Harry Potter Fanfiction Harry Stops Holding Back His Magic Novels & Stories

I said to Harry who was panting heavily behind me. I could tell he was very tired from how lazily he was dragging his feet from behind me. If his legs were tired, his mouth seems not to share from that tiredness as he has been talking none stop. I was beginning to regret the decision of allowing him to come with me. His backpack was filled to the brim like one going on a long vacation. “I will need most of the things in my bag for casting and breaking spells,” he said while trying to catch his breath.

"For you to go to my territory. "You are not a monster" I said because I felt it... I have the ability to know if a creature is a monster based on their energy. It only failed with that girl because I couldn't feel any energy coming from her. "That's true because I'm a Mage— a sorcerer," the old man replied, who was pulled back by my soldiers. Because people are more afraid of witches. The mage has the power like a god... but has the heart of a demon. I immediately pointed the blade of my weapon at the old mage "Then it's not our god you worship..." I shouted then quickly attacked but someone blocked my sword... the girl with orange eyes, like a lightning flaming weapon suddenly appeared in

SELENE POV I had all but given up trying to free myself from Tor's iron grip by the time he strode back into the settlement with me slung over his shoulder like some type of trophy. It was times like these that I wished my magical abilities went beyond healing and defensive spells as I fantasized about the h*ll I would unleash on this arrogant b*stard with his superiority complex. I was brought out of my fantasies when I noticed people in the village streets were stopping to stare at the spectacle of me being hauled like a bag of grain. Unable to stand one more moment of this embarrassment, I conceded.

His mind is elsewhere. After a few seconds, his eyes narrow and his features sharpen. He exhales sharply. "Harry, what are you going to do?" I ask him. "Stop the music!" He barks out loud, and everything changes.

The tunic he’s wearing leaves half of his chest bare, making me want to run my hands all over the hard planes of his chest sprinkled with coarse hair. Shaking my head, I stare into the fire. “I don’t want to be mad at you. But promise me you won’t pull a stunt like that again.” He strokes my hair and drops a kiss on top of my head. The gentleness in the gesture makes me feel warm on the inside. “I won’t. I’m sorry. Truly.” “Apology accepted. So anyway, I realized that I can do a lot more with my magic when I managed to not just clean the privy, but leave spells in place that would ensure it remains clean always.”

“Let’s train. But this time, stop holding back. Don’t be afraid.” “I’m not afraid,” I said, stepping into the circle. “Yes, you are,” he replied. “You’re afraid of hurting people. Of what your magic can do. What Slade wants from you. Of who you’re becoming.” That last part hit me hard. He lifted his hands, ready to spar. “Come at me.” I hesitated. “You sure? You might regret it.” He gave a small smile. “I won’t.” I took a deep breath, letting the magic rise just a little. It curled through my body like fire, fast and hot. My heart pounded.

She looked at the tea Harper had left on the counter and drank it this time. “I’m ready,” she said. “Let’s train.” We started in the backyard, boots crunching over frost. Harper drew runes into the snow with bloodroot ink, her breath fogging in the cold. “These will help contain your magic,” she said, motioning for June to stand inside the circle. “What if I break through them?” Harper met her eyes. “Then we try again tomorrow.” June closed her eyes. When she opened them, her energy spiked like lightening through the air. Her speed was blinding.

The heat from his chest pressed against my back, steadying my racing heart. His words were the catalyst. My magic rushed to my fingers, and I nodded once before I whispered the spell I needed to hold the ceiling at bay. “Ictor hedlin hor neflin bak co fash.” My magic raced through the cracks like water. It flowed upwards, and I felt the tendrils weaving a net to hold back the rocks. I could feel how unsteady it was, and my mouth grew dry. There was no way I was going to be able to do this.

I can lock blood in a body, stop a heart from bursting, make a stone remember what shape it used to be. I don’t do it often. Magic remembers how you treat it. I train until sweat slicks my spine and my hands shake—not from exhaustion, but restraint. The magic hates being caged. It presses against my skin, whispering options I don’t want to hear. What if you didn’t stop? What if you took more? What if you let them see? I light a cigarette between drills, smoke grounding me when Maereth isn’t looking. She always knows. “You rely on crutches,” she says.

He initially cast the spell to end Persephone but couldn’t and stopped its effect, changing it to stealing magic from stealing souls so she couldn't fight anymore and stay still. “Stay here. It will be over before you know it.” He whispered temptingly in her ears, caressing her cheeks, curling his lips upwards but it only augmented her ache. He used his emotions to distract her mind and lessen the intensity of her fire. Her anger was making it wild but he stopped it and now imprisoned her magic power, sucking it, holding her. “You fucking asshole. How dare you.” She snarled, trying to move or use her magic to stop him but to no avail, the circle was absorbing her magic and those hands restri