Black Hermione Granger Novels & Stories

“Do you love me?” I adored Hera but I would be lying if I said I loved her. “No but I want to.” I stared at her. Hera was a strong woman but seeing her blush and unsure was also nice. Her shoulder length black hair looked silky all the time, always tempting me to touch and find out how it felt. Her lips looked sinful and I'd imagined it doing inappropriate things sometimes but, her eyes, a mixture of hazel and gold. They seemed to suck you in once you stared at them.

He stepped inside with Prince Ron, leaving the Enforcer with Lord Eron standing watch outside. The chamber was dim, lit only by one torch on the wall and seated cross-legged on the stone floor was a goddess. Her hair was as black as midnight ink, bone straight and long, falling over her shoulders and back, decorated with silver rings and bone charms. Her skin was pale, as though there wasn't an ounce of blood in her veins and her lips were painted a deep black. She was dressed in a black cloak which exuded a faint smell of herbs but nothing about her was as astonishing as her piercing multicoloured eyes.

Ty che, blyad? When I blink open my eyes, I can see two people a male and a female standing there. The female smirks at us. Out of the corner of my eyes, I watch Zion and Alpha Zac flanking me against the female, who appears to be the black witch. She's dressed in a black robe but her skin is pale, almost ghostly. Her black nails stand in an extreme contrast against her pale skin. Even her eyes are black with a sharp nose and sharp facial features. Her ghostly black hair is flowing around her black robe and her white teeth flash as she smirks at us standing opposite to her.

“Well, aren’t you an underwhelming creature? I expected more from the one who will be complicit in bringing an end to hell.” Snapping my head up, I look in the darkest eyes that I’ve ever seen. There’s not even a hint of an iris, and her hair is as dark as her eyes. Her skin, however, is as white as snow and her lips are the color of blood. If she represented a sweet disposition, I’d say she was Snow White. But based on her cold expression, I’d say she’s more like the wicked witch. No, she looks more like Morticia Adams, in her tight, black mermaid gown with its wide sleeves. Rising carefully, I see demons standing nearby and that Fallon is nowhere in sight.

That wretched scream, and laughter, soft feminine, terrible voice. A woman emerged from the haze. Her dress flickered like shadow and flame. Her hair fell in a thick and tangled way around her shoulders, strands silver as black as nightmares. Zaira Blackthorn. I did not know how I knew her name, but I knew. The same way, I knew that she was a witch. "Such chaos," she whispered, voice like smoke and poison. "So much effort to protect something you were destined to lose." Behind her floated symbols drawn in blood, pulsing with sickly green light. I tried to run forward, to throw myself at her, to stop her, but my body would not move. My feet were rooted. My throat locked.

Hera uttered after she saw the scene within the magic screen she had created. The scene inside It displays two gorgeous women that could be considered their beauty to be rivals or even above any goddess. The first one has silver hair and seems to have a strong personality judging by her eyes, while the other one has black hair and seems to have a milder personality than the first one but her eyes were hidden with wisdom.

The line went dead. Teacher Grumpy was on the other end—that was what everyone at our workplace called her. She had a large, round head crowned with curly black hair, gray strands beginning to show at the ends. Her eyes gave the perpetual impression that she was neither fully awake nor completely asleep. A plump, reddish nose sat above her thin, pale lips. She favored red clothing, which only served to intensify her already forceful personality. She rarely smiled as if joy had been completely drained from her. According to rumors, she spent so much time in the company of a Dementor that she had taken on its characteristics.

***Evangeline point of view** The Great Hall sparkled with darkness. I stood before the massive mirror in my chambers, staring at someone I barely recognized. The woman looking back at me wore a gown made of midnight itself, black silk that seemed to swallow light and shadow flames dancing along the hem. Her dark hair was twisted into a crown of braids, and her eyes... her eyes were no longer brown. They were silver, cold as winter stars. This was Lunara Blackthorne. The Shadow Queen.

She cursed herself mentally. She was still lost in thought when a hand tapped her shoulder. She flinched in shock and almost reacted with a punch. She turned swiftly to see a girl who looked her age, standing behind her and wearing what looked like a maid's uniform. The girl was pretty,with big brown eyes,an oval face, small red lips and a slim figure. Amaya looked at her open-mouthed for almost a minute before the girl snapped her back to reality. "You must be the new girl the Don brought back earlier" the girl said in her tiny angelic voice.

“Don’t speak ill of the goddess, Valeria. Do you want to be stricken with madness?” “I agree with her.” My eyes narrowed as I peered at the figure in front of me through the darkness. She had blonde hair was clad in a black attire. I couldn’t make out the color of her eyes, but I could bet they were black. Sniffing the air quietly, I realized she wasn’t a werewolf. This woman was a griffin—a werewolf’s greatest enemy. “Get out of my path, thief.” I growled at her, hoping my aura would frighten her, but she remained calm. Weird.