Harry Potter Macmillan Novels & Stories

Sir Harry was a man in his forties, with dark brown hair and a padlock-shaped beard, his eyes were black as night, but if you looked closely you could see the goodness in them; The man entered the Winchesters' drawing room where Lady Elizabeth and Sir Jones were waiting. Good evening, I am Harry Macmillan and I have come to lend my support in finding the midnight killer ...

The more you care, the more you have to loose. ~Harry Potter, Order of Phoenix •• Noor wasn't sure if she wanted to be annoyed, angry, happy or disappointed. The flirty playful guy she had met twice on accident was actually the Mr. Umar Lukuwa she was supposed to meet.

But her excitement and conviction made me believe that it was real. "Wait, so there are actually people with magical powers?" I asked, trying to wrap my head around this new information. "Yes, and it's not just limited to humans. There are also fantastic creatures like dragons, unicorns, and even talking paintings," She replied, her eyes sparkling with wonder. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. It sounded like a world full of endless possibilities and adventