Dumbledore's Hand Novels & Stories

The brilliant, arrogant silver-grey light that usually filled his eyes was completely gone, replaced by a dull, glassy glaze of pure exhaustion and pain. He didn't look at Oscar. He didn't look at Susan or his Beta, Remus. His hand, trembling and weak, reached up through the dust. His fingers brushed against Amora’s arm, his grip completely lacking the iron-tight force he usually used to command the world. "Amora..." Duncan whispered.

Her hand is propped up on a stack of ratty old towels, and blood slowly oozes from a large ragged gash in the top of her hand. “I see you’ve been busy,” I say, kneeling by her chair. “This is nothing,” she snaps, though the wave in her voice suggests otherwise. “Just a paper cut, really. Bandage it and be gone with ya.” I lean over her hand, getting a closer look at the white edge of her tendon peaking through. “Paper tends to do that when you use a spell book that doesn’t belong to you,” I say, already rummaging through my bag for the vial of water infused with magic and a clean cloth.

Three months after the surgery, my hand was fully healed. Alexander gave me a block of clay. An hour later, an exquisite rose sat on the table. "You've been reborn," he said, his eyes shining. In that moment, my heart skipped a beat. On the day I was discharged, he drove me to my grandfather's villa. "Isabella," he said, turning to me in the car. "I want you to know I'm in love with you. I have been since the moment I saw your soul through your art. But there's no pressure. We can start as friends."

I tilted my head to the left side of my bed, trying to check if there was someone here with me and my eyes met with a head bowed, and resting on a table surface just by the side of my bed. I tried to grasp a proper look at the face of the individual who sat there but it was almost impossible, except for the ear and a few strands of grey hair which I could see. I tried in vain again to lift my left arm but I felt a restraining order on it. I shot a glare at it, trying to unravel the cord that bound it and the individual who held it. Lo! I beheld a transparent rope; a closer look at it from the side of my eyes and I realized that it was a drip connected to my arm.

His eyes which had returned to their normal, grey hue turned green - bright, dazzling and comforting to Cwena. He stretched out his hands, closed his eyes for a few seconds and moved his lips in small, unreadable trends, muttering a spell. The wand shook on the ground, raised to air and flew straight into his hands. “Evictendius Relarmus!” Sir Oswic commanded in a booming voice as he managed to turn and look at the tyronimic. A massive gust of wind, almost as intense as the first sprang out of the wand and pushed the tyronimic backwards a bit and him forward, out of the tyronimic's grip - not before it yanked off a piece of his leg's flesh.

he clears a throat. I tilt my head up, only to my surprise; right in front of me is an elderly man. It's no average man with no average height, but a huge man. I mean, this man is more significant than a giant. He wore white and gold clothing, had long white wavy hair and a beard covering his whole chin, and had golden eyes, but he was different from Dominic. This man's eyes shine like the sun. It's like looking at Albus Dumbledore from Harry Potter.

Alice stared at Alicia with fear in her eyes as the pain started to spread through her entire arm. Gia turned to look at Alice and a wide smile spread across her face. She started to recite the spell of the forbidden magic in a louder voice and the pain In Alice's arm became worse. Gia brought out the small bottle that contained Alice's blood and opened it. Gia poured the contents of the bottle on the page of the book and suddenly the book started to glow bright Amber. “It's working!” Gia muttered. Her eyes were filled with anticipation. “sectumsempra legilimens Avada Kedavra!!!!!”.

She lets a giggle out at the visage of the old man on the floor, and turns back to walk to the head of the table, where a high back chair with the Ravenclaw shield was now located. Moments before, Albus Dumbledore tried to chase after Lord Ravenclaw, but crashed head first into an invisible barrier at the doors, bouncing back and dropping on his butt on the floor letting an ugly 'couch' of pain from the impact. That earned him a laugh from most people in the Great Hall. Joan, that is just the nearest one to the old man, snickers at his situation and comments. "You are lucky that Lord Ravenclaw put a bouncing barrier up and not a solid one, or else you would have broken your nose again."

Each dagger that fell onto the swamp flew back to his daughter in full force. The arena was engulfed in split-second darkness when the shadows of the Nether World crept for fraction of time – the momentary loss of control shook his spells that brought balance to the three worlds. The headmaster who saw the raging wrath within the emerald glint took a hasty decision, turning to the witches that cast the spell to make live streaming of the second battle. “Quick! Cut the – ” The headmaster froze when he felt the heavy grip of a calloused hand on his right shoulder. His neck was too shaky to glance at who it was.

On his black bookshelf sat a comic book collection that would make Kiaan jealous as well as books with symbols—some of which she recognised from Damien's jewellery. "So from what you said, it sounds like you guys were trying to summon an Alastor," he said as if the solution were obvious. "Exactly what I was thinking," Jess joked. Malus laughed. "These things usually last for a limited time." After going to his shelf and selecting a black covered book. When he opened it up, Jess saw it was full of handwritten script and drawings. He licked his thumb and flicked through the thick, off-white sheets. "Ah, did you notice if there was a full moon at the night of the spell?" he asked.