Did Dumbledore Kill His Sister Novels & Stories

I finally let go of Nicky's hand and stood up with the nurse's support. "Scott, Nicky called you an animal, but I feel that's an insult to them. What exactly was going through your head when you tortured and murdered your own sister?" Scott, heedless of the pain, cried out, "I didn't kill her! Nicky isn't dead! She's still at Happyland!" Drake forced him to look at the wounds on Nicky's body. Dozens of puncture holes from the knives were still oozing blood. To keep her remains intact, the blades had been left in her body.

The images her sister put into her head kept replaying. How she died. How she stabbed Nessa. How she dropped Rose at the orphanage. How she overheard her mother, Athena, telling Nessa to kill her child. She gritted her teeth together and gripped the edge of her ball gown like she wanted to kill it. "Mother?" Rose called out to her and she faced her. "What happened?" She asked with worry lacing her tone while Austin just looked at her. "She used the forbidden spell of locking one's real image and that was what killed her. I killed her. My only sister, my blood. I..." She choked on her spit.

I gulped and looked into her eyes with a pleading expression, “Mother….” This only flared her hatred even further. Releasing me abruptly, she snapped, “Stop calling me your mother. You lost that right the day you killed your sister.” Tears rolled down my cheeks and a pained whimper escaped my lips. Dropping to my knees, I held her leg, “Mother, please don’t say that…. I… I didn’t kill my sister. She was killed by The Grand Magus.”

“Next thing we knew, he drove off without saying anything.” “What bad news?” I demanded, my patience fraying. He swallowed, his eyes flicking to the floor. “Ghost, his sister. She’s dead. She was murdered.” My eyes widened, shock slamming into me like a freight train. My hand flew to my mouth again, a gasp escaping before I could stop it. Ghost—Damon’s sister, the one he’d tried to call, the one he’d trusted—was dead. Murdered.

Back to the topic, since dad had already written his power on my name in his will, that was the reason why Arthur got nothing even after killing him. My dad was the strongest witch/warlock/wizard in the world and so was his death weapon. My dad could be killed using his own blood only, that's why Arthur killed my brother first and then my sister who tried to come between the both. Using their blood he killed my dad and like I said before. A witch/warlock/wizard dies, if their bonded one dies, so after my dad's death my mom died too. Since we were triplets, after the death of my elder brother Alessandro and sister Aurora, their powers were also transferred to me making me the most powerful cr

I had no idea what was about to happen, but a dreadful feeling gnawed at me for something I had done just five minutes ago. "You know, I've waited for this day," he kept whispering happily as he ran. But then he abruptly stopped, and the rest of us came to a standstill too. "Wait! Kellice! NOOOOO!" His scream pierced our ears, and I recoiled from the horrifying sight. The she-wolf I had killed was his sister. The very same sister they had kept alive for so long, only for her to pass away without ever receiving the antidote. "No! No! Dad can't do this," he cried out loudly, tears streaming down his face. He shook his head as he dropped to his knees, and the bottle of antidote shattered beside

“What do you mean?” Sylvia sighed, a shadow passing over her features as she recalled something painful. “You know about my sister, don’t you? Kalazar didn't kill her. She sacrificed herself. And not without reason. When Kalazar took her, she learned of his plans—plans that were far worse than any of us imagined. She wasn’t a weak witch; she knew what had to be done to stop him. They both locked into a duel. So, she used a forbidden spell—a spell so powerful, so deadly, that it was meant to take both the caster and the target. The impact of that spell was brutal, leaving only a 0.01 percent chance of survival. The news that came to us afterward said they both died that night.” The weight of

Macbeth replied, glaring at me and I stared at her, confused. What the hell did she mean by that? " What are you talking about?" I demanded. " Your brother killed my sister Alex. He fucking killed her! " She hissed, her eyes turning ocean blue. " What nonsense are you spouting? I don't have a brother, talk less of a twin! " I yelled. " Yes you do and you were just the same as him. You and him were responsible for killing my sister. " Macbeth yelled and I was taken aback.

A woman was being resuscitated inside a patient's ward. My older sister, Yvonne Jones, was crying hysterically as she begged the doctor to save the woman. I was the only one who was aware that Yvonne was the real murderer. Yvonne was kneeling on the ground as she begged the doctor who was trying to save the woman, "I'm begging both of you to save her. Winona is my best friend!" Everyone inside the ward was touched by their friendship and tried to comfort her.

she murmured, calling for her dead sister’s name, Laura, whose blood was spilt among the blood of the other witches and wizards in the city – to which is her nightmare until now. She could still vividly remember the mutilated corpses of her kin when she finally reached the place where they held the ritual. Along with those corpses were her sister’s corpse, which was the worst. Hatred and sorrow filled her heart, to which made her slaughter those mortals who were chasing her that day. She already killed some of them, so it was no problem if she would kill more! “Sister…” the witch sniffled as she curled up on the hammock while her body shuddered after the cold, late night wind blew and touche