Harry Potter Death Eater

A blizzard erupted without warning, and the glacial mountains began to collapse. My instinct screamed at me to shift and run, to let my Inner Wolf take over and flee—but it was too late. The storm swept in, laced with a strange silver dust that hung heavy in the air. It was like an invisible chain, binding me tightly, locking away my wolf. Worse still, my strength was nearly gone. As captain of the Silvermoon Patrol, I had been out on the tundra all night. Hours ago, I had fought off a vicious ambush by Rogues, and my body still bore the wounds—deep, bleeding, and far from healed. I could feel it: my wolf energy had been pushed past its limit. Maxin, my Inner Wolf, was silent now, his strength depleted and unresponsive. My limbs were going numb, my body sinking into the snow as the roar of the wind drowned everything else out. But I wasn’t afraid. Because I knew he would come. My boyfriend—the head of the tribe's Search and Rescue Unit—had never failed a mission. I believed with all my heart that he would find me. And yet… he didn’t come himself. He sent a rookie instead, while he went after Daisy, whom he believed had been caught in an avalanche. But Daisy hadn’t been in danger at all. She merely wanted a dramatic way to confess her love to him. Three days later, Xander finally found me, buried deep beneath the frozen layers. He froze at the sight—my body, encased in ice, unmoving. He couldn’t believe it: the fierce, relentless warrior he knew, dead beneath the snow. He reached out to touch me… but the ice cracked. And before he could react, my body slipped into the depths of the glacier, vanishing into the abyss.

Trapped in a sweltering 40-degree sauna room, I overheard my older brothers talking outside. My second-oldest brother, Sean Lambert, remarked, "This kid is too stubborn. We need to teach her a lesson." My third-oldest brother, Jacob Lambert, replied, "The temperature has been adjusted. She won't die." I was locked up alone for 72 hours. It was their way of punishing me because of my stepsister. Yet, they were the ones who used to love me the most. My father was a business tycoon, my eldest brother, Axel Lambert, was skilled in finance, Sean was a legal expert, and Jacob was a medical prodigy. My mother passed away after fulfilling her mission, leaving these four men to look after me. They once showered me with love like I was their precious gem, until I turned five. That's when my stepmother and her daughter came into the picture, and I was banished to the housekeeper's room. Their attention shifted entirely to my stepsister. Whenever she cried, my father would bring out the punishment box for me to draw lots. 72 hours passed, but no one came to open the door. Before I blacked out, a few lines of small text popped up before my eyes: [The minor character is about to die. Once she dies, she can be reunited with her mother.]

On the day of my mate bond ceremony with Harry, his first love, Teresa, suddenly appeared. She tried to stop Harry and me. But Stephen, the Alpha of our pack, ordered the servants to block her outside. At the final step of the ceremony, when Harry and I were on a power stone at the bottom of a sacred cliff, Teresa fell from the sky. When we approached, she was already dead. Harry held back his tears and proceeded to complete the mate bond ceremony with me. In the following years, Harry hated me and Stephen deeply. As the Beta, he should have been Stephen’s most powerful supporter in the pack, but he took over the Alpha’s position and expelled Stephen from our pack. Stephan became a bankrupt and wandering werewolf. Harry brought different she-wolves home every night, and even took other werewolves to our bedroom while I was asleep. Until one day, Harry kidnapped Stephen and me. He brought us back to the same cliff. “Teresa jumped from here. Only one of you will live. Let’s see who will push the other down.” To his surprise, we both jumped. When I opened my eyes, I was back to the day of the mate bond ceremony. I saw Teresa was still alive and about to break into our ceremony. Stephen was standing beside me. We quickly changed looks. I shouted, “Wait a minute! Let her in.”

My husband had a heart attack on his way to work and died. All I could see was his body when I rushed to the hospital. I was heartbroken and bedridden. When I was about to die, I saw on the news that he won a lottery ticket worth 300 million dollars. My bestie cashed the prize money with him. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day when my husband faked his death. But I wanted to make his death real this time! “Are you from the funeral home? My husband is dead. We need to plan a cremation for him right away!”

I died in the year my husband hated me most. Unable to endure his endless silent treatment any longer, I swallowed a bottle of pills and ended my life. At the crematorium, watching the flames roar inside the furnace, he allowed himself a rare smile. “Someone as vile as her doesn’t deserve to be laid to rest whole.” So when the staff handed him the urn, he flipped it over. My ashes scattered across the floor in an instant. All this time, he had believed I was responsible for the death of his first love. That belief was why he had schemed and plotted for years, all for this precise moment of final desecration. When it was over, he stepped over my ashes and walked away without looking back. Though not long after that, he fell to his knees and begged the crematorium to give my ashes back to him.

