a second. Daniel Reed was nothing like Ford. Ford was sharp, severe, and impossible to relax around. Reed was quieter, but his presence was harder to ignore. He wore a dark shirt beneath a clean-cut jacket, his sleeves turned back just enough to reveal long fingers and a spare silver watch. He looked composed in the way some people looked dangerous without trying.

"Commander, Professor Kentucky Springham is found dead in the school." "What?" Jake shouted, causing the soldier to shake as it was at his back and high-pitched. "You mean, in our school?" "Is there any other school he goes to teach in, Jake?" Alpha Killian gritted his teeth. "No, definitely not, but I am... He was an annoying professor. Always bothered me. He was still helpful. He was Oliver's favorite teacher." He said. No one was amused with his behavior. Being born a wolf also provided them with strength to grasp such news of murders and other felonies with ease. His father was rather cheerful for his son was learning quite well for his age.

Her eyes went back to the laptop, as Greg reached her and gently placed her plate of sandwich in her hands. They sat beside each other and stuffed down their food quickly as they listened to the Professor’s conversation on the phone with who she quickly realized was Gilbert Dankworth. This was the first real piece of information they would be getting since she bugged the Professor. Because surprisingly, he lived a pretty dull life and his penthouse was silent with almost no visitors. Even this conversation was pretty boring as they listened to the man and his uncle talk about an upcoming award ceremony. And how this award if he won, would be a pretty important first step if the Professor int

I snapped clinging onto my hairpin ready to take her out. “Calm yourself Earis,” she whispered then pointed in front of the theatre. My head moved in sync with her hand and that's when I saw him. The very hound that had marked me, dressed in a black suit leaning against the professor's table. My breath caught in my throat. “Silence…” Prof. Corner's timid voice sliced through the noise in the theatre. “I know this is your final year but we have a new professor from Cambridge, he'll be taking your drama classes from today,” he added.

He didn’t say a word. Didn’t need to. He simply bowed his head down. The professor clapped once. “Splendid!” The quirky professor spun with a flourish, his violet coat flaring like a stage curtain. He now faced the boy standing calmly in the back—Elarion. “Now, now, now... Tower boy,” he said, tilting his head, a teasing lilt curling every word. “Would you mind disabling those delightful little explosion spells you planted on the three? Unless, of course, murdering someone is part of your morning ritual.”

The line between what had been real and what had been fantasy seemed to blur more with each passing hour. My first class back was Healing and Herbalife, Professor Ronan's class. I sat in the back row, hoping to blend in and avoid attention. But the moment Professor Ronan walked into the classroom, my pulse started racing. He looked exactly as he had in my dreams, tall and imposing, with dark hair and those piercing green eyes that seemed to see straight through me. "Good morning, class," he said, his Scottish accent sending shivers down my spine. "I hope you all completed the reading on medicinal plant identification."