Harriet Potter Novels & Stories

I could see Bel as an independent and brave woman. Now I wonder... What does she do in living? "I'm the only one who's living here, Clark. Don't tell me I'm the one that you're looking for?" she said sarcastically and puffed an air. She brushed her hair with the use of her fingers. I just shook my head from what I heard. She was assuming but I couldn't blame her. She has the right to assume this kind of situation. "It's not you. It's Magda." After I said that, I saw her body freeze. She even stopped picking up the biscuit on a plate. I sat down properly and stared at her carefully.

I shriek under my breath to avoid her from hearing, but she did. She turned her eagle like eyes at me and bore transfixed in my face. “You are a Harrish!” She shrieked happily and I stared totally confunded. “A what?” “A Harrish?” she hesitated, a baffled look ever present on her face. “A sucker for Harry Potter!!” I instantly burst into a fit of llaughter.I rolled uncontrollably in my chair, clutching my stomach in a desperate attempt to minimize the pain. My lungs constricted making it difficult to breath.

Hence, she pushed King Lawson away before slapping herself on the cheek to wake her up from whatever kind of hypnotism that the king seemed to do to her. “I don’t know how you came to know about what’s happening in the Arcana, but I am no longer acquainted with them. I am all by myself now and I can do whatever I want,” she said. “You won’t be able to change my mind so leave.” “Even the headmaster of the Arcana came to seek help from me.” “W-What?” “Harriet came to me in person. She begged on her knees just to–”

"I… I had headaches during that year. Every time I was around Professor Quirrell, I felt like a nail was burning and trying to bury itself into my head." Larry Potter made a little pause, and continued. "And it was always in the same region, in my scar." He finished saying. Professor McGonagall was looking at him like a doting grandmother that wanted to hug his grandson, but she was holding back. "Yes, your scar. One of my wives, Joan, the black haired lady with armor, due to the inclinations of her magic and blessings, is very sensitive to corrupted and dark forms of energy. And she told me that she had sensed a student with a piece of corrupted magic centered around his head that was tryin

All of Harriet's requests were only to make Angel stay by her side a little longer, but it was also her request that made her sleepy. After being persuaded by Angel and Sean, Harriet finally went to the room on the condition that Angel read her a fairy tale book. Harriet's favorite fairy tale book is three piglets. For some reason, of the many books that Harriet has, Harriet never gets tired of that story. "Mommy..." Harriet called while holding Angel's index finger, she really prevented Angel from leaving. Her daughter's eyes were almost completely closed, but still her index finger was still tightly gripped. Angel closed the three piglets story book and put it on the shelf near the bed.

"Well, if you don't like it, you know what the solution is, don't you?... Next time there's a ball ask me before someone else does and not as a last resort" — Hermione Granger, Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire M E Y W A N G | The Asian Potterhead "Mey!" Relief washed over Jess's face. "Where were you? We've been looking for you." She stole one curious glance at Ty. "And why are you with Ty?"

"If you come for her...we'll help. We are weak, but we can still fight." Then she was gone. Shawna and I gave each other a look, then floated into the room with pretend confidence. As soon as we were inside, alarms started blaring and some kind of invisible rope wrapped itself around our ankles. “Well, well, well,” the sorceress I assumed was Harriet said. “What do we have here? Two little spies?” She was pretty. That was the first thought that went through my head. And she had soft, gentle eyes, that made it difficult for me to believe that she could ever hurt someone.

And in the same time, all of their eyes widened. Before them is woman who muted the sounds of the world and made its axis halt. She is wearing a sleeveless floral dress and her chestnut wavy hair fell down perfectly behind her back. There’s no sunlight inside the mansion, but she brought the image of light reflecting through the droplets of rainy summer’s day. Harriet. That name itself is a work of art, painstakingly draw with blood, tears and passion. To say that Harriet was just gorgeous, was an understatement. Not acceptable.

Pretend I was sick and avoid another round of “Look who’s trying to fit into jeans again.” *Knock knock.* “Harriet! Come down for breakfast or you’ll be late!” my mum shouted from downstairs. Her voice cut through my thoughts like a blade so I yanked my shirt down, exhaled, and gave my mirror self a flat stare. This was me. Hi. I’m Harriet Avery. Female, if that wasn’t obvious. Seventeen. A Senior at Crestwood High—a hellhole politely disguised as a school, ruled by hockey gods and the spray-tanned cheerleaders who orbit them like glittery little moons.