When the criminal tortured me to death, I was three-month pregnant. But my husband Mark - the city's most prominent detective - was at the hospital with his first love Emma, accompanying her for her medical checkup. Three days ago, he demanded me to donate my kidney to Emma. When I refused, telling him I was two months pregnant with our child, his eyes had turned cold. "Stop lying," he had snarled. "You're just being selfish, trying to let Emma die." He pulled over on the dark highway. "Get out," he ordered. "Walk home since you're so heartless. " I stood there in the darkness and was kidnapped by the vengeful criminal, whom Mark had once imprisoned. He cut out my tongue. With cruel satisfaction, he used my phone to call my husband. Mark's response was brief and cold: "Whatever it is, Emma's medical checkup is more important! She needs me right now." The criminal let out a dark chuckle. "Well, well... Seems like the great detective values his ex's life more than his current wife's." When Mark arrived at the crime scene hours later, he was horrified by the brutality inflicted on the corpse. He angrily condemned the murderer for treating a pregnant woman so cruelly But he didn't recognize that the mutilated body before him was his own wife - me.

For ten years, my family had called me a jinx. When I was three years old, my dad claimed that he lost a major project because he had to take care of me due to my illness. My mom wanted to buy me sweets, only to end up getting hit by a car in front of a candy store. That was how she hurt her arm. My older sister, Siena Bell, often claimed that she screwed up in her tests simply because I kept breaking her pens. One day, my mom invited a shaman named Mr. Reyes over. After inspecting the house, he contemplated for a while. "This child is affiliated with misfortune by nature. She's a walking jinx who absorbs the entire family's luck." He then added, "But if she has a life of misfortune, you will regain your luck." At first, I felt aggrieved and tried to fight back by throwing tantrums. I tugged at my mom's sleeve while arguing loudly, "I'm not a jinx!" But my mom just looked at me calmly. There was a hint of eerie calmness in her eyes. She said, "Mr. Reyes said that you have to accept your fate. Someone has to bear the sacrifices no matter what." Her icy words doused out the hope in my heart. In a way, this twisted dynamic actually worked. My dad's business went steady, whereas Siena started getting better grades. At one point, I even started thinking that I was a real jinx. But… why was it that my family was haunted by more misfortune after my death?

"Selene, your bloodline is too lowly. You don't deserve to be a Luna! You must let your Alpha mark his sister-in-law!" My mother-in-law despises me because I'm a lowly Omega. When my mate's brother dies in an accident, my mother-in-law wants me to allow my mate, Eugene Latham, to have pups with his sister-in-law, Kristy Unwin, because of her superior bloodline. Otherwise, Eugene will lose his right to become Alpha! Eugene wraps his arms around me tenderly and says, "You're the only one in my heart, but you need to understand that the pack can't go without an Alpha. I'll announce to everyone that you're my Luna once Kristy's pregnant and I become Alpha, okay?" I love him deeply, so I believe him. However, when Eugene goes from sleeping with Kristy once a month to sleeping with me once a month, I realize he's no longer a mate who belonged to me alone. When Kristy announces that she's pregnant and that she and Eugene are going to get married, I'm the only one who's kept in the dark. My heart shatters into pieces when I see the glimmering Luna's ring on her finger. If this is what Eugene wants, I'll fake my death and leave him. I won't ever return.

When my brother Beau Campbell and I drowned together at the age of four, I was the only one who survived. From that day on, my mother came to loathe me. She would often creep into my room at night with colorful "candies" in her hand, trying to pry open my mouth. However, Dad always stopped her just in time. Later, I cut off my long hair and threw away all my dresses, desperately trying to become Beau's shadow. Only then would Mom spare me a glance. Three years passed, and Mom got pregnant again. She said it was Beau coming back to us. I was happy for her and told myself it was good that Beau was back. After all, it also meant this family no longer needed the stand-in who had lived in his place. So, I found the same "candies" Mom once tried to force into my mouth, and I quietly swallowed them.

I'm cursed with the most deadly spell of the werewolf pack—leaving me with only a month left to live. However, no one in my family knows about this. Ever since they'd adopted Natali Fisher, an orphan who greatly resembles my older sister, they've poured all their love and attention into her—and stopped caring about me. And at that very moment, I'm curled up in a corner of the woodshed, with blood steadily dripping from the corners of my lips. Dad, Mom, and my older brother, Kent Greene, probably think that I'm throwing another tantrum and am deliberately hiding from them. But that isn't the case this time. They are currently outside cooking Natali's favorite mushroom soup in the courtyard. Their happy laughter fills the air, painting the picture of a warm, loving family. Maybe I could even believe this is a happy family if I weren't about to die soon.