Harry Potter Broken Glasses Novels & Stories

Just a sudden urge to look inside. At first, everything looks normal to me. Towels made of paper. Ground coffee. A serviette that is folded. After that, the light changes. It gets caught in the glass. My breath leaves me in a sharp rush. Broken pieces are wrapped in a towel. The jagged edges are dull from care but still very clear. A glass of wine. Or what's left of one. The stem broke in half. The bowl broke into pieces that weren't even. My stomach hurts.

He’s trying to make me fall for him so he could have eternal life. “That Jerk is such a user,” I murmured. “User?” I jumped in panic when someone tapped my shoulder. My back bumped on the shelf and the unbothered, shining, smooth glass broke the silence. The next thing we know, broken pieces of glass scattered all over the floor. My mouth flung open while looking at Kylo. Her eyes shifted from me to the floor. She was holding a thick book. “What did you do?” I mouthed with eyes wide opened.

It looks like one of his highball glasses fell and broke, dark brown liquor spilling across the hardwood. He’s picking up shards of glass, and he doesn’t see me. I almost go to him and offer to help, but for some reason, I don’t. Rather, I watch covertly from around the corner as he picks up the shards, shaking his head and muttering under his breath. I can’t quite make out what he’s saying aside from a curse word here or there, but he sounds frustrated. And his hands are shaking ever so slightly, which is strange for him.

The chairs and wardrobe pushed aside to accommodate its thick gilded frame; a large mirror had been propped against the bedroom wall. Ancient symbols scrawled over its reflective surface, it hummed with the lines of a spell that was being spoken in a long dead tongue. The glass beginning to reverberate from the collective force of the enchantment, it shuddered violently in the confines of its wooden support for some time. A faint ringing eventually heard emerging from the mirror. It was abruptly followed by the harsh pang of cracks forming across its surface.

The torches dimmed, their flames curling inward like they were afraid. And then, silence. Not empty silence. Anticipation. A ripple passed through the chamber, and from the darkness at the end, a figure came in. Harry. His silver eyes shone, not with amusement this time, but with fury. He looked at the circle,at the shattered vial, at the fading glow of the runes. And, slowly, his eyes landed on me. “You broke it,” he said, his voice low and dangerous. “You dared.” I didn’t move. “I’m not yours.”

It was the same thing that happened. Him staring at the broken glass... trying so hard to breathe. Then I clocked it.He had a thing for broken glasses.

But to Adrian, it probably meant something. My fingers tightened. I thought about Leo. About the scar under my shirt. About Marcus saying I was getting too close, losing focus. About Aurora Winters dying alone on a bedroom floor. My hand opened. The glass fell. It hit the hardwood with a crack that split the silence. Crystal exploded. Shards scattered across the floor, glittering like diamonds. I stood there. Staring at the destruction. A laugh bubbled up. Small at first. Then bigger. I had broken his glass. His special, precious glass.

“No!” The glass broke.

It crashed to the ground, shattering into a thousand pieces. The sound of broken glasses filled the entire room and that was when I was brought back to reality as I watched the liquid on the floor, as well as the glass, lay in a thousand pieces on the ground, each shard glistening like a tiny mirror. “I… I'm sorry.” I quickly went on my knees, my trembling limbs reaching out to the glass, but before I could touch it, a hand stopped me and when I looked up my eyes met with green eyes showing concern for me as his soothing hands calmed my nerves a bit, but it didn't wash away my entire fear because the man from my past was still there seated a mile away from me his eyes on me as if he has foun

Her eyes flicker again—from black to blue—and her grin widens. Then, without hesitation, she smashes the mirror on the floor. Glass explodes across the stone tiles, fragments catching the dim light like shattered stars. “Oops,” she says, mockingly. Sonia and I barely have time to react before she hurls the potion down next. It lands with a sickening thud, the vial cracking open on impact. The liquid spreads across the broken glass—thick, irreplaceable. Gone. My stomach twists violently. I didn’t see that coming.