Harry Potter Aging Novels & Stories

"Yes Ms. Bell, I'm really 1010 years old. I was born on the 31st day of October of the year 982. And no, I'm not immortal. Very few beings can be said to be truly immortal in this world, and I'm not one of them. What I am is ageless. Meaning that I don't age. More specifically, my body will not age beyond its peak form. And that's why I am 1010 years old and look no older than 25. Good question, one that I always receive. Next one, Friar Tuck, if you please?" The students from Hufflepuff put their hands up. And Fat Friar, with his ever jolly persona, floated a little above the Hufflepuff's table and pointed to a student, choosing him for the next question. "Mr. Diggory." "Yes! Cedric Diggory

By that time, I think she’ll be resigned to looking old. My friend’s advice though: The side effects of this enchantment ages your body 10-20 years more than your actual age when the spell fades. It isn’t worth it. And the mother did pay for it by the next year… But that’s another story. ++++++++ And if you would like to doubt these stories that I've told you tonight, go ahead. I lose nothing by your skepticism. After all, I did warn you that a few of the stories that I share may not be true...

Despite their different appearances, there was one fact that he couldn’t stop laughing at. As their appearance was opposite to each other, their age was also opposite. According to Lord Shadow (she received the information after scouting the area with Sabrina that one particular night) the wizards were mostly in their early 40s at best. Yet, their appearance was like 100-year-old men and women. “Ho ho!” Hashim placed his hands behind his back like he was a wise old man. “Young kids nowadays have no respect.” He said arrogantly. The wizard flinched. His weary and old eyes fluttered at him in both confusion and denial.

Liza said, clearly impressed. “A thousand years? How old are you?” Edgar asked. “I’m one thousand three hundred and forty five years old, and my mate is one thousand two hundred and sixty six years old,” Hogan replied. “You both don’t look a day over thirty!” Pixie exclaimed. “We can choose to slow our aging at a certain appearance, and I chose twenty eight, while my mate chose thirty,” Liza smiled. “What’s a mate?” I asked.

Granny Atherton took a napkin and gracefully wiped the red wine stains on the corner of her mouth, then stared at Draco coldly. "Your grandson is turning twenty-eight this year, right?" Draco nodded excitedly as Granny Atherton was willing to speak to him. "Yes, he's about the same age as Edwin." However, Granny Atherton's next sentence instantly shattered Draco's mood.

Blake said, and with a snap of his fingers, Gary began to groan. Before everyone’s eyes and to their horror, Gary began to grow old. His age became that of a middle-aged man within seconds, then he became the same age as the patriarch, then over took him in his age. “AUGH! STOP! PLEASE STOP!” Gary yelled as every cell in his body became old and fragile. When the aging process finished, Gary was a feeble old man who could hardly keep his body up in his chair, and he slumped with heavy breathing, forcefully being taken.

I let out after I had already cast a spell on her, but it just did nothing. "How old was Pryce when you thought of putting a spell on her, my dear cousin?" Sander asked, and I scratched the back of my head and answered, "Forty years old." "Oh, that's why! She is damn currently forty-eight years old, you dimwit! It would help if you thought that she was two thousand years old or older so you could get the result of making her look old would work. Try again." She babbled but got the idea that I needed, and I decided to try again. Two thousand years old, here we go.

"Words are, in my not-so-humble opinion, our most inexhaustible source of magic. Capable of both inflicting injury, and remedying it." ― Albus Dumbledore, Harry Potter, and the Deathly Hallows * H U N T E R J O N E S | The Lovestruck Bad Boy I unlocked the door and hold it open so the girls could get in. After having lunch and getting desserts with the girls, I felt bad for leaving Nat alone at home so we had cut our Christmas shopping short and gone home afterward.

That’s when I noticed tears shining on Harry’s cheeks, each drop glinting in the light like tiny crystals as they rolled down. “Mum, am I a monster?” he asked, his voice cracking. I frowned, a wave of protectiveness rising in me. “No! Where did you get that idea?” My heart ached at the thought of him feeling this way. “Then why does my finger grow long every time?” He spread his little hands wide, and my stomach sank as I saw blood stains on his palm and shirt. He probably got them from trying to hide the fingers from his friends. He has been experiencing imbalance shifting at just four years old. At barely this age, he was already showing signs of being a werewolf which was a transformation

Aurora’s P.O.V He froze for a beat. Just a beat. But that hesitation spoke volumes. His mouth opened and closed once, then again, and finally, with a resigned sigh, he mumbled, “It wasn’t like that. We all know witches can’t use magic before we turn eighteen.” I crossed my arms, giving him a look that told him I wasn’t going to let that slide.