Harry Potter Aging Novels & Stories

Reluctantly I stopped my hot tongues exploration of his sweet tasting mouth and moved slightly away allowing me to completely liberate him of his T-shirt and allow my captured dress to finally fall to my feet. He now bent his head down to me his hungry mouth seeking mine and finding it he pushed his tongue in deep and I sucked on it, my cunt now awash with fresh cunt fluids trickling down my leg, I almost laughed at the feel, one of Harry’s little jokes, when ever I reprimanded him on looking at a younger woman was that he just liked looking at younger woman but much preferred an older bird, as he was a firm believer that the older the hen the juicier the bird, going by the amount that had b

Eventually, he became my friend as well. It wasn't easy to feel old. My movements were so limited! One morning, I stared at my old face in front of the mirror. I should be proud that I prolonged my life for seventy-two years. And it was a perfect time that I used my original spell, the spell that defies my mortality. If I were to go back to my younger age, I would choose 23. The spell is recorded in my spellbook when I enchant it, my eyes were closed, and after the enchantment, I opened my eyes again.

Harry said irritably, "We're obviously the ones who saw it first! Shouldn't everything be on a first-come, first-served basis?" "Whose kid is this? If I like it, then it's mine!" the woman snapped. Harry might have handsome features, but the childishness he portrayed made it obvious that he was only around 18 years old. The rich woman was already 45 years old this year. If she were any younger, she might just be attracted to Harry's type. It was a shame that only men in their 20s knew how to please others! This was why Harry was spared from the traumatic ordeal of being harassed by this older woman.

Lamech and Heremuah explained to me how they met Fire. “I am not very old but just a hundred and fifty years old," Heremuah began and I would be lying if I said that I wasn't surprised. “A hundred and fifty? Dude, you don't look a day above forty. And I am sure that if you were to shave your beard, you would look even younger,” I told him and it was the truth. "It's the power of magic. Every witch or wizard comes to an age where they stop growing. Like vampires, when our years stop, we don't grow old anymore.

“I’d like to hold a great-grandchild soon.” Arabella choked on the salad she had just started chewing. Harry glared at his grandfather. “Grandpa, don’t start—” Harry protested. “Just drink it. It’s safe. Traditional,” Hans interrupted firmly, then walked away before they could argue further. “I’ll be off now—I’ve already had dinner.” Harry groaned, pushing the bottle aside. "I don’t need that." Ever since his illness, he had consumed enough medication and supplements to last a lifetime. The thought of adding herbal tonics to the list only irritated him.

she said. “What?” he asked, struggling to contain the roar inside him. “I’m only twenty-one, but you’re what? Fifty or something. You’re old.” He glared at her, angry at her words. Her hands shook as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. Yes, he was nearing over fifty in age, but he looked no older than thirty. Werewolves and most of the sectors in the paranormal community aged slowly when they grew into their powers or ability. Witches were known for being thousands of years old but not looking a day over twenty-five.

Orion snorted, sending a spray of toothpaste into his beard. "Harriet, what kind of half-baked remark was that?" I shot her a dirty look. Harriet was losing her touch, if that's all she could come up with as an amusing comment. "You know, in Harry Potter, Harry could hear the snake moving around in the pipes." Harriet shook her head as she crossed her arms defensively. "I could hear you through the pipes. You guys were so loud I couldn't hear the echo of my own moans." I hopped to my feet and waddled over to the couch. I placed the back of my hand on Harriet's forehead. "No, you don't have a fever. Harriet, honey, I think that's the stupidest thing I have ever heard you say."

However, they haven’t seen each other since, even George who, unfortunately, was offended when Z did not accept the cloak he bought. “Are you okay, kid?” said Granny Williams, a seventy-year-old Wielder who managed to keep her younger features—that was so alike with George’s—even her sweet voice. In fact, she looked more like his sister than his grandmother. This was because of her fine skills with brewing anti-aging potions of her invention. She drinks this potion every year, which would drive her unconscious for days. Many Wielders were drawn to its unwavering effect but not everyone has the patient and the determination to brew such a potion. Besides, it could never stop them from dying,

Heat crawled up to my face "Okay, I...I won't drink much tonight" He rose a disbelieving brow. I tried again "I'm not gonna get drunk, alright?" He examined me "I'm still not allowing you to drink" "Just a glass?" "No. Geez, Diane you're still a little girl!" My jaw dropped and I blinked. "I am eighteen, Harry. Eighteen" "Well, you're just starting to develop into adulthood" He pointed out and at this point, I really think my jaw is now hitting the floor hard "You're just a year older than I am, Harry" I stated to remind him.

I wanted to age and die peacefully, I'm happy they didn't force me. “I'm really sorry for not turning into a vampire, I wouldn't have aged. I wouldn't have been old and haggard like this, Owen. I'm so sorry, I'm going to leave you soon." I say looking at him. I love my mates so much and the thought of leaving them hurts me deeply and my children too. They also stopped aging moment they hit eighteen. They are almost seventy now but they look the same as they were when they were eighteen. I'm glad atleast my mates won't be completely alone, a part of me through my children will always be with them.