Harry Potter Fanfiction Harry Is An Artist Novels & Stories

Harry thought. Harry felt a sharp pain, after realizing the whole truth. He turned to face Arthur with his hard glare. "My words remain the same! I will never change them! This slut of a woman, would never get to see her son again. And you who claim to be her baby's daddy, I would advise you don't even make an attempt to get the kid away from me otherwise I will kill you and feed your flesh to the ravens." Harry said with his eyes directly at Arthur, who only looked for a few seconds and eventually moved his eyes away from him. Harry's look was so impossible to behold. Harrh looked like a beast that would cause havoc on earth.

, he flashed him a smile. “But I can’t”, Eric thought to himself. “You can grab something from my clothes”, Harry said, taking off his sweatshirt, “I see we have the same size”. Eric looked away as soon as Harry’s abs appeared before his eyes. He cleared his throat and looked for the dressing room. It was only his first day, and Harry was already being a nuance. What do you think of the 1st chapter? What do you think of Harry’s character so far? How is that clubbing going to go?

"That's right! We want you to be an independent heroine of your own story!" "Madam, your loyal servant has finally arrived! Do you need an assistant? I can do anything, and whatever I can't, I'll learn. Please hire me!" "Harry said he wants to wear sibling outfits with you. Can't you grant his wish?" "I believe Harry will be a sister-obsessed man in the future. Just look at how eager he gets every time he's around Giselle. It's unbearable to watch." "I'm not the only one who noticed? He definitely has attention-seeker potential."

While Ian leaned against the wall for support, the phone in his hand started ringing again. I cast a glance at the screen, and it was a call from Harry. Harry was a genius painter who loved beautiful colors. Four days ago, I found an extremely rare red paint specially for him. I knew he would love the paint the second he saw it. I just did not expect that I would be dead before Harry could receive the surprise from me. When Ian picked up the call, Harry's tone had softened noticeably.

Havermouth, Present Time Harry had done a lot of things in their time as vampire. They had travelled widely and lived decadently. They enjoyed beautiful things and considered themselves to be one of them. They had always taken care of themselves and revelled in the admiration of others. Consequently, they had been a muse for several successful, and sometimes unsuccessful, artists, and got a thrill when they visited art galleries and found their own image staring back down at them, although they knew that if Talen and Sigrid ever learnt of it, they would chastise them for their carelessness.

He didn't know why but being there with just Charlene and Harry made him feel safer, happier and peaceful. “Harry, do you want to do something fun?” He started and Harry quickly nodded, turning to him. “Since you're such a good artist, why don't you paint a picture of mum and dad? If you do it well enough, I'll buy you a spiderman action figure.” Harry gasped and immediately ran to his room, shutting the door. “Nobody look until I'm done!” “What was that about?” Charlene giggled. “I just wanted to get you to myself for a couple of minutes.” He sighed, taking her hand and leading her into the second bedroom. Charlene followed him without uttering a single word, her heart slamming against her

I feel a sudden grip on my shoulder and whirl around, only to see Harry, my friend standing behind me, the lights behind him casting shadows across his face. “You’re doing a terrible job at wooing her my friend. She looks bored to death.” He whispers as his eyes trail back up towards where Emma sits. I should gouge them out for that. I met Harry at an art exhibition. With our mutual interest in art and of course women, we hit it off almost immediately. Now, we’re drinking buddies. And I owe it to him that I’ve been able to make it back home on many nights. Lord knows I would either have gotten robbed, arrested or kidnapped on many nights already.

Naomi. Harry’s daughter was seventeen now, bright, talented, restless. She had inherited her mother’s expressive eyes and Harry’s stubborn jawline. Usually, she hovered near the stage during rehearsals, sketchbook in hand, drawing musicians as they tuned their instruments or capturing dancers mid-motion. Harry encouraged it, happy she had found her own language in art. But lately, he had noticed something new. That boy. Marcus Jameson. Sixteen, lanky but with a confidence that didn’t quite fit his frame, always hanging around with the volunteer crew. He had a smile too wide and eyes too curious, and Harry had caught him looking at Naomi more than once. Worse, Naomi had started smiling back.

“How do you even come up with these things?” Harry grinned proudly, leaning back in his chair. “It’s a gift, really. I consider myself a prank prodigy.” “Prodigy or not, you’re going to get expelled one of these days,” Lucas said, his voice light but laced with warning. “And I'm not going to help you this time if anything happened.” “This time?!” I questioned and Harry snorted, shrugging his shoulders. Next, he waved Lucas off. “Nah, they love me. Besides, someone’s got to keep things interesting.”

’, her mind screamed ‘May I come in, please’, he asked sweetly cocking an eyebrow. Harry had a job on his hands right now that if he didn’t do right could land him in jail. Despite his activities, he’d never smelt a hellhole not minding the fact that Captain Lassair always checked him out when he had the time. He could bet his ball the captain had a thing for him but unfortunately, he ain’t no fairy and chose to remain that way.