Harry Potter Characters Drawing Novels & Stories

“Wands, batons, clubs, and staves. The artisans with their symbolism and character of having the utmost creativity and will.” Almost cracking a laugh with excitement and trill that he couldn’t wait to see and bring forth to the last and final loop. He just draws a cunning smile, thinking about those people, the characters, and their role to be played, when the book of Dylan opens. “Why not?” Giggling once more, the list of those people is now written in front of him. Looking, observing, and all in his amusing world. The following are written. “NATE FIGURER.”

emitted Cynthia, " I love reading books and am a big potter head. I love the whole series," said Ada " Oh my god one more common thing again am a potter head too," said Cynthia. " Great am a huff puff and you ?" interrogated Ada " UMMM ...so meet your Ravenclaw friend Ada and who do you crush on," replied Cynthia " Of course Neville Longbottom and whom do you admire," said Ada. " No doubt Draco for life ... By the way good choice."

She has drawn constantly since she could hold a crayon, pages and pages of the specific focused artwork of a child who has something to say and has found the medium for saying it. I pick up the pad. Look at the open page. Three small figures in a row, clearly Ace and Grey and Willa, their individual identities legible even in toddler rendering. Ace is drawn largest and loudest, arms out wide. Grey is neat and careful. Willa has drawn herself with her rabbit. And beside them, slightly apart, a tall figure. A man. She has drawn him with careful deliberate strokes, more care than the rest, and above his head in her best attempt at letters, she has written three characters.

In the end, I think they turned out great. Not that I knew what the others were for but there was also a frog on a log, a humming bird and a fat Cardinal. The very last one I was drawing was for Arlo. He got those picture for us, or more for me. It was of a wolf. It’s head was downward with his teeth showing. The hair was standing straight up with a human skull under it’s paw. There wasn’t any flesh on it, just the bones. Originally, I was going to make it a dead rabbit or something but this seemed appropriate. Keeping this one black and white, kept some of the mystery alive. “Charlotte??” Waylon yelled as he was coming in.

"Then can you describe to us what Harry's usual character is?" "Character?" The middle-aged woman's tone was obviously a little dismissive. "He's just a hooligan ruffian, he has no character, he doesn't do anything serious all day long, and he is proficient in eating, drinking, prostitution and gambling." "You're saying he has a habit of prostitution and gambling?" "Yes, of course there is, and their family is being collected by loan sharks, and the walls are covered with paint, and the whole building is disturbed." The middle-aged woman's tone was filled with disgust.

My skin tingled with excitement at the thought of Harry's hands roaming over my curves, stripping away the flimsy lace. Reaching the seventh floor corridor, I paused outside the Room of Requirement, taking a deep breath to steady my nerves. Then, with a trembling hand, I knocked three times. The door swung open and there he stood - Harry Potter himself, glasses glinting in the candlelight. His black hair was messier than usual, like he'd run his fingers through it a hundred times. The white shirt hugged his lean chest and his dark jeans clung to his hips. He was gorgeous.

Natalie No, back then and right now, I'm still thinking about Jaxon. How amazing he's been with Harry, how patient and kind, and how I'm getting dangerously used to having around. "Mommy!" Harry's voice cuts through my spiral of panic as he bounces out of the house, clutching a piece of drawing paper covered in crayon scribbles. "Look what I drew!" I glance down at his artwork. They are stick figures that are clearly meant to be me, Freda, himself, and...a much taller figure with dark hair.