Harry Potter Beards Novels & Stories

After parting the curtain a little in an unnoticeable manner, Harry peeped to see if he could recognise anyone. At first, all he could see were three teenage boys in a hoodie. Later when he began to pick words from the conversation, he realised there was only a masculine in the trio; the others appeared to be feminine. This was vindicated when one pulled her hoodie off her head, and shaked her hair. It was a short bub, and Harry couldn't remember where he'd seen this person, but he was sure the face was familiar — he just couldn't place it right.

Harry was now sprawled on his back. His arms stretched out crosswise to his sides. His nose was bleeding from the kick he'd received in the face, and he had to cough to get rid of the blood filling his throat. The young redhead let out a pained groan as Alpha Black lifted him by the hair. Harry's usually well-groomed brush cut had grown long enough for the Mad one to grab it quickly.

Harry gasped and Indianna recognised the second person when he fell to his knees. He looked different. His hair was longer and his beard had grown out of control. His skin was covered in marks and bruises, but Indianna could never, ever forget his face. She took a small step forward and froze. Her eyes were wide and focused only on him. Harry was talking to her, but she couldn't hear him. Her vision blurred and she realised she was crying. She was too scared to move any closer to him, scared that this was one of Rogue's sick jokes.

Regrets started to drown me in. Ty laughed and I quickly focused my attention back on him. "So that is why he has been searching for Harry Potter books! You turned him into a Harry Potter lover." "A Potterhead!" I gave her a disapproving look. Muggles, smh. "Yeah, whatever you call it." He rolled his eyes, clearly did not care, and I shot daggers at him.

The group of men filter behind the grizzly bear in front of us. Gee-gee lets out an over exaggerated laugh. “Oh, I’M SORRY, I must be misunderstanding you. Did you just call your FUTURE QUEEN a mud-blood?” Before he can respond she continues. “What is this? Fucking Harry Potter?” The man sniffs his nose before spitting on the ground in front of me. “She’s no future Queen of mine.” The men behind him yell out their agreement. I take a step closer to the man and give him a sinister smile. “What is your name, sir?” I bat my eyes at him.

She swallowed hard, admiring his masculine chest laced with black curly hair which travelled narrowly down his flat Tommy and then into his shorts. She had seen him shirtless on the night she allowed skin contact with her but she hadn't had a good luck at him. She glanced up at his face and saw his black curly hair looked messy,his eyes were kind of red....like he cried!. Yet,he still looked damn gorgeous. "You told me you were brave Mo..... "I thought I was" Bethel cuts in immediately, She wouldn't want her to call her Mom in his presence. "The tree has overgrown,I will make sure the branches are mended by the gardener tomorrow" Harry said.

The two of them shared each other in a manly way and Kavinsky walked in. Harry is wearing a white round-neck top and black pants, he held a cup of coffee in his left hand. He had black straight hair which made a bang in front of his face. His face is oblong and his eyes were black too. "What of your Dad?", Kavinsky asked crashing on the brown sofa. "He is at work", Harry replied sipping the coffee he held. "Aren't you going to offer me one?", Kavinsky asked referring to the coffee "Nah, am cool", Harry replied and they both laughed

I can’t move, I can’t look away. He’s not too tall, black hair long enough to fall over his eyes. There’s a beard on him when hardly any male here has one, even ones with wolves. It’s very neatly trimmed and he looks beyond grown and masculine. He’s wearing a damn leather jacket of all things, what a cliche! Goddess I bet he probably rode in on a motorcycle and doesn’t bother with a helmet. Don’t be stupid, a helmet would ruin that perfect hair! Damn him for being so gorgeous too! Ugh, that’s all I need. For someone to catch me staring. Next the bully assholes will be trying to poke out my eyes. Look away Harlow… look away.

“I’m sorry, but we don’t have any girl in this class with silver hair.” “Huh?” The word slipped out before I could stop it. I glanced back at John, then leaned forward. “My son—Harry, he’s in this class and he swears there’s a little girl with silver hair. He said she sits by the window and he even tried talking to her, but she wouldn’t respond.”

" Harvey remained silent. He knelt stiffly on the prayer cushion at Zachary's command. The electric clippers buzzed, shearing Harvey's hair into a military crop. Dark locks fell like storm clouds around him as he stared fixedly at the benevolent stone saint enshrined above—its merciful expression so unlike Leonard's eternal impassivity. Leonard existed beyond worldly concerns, neither joyful nor wrathful. And yet, he wielded thunderbolts that cowed the entire Fisher clan. Harvey's fists clenched, knuckles cracking audibly. His pitch-black eyes swirled like deadly quagmires. Beau was already shaved bald for his post-accident surgery. Now, he watched as Zachary mercilessly took the clippers to