Harry Potter Broken Glasses Novels & Stories

"No! No!! It can't be! Elliot should never smile! He should never find peace. No!!!" I destroyed everything in sight in the room. My potions, my wands, my spell books... everything was scattered on the floor and mixed up. When there was nothing else left to throw I threw the crystal ball that showed the horrifying image on the floor. It broke into two but united itself back. I span with rage and tried my very best to destroy the ball but it kept rejoining. I couldn't stay in there anymore so I ran out of the secret chamber, concealing it and rushed outside of the room.

Glass jars shattered from the impact as the volatile brew before her vanished without a trace, taking the danger with it. ‘Jayden! What the hell were you thinking?! You could have blown us all to kingdom come!’ her aunt chastised, but the words went over her head as she stared in shock at the cauldron that had once been spurting a hideous vomit-colored substance now stood empty, seeming as if she’d never created such a concoction. Her heart was hammering against her ribcage, and her limbs felt like jelly as she slipped onto the floor still covered in all sorts of potion ingredients and shattered glass fragments that bit into her knees and palms as she attempted to catch herself.

“She might not have the body that you do, but she’s not a slut. She still has track of her body count, unlike you.” “Please leave.” “What the fuck!” I snapped. “You know what? If you don’t want me, I’d get her to leave you,” I sneered. “Look there.” I glanced towards the door. “You see it, huh?” I said, letting a sly grin spread across my face. “Yes, I got all this on recording, and these glasses aren’t ordinary,” I whispered, removing the glasses. “See, it has a camera. It’s a meta glass, sweetheart .”

The noise of the world faded into the background, replaced only by the sound of my own heartbeat pounding in my ears. "There is nothing left of you," I whispered to myself, the drugs intensifying the darkness within. "There's nothing left for the demon to take from me. I'm nothing." The words echoed in my mind, a bleak mantra that had become my twisted reality. I had become a broken vessel, shattered and discarded, just like the windows of my soul.

Finally, I feel their soothing power take effect. “Fuck I feel like The Half-blood Prince made this shit.” Once that eye is good, I switch to the other. It doesn’t hurt nearly as much since I didn’t rub it, but I still put the drops in it. Then I grab my glasses. And put them one, and before you ask yes, they are in fact very Potter like. Only they are thin wire circles rather than the thick plastic Harry were. My fall more than him and I don’t have a wand or magic spell to fix them. So, wire was needed.

“It's clean and not poison. You need it for some strength. We don't want you dead as of yet.” I held the glass with my shaky hands and in an instant the glass fell to the floor shattering to pieces. I gasped and heard the man hiss out. “Damn woman. I told you the glass isn't poisoned but you didn't believe me and now you've broken one of my favorite glasses.”

My frustration builds, rising and rising until my carefully maintained control finally cracks. The crystal glass leaves my hand, and I watch as it shatters against the wall, brown liquid coloring my white walls. I’m losing my goddamn mind. Crouching to collect the scattered glass, I replay every conversation from that afternoon for the hundredth time. The questions about her morning routine with Harry had made her smile. But when I asked about her childhood, about her father... The sharp edge of a jagged glass bites into my thumb, and I watch as blood pools before the wound begins healing almost immediately—werewolf metabolism working overtime to repair the damage.

Instead, the little bastard had resisted it like it was child’s play. Worse, he had the nerve to refuse me. I’d underestimated the boy’s new moral compass, probably a side effect of whatever therapy he’d gotten to scrape off the Brightclaw rot. I stalked across the room and yanked my briefcase onto the bed, throwing it open. My heart sank when I saw the shattered orb at the bottom. “No, no, no.” I picked up the broken crystal, turning it in my palm. Hairline cracks zigzagged across the surface like veins of rot. The glow it once held was gone. Thin filaments of magic curling into the air like dying smoke.

Because based on his advices, he seems to be an expert in the problem I am facing. "I don't think you can win her back. Remember this Del Mundo, not everything that breaks is restored. Cianna's fragile, and you know that fragile should be handled with care because once it's broken, it can't be repaired. Glasses, vases and other fragile materials—ike this. . ." "What the h*ll!" I screamed after he dropped the glass he was holding. "Look at that glass, I broke it. Now, let me fix it." He knelt down to pick up the broken pieces of glass one by one.

The golden arrows on the dark brown old clock in the cream colored office seemed to mock her. She had been staring at them for over ten minutes and it felt like they had not changed a bit. She started to look around the office for something else to distract her. The only none expensive thing in this office was the dark mahogany desk she had had shipped in six months ago after the old one had completely broken under weight of heavy files. She turned to the right and saw the blue crystal ball she had gotten him a long time ago. It made the room a little more lively.