Harry Potter M Novels & Stories

“What? “Uhm, Madam Puddifoot? From Harry Potter? In Hogsmeade Village?” “You like Harry Potter?” Jackson replies with a chuckle. “I saw the movies when I was a child, but I have not thought of them much since, I suppose.” Monica’s smile is bright as she admits, “I love them. I watch all eight movies at least once a year and lost count of how many times I have also read the books years ago. But the first time I read them was with my mom, and we both fell in love with the stories.” “Who’s your favorite? Harry?”

I barely even looked in the mirror before rushing out of our house. As I pass the windows of a dark classroom, I regret my decision to not even brush my hair—I resemble Hermione Granger in the first Harry Potter movie, with a bird's nest for hair. Mine is darker, though. I was born with the complex of a ghost and black hair to match. I'm a mess.

Tove provided a brief explanation. I snorted. Yeah, right. That wasn't possible. I didn't care what kind of magic they thought they had, there was no such thing as moving pictures. I'd seen one picture in my entire life, and it certainly hadn't moved. Unless someone thought the flames eating away at the edges counted as it ‘moving.' "We'll show you. I think Tove has the Harry Potter series," Tag said. "We can start tonight. Give everyone some time to process what's happened."

Harry's answer caught my attention. Harry talked about Sora's aura. He was the only one who could talk about it so openly without asking for anything in return. Harry was a hybrid, born with the power of a werewolf and druid mixed together in his blood. I turned around to look at him. “What do you mean? No one's aura can change. Didn't you say that when we were in the academy? You said it to her when she was convinced that she could change her aura by training hard.” I asked Harry, my tone was laced with my anger.

Again the parts of a song… I’m leaving on a jet plane I don’t know when I will be back again Oh babe I hate you go... Mrs. Hillary, who is included in the ranks of killer teachers, is not only fierce but also famous and sadistic. If Mrs. Anna math teacher is Voldemort. So Mrs. Hillary is Professor Snape in the famous School of Witchcraft and wizardry book series, because of the sadism. When a student is do something wrong, it's over. It happened one day that almost all the kid of 11-7 were expelled from class for not doing homework. The remaining 11-7 residents are only a few people like Alfred and several children who are classified as diligent in doing homework. Smart children are not nece

"Mind if I sit down?" "No, not at all." Travis walked around and sit on the bench opposite me. He took up the book that I rested on the table earlier and read the title out loud. "'Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows'." He looked up at me. "So, you like Harry Potter?" "Who doesn't?" I say with mock horror, crossing my arms in the process. He held up his palm in defence. "You're not getting any argument from me here." "Good," I said in the same playful, defensive tone.

he said but obviously, Hari thought the other boy was joking and he thus didn't take him seriously. "Ha ha ha, hurt me? How? I know you aren't trained and you don't have any weapon on you. So, pray tell, how would you have hurt me? Or are you a witch and you wanted to abracadabra me?" He said while laughing and Ravi just shook his head. "Abd... abda... what?" Ravi asked all confused because he didn't understand what Hari said. "You know, Harry Potter?" Hari said expecting Ravi to understand but he still had that confused lost look.

It was the second time I burned myself with my cup of tea. I had recently bought it when I discovered an internet store about literary articles, and I instantly fell in love with the Harry Potter-themed cup that only required the coat of arms belonging to the book when it was filled to the top by a smoking liquid. Most of the time, I just filled it with water just to have the pleasure of seeing the dark color giving way to the brightness that contained the drawing of the most famous magnificent witchcraft school in the literary world.

A loud shrieking sound came from the beast. If he wasn't angry before, he sure was now! Think Hazel, THINK! But what the fuck could I do? I was just a girl, a stupid girl waving a stick at a nightmarish beast. What could a stick do? Suddenly an idea popped into my mind. I lifted the stick higher and made sure it was directly pointed at the beast. "EXPELLIARMUS!" I shouted. But nothing happened. FUCK! This spell always worked for Harry Potter - most of the times.

Madelyn looks at me and I smile at her, making her blush. “So, what movie are we watching?” I ask taking the focus off of her. “Well, I think my mate needs to learn what it means to be a Gryffindor, don’t you?” Maeve asks. “Harry Potter it is! I’ll make the popcorn,” I say, showing Madelyn where to sit and grabbing a blanket off a chair to give to her. I don’t know if she’s still cold, but in case she is, I want to make sure she’s warm.