Daphne Harry Potter Novels & Stories

he asked, before storming from the punishment room they’d only just rediscovered, leaving all her expectations in ruins. Fortunately, it wasn’t the one with the mirrors. Her face was probably as red as a tomato. Knowing she needed to put this right, Daphne dressed hurriedly. The scarlet hose tied with ribbon at the top taunted her as did the lack of underwear. She wondered if the borrowed kirtle – one of Wynne’s – was enough to disguise who she was. Taken with the dark wig, probably. Of all people, she did not expect to encounter her former maid in one of the winding corridors.

Three Days Later Daphne stood at the National Gallery. Hair pinned in soft curls, her green eyes masked behind a veil of dark lashes. Her floor-length black gown hugged her in all the right places, a masterpiece of elegance and misdirection. No one would look at her and think killer. But the blade hidden in her thigh holster didn’t care what they thought. She moved through the crowd, champagne flute in hand, like she belonged. Every sense was alert. Her target, Viktor Petrov, hadn’t arrived yet. She had time to prepare. Time to breathe.

Hearing the king summon through mind linked was a mind blow for Daphne, she entered her room with rage, thinking how Ragnar suddenly changed because of the witch. Now, she is standing at the king's door, carrying a coffee in her hand, she prepared exactly the way the king always wanted his coffee to be, wanting to use it to bribe her way into the king's heart, she has heard he sent the little witch into the dungeon. She readjusted her clothes, exposing her cleavage, then she knocked for the second time, slowly the door finally opened, she let out a relieving breath and walked in.

The carriage jerked forward and stuttered into movement as Nicole leaned over Daphne, pulling out the vials of potion she usually carried with her. “You have to drink this–” Daphne screamed in terror, turning violently. Her power rushed past and cut into the interior of the carriage. Nicole lifted her carefully and met her gaze. “Look at me, Daphne,” Nicole said. “This potion will save your life. It will help you.” “Ba…by?” Daphne whimpered. “Yes,” Nicole said. “It’s you and his best chance.” Daphne nodded her head and opened her mouth, allowing Nicole to pour the potion into her mouth. She swallowed weakly until the vial was empty and Nicole lay her back on the ground. Daphne’s eyes flutter

Daphne whispered as the weird book opened and she held Max's hand. "Is she a witch?" Adam asked me quietly as we stepped back to give Daphne and Max space. "No I don't think so and she doesn't smell human but she smells familiar all floral like." I mused biting my lip. "Done." Daphne said stepping back as the girl looked at the vanished mark in disbelief before she spoke. "I am fairy and the cauldron is protected by a fairy ring." she whispered in a hoarse voice.

Daphne could have torn apart the table we were sitting at with her bare hands and not even break a nail doing it. Valkyries also had magic, hence al the sparks flickering around us and in other spots in the dining hal where the girls were sitting. Every time Daphne's French-manicured nails scraped against something or she got particularly emotional, little princess pink sparks would shoot off her fingertips and fil the air. Daphne had once told me that her fingers were like sparklers on the Fourth of July. I didn't mind the cracks and flashes of color, though. Sitting next to her was like being close to a rainbow. Wel , if rainbows were solid pink. And volatile. Sometimes Daphne's temper fla

"Everything alright darling?" I don't answer her, but lay my head on her shoulder. She leaves me alone, playing her fingers in my hair. I close my eyes to the soothing touch of her fingers combing my hair. Olivia has been helping keep me calm since we learned about Victoria's special spell to change me into a Dhamphir along with my baby.

"The note read, Dear whoever is reading this, you urgently need to get ahold of the police when you find this note, my name is Freya Edwards I'm being held captive by a man called Anthony Richards. He's allowed me to go shopping with him so this was my only chance to ask someone for help, he's keeping us not far from this shop in a huge house, I can't write much as he'll find out but please again give this to the proper people" Jacob finishes reading the letter which makes tears form in Blake's eyes just to hear the words that Freya wrote, but Jacob wasn't finished "we checked the security footage and found this" he says turning a tv on to show an aisle in a shop.

She thinks I'm a good person? She's the only person I know who has told me I'm a good person. People call me Draco in the underworld, and most people associate it with the devil, dragon, demon, etc. But my fiery kitten thinks I'm a good person. Would she have the same view about me if she knew and saw what I was capable of? I know I'm not a psychopath who just kills people without thinking, but I've taken down some people because the world would be a better place without them, so I guess I did something good.

“That’s right, I want her out of Jordan’s life. But I am your accomplice right? Don’t you think that I have a right to know why you want her? She’s an omega. How did she get so powerful to kill my driver? Just in one blow? I have to know this if you want my help.” The witch turned to me with her eyes staring fiercely at me. I didn’t need anyone to tell me that Daphne is of great importance to her. But why? Why is that lowlife so important to everyone? First, it was Alpha Jordan. Now, this witch? “Eleanor, getting to know many things might be getting close to your grave. If you still need my help, you know how to find me.” The witch smirked and turned to leave, but I gripped her robe.