Dumbledore's Hand Novels & Stories

I ask, my voice barely above a whisper. Alden didn't answer my question. Instead, he stood up, letting go of my hand which he had been holding tightly even as I pulled away from our embrace. He walked towards Lorin, his expression unreadable. Kneeling beside the sorcerer, he offered him a hand to get up. A gesture which surprised me. Lorin stared at Alden's extended hand, his yellow eyes gleaming brightly. After a long moment, he took Alden's hand, wincing as he was pulled to his feet.

Then the hand began to dissolve. It happened slowly at first. A fingertip faded into drifting snow. Then another. Then the palm scraped into particles of frozen magic. The last thing to remain was the shape of the fingers, trembling as if trying one last time to reach through. The wolves held their breath. Marek’s arm pressed protectively against me. Lucian positioned the broom like he might try to defend us from the concept of snow itself. The hand vanished completely. A hush fell over the hallway.

Paul had an old classmate named Albus Copperfield who dabbled a little in witchcraft and dark magic on the side, so he was the best person to contact for these kinds of "mystical" issues. Albus came to our house that very night. When he glanced at my baby, he heaved a sigh of relief and said, "It's a good thing that you discovered the issue with that gold bangle and removed it. Otherwise, it wouldn't only be your baby's body that would be transferred. Your sister would have siphoned all of your luck away, too!

I asked, confusion evident on my face. “There are a lot of things that you've made me do for the first time,” he said and motioned to me as we moved toward a deserted hallway. He held out his hand, and with his palm facing upwards he chanted some gibberish tongue. Making hand gestures as if he was trying to pull out something from thin air. As he casts the spell, a shimmering, astral light manifests before him, taking the form of a magnificent, ornate tome. The Codex umbra as he went on to explain to me materializes in his hands.

I don’t want to be a liar. I hold my right hand up, palm towards the sky. Bellamy uncorks the potion bottle and gives it back to me. I hold my breath as I pour it slowly over my hand. It’s so quiet in our circle that I suspect I am not the only person holding my breath. The spell looks pink on my hand and it is a much thicker consistency than I thought. More like custard than water. I was almost right about it glittering, but it’s not glitter, it’s more like tiny sparks. I pour the entire bottle over my hand, strangely none of it ends up on the floor, even though there is far more in the bottle than I should be able to reasonably hold in my single hand. When the bottle is empty, Bellamy recl

He smiled widely and looked at her happily “Believe me, Grace, I have never been as confident as I am now.” He stopped talking for a moment, before approaching her cautiously, placing his hand on her stomach “I know very well that you consider me just a stranger, but please give me a chance, don’t let go of my hand.” She looked at the hand he was extending to her. This was the first time anyone had done something like this "Thank you very much, Harry." She whispered to him as she held his hand. He smiled broadly as he kissed her hand, looking at the door behind which Galadriel was standing. He was restraining himself with great difficulty, wanting to get in there and destroy everything aroun

He pulled us both up, claws digging in, as the grand wizard raised his arms, a malevolent spell weaving in midair. "I think you ladies owe me a dance."

His expression remained unreadable as the meeting droned on, but as I reached him, his eyes flickered briefly toward me, a dark glimmer in their depths. I poured the water into his goblet, careful not to spill a drop, my focus entirely on the rhythmic sound of liquid filling the cup. As I straightened, his hand shot out, swift and discreet, capturing my right wrist. The movement was subtle—so subtle no one at the table noticed as his fingers wrapped around my wrist, pulling my hand beneath the table.

Even if it was locked, it wasn’t too hard for someone of your kind. The dome shone beautifully as the moonlight touched it. The mysterious being opened it and put his hand above the parchment. He took a dagger and cut off the palm of his hand. His blood mingled with the others. The dome was closed and silent steps went towards the door that was closed as if no one had stepped there.

We stood a foot from each other while she was holding my hand. “This is irrevocable.” He whispered making me gulp the lump in my throat. “I understand.” He turned around and I watched him leave; he returned with two goblets and handed them to me. The nail on his thumb grew and he used it to slit his wrist. He let his blood drop in both goblets. He took the two goblets from me. “Do the same.” I slit my wrist too and poured blood into both goblets. He handed me the other one, I held the cup using my left hand while my right was holding his hand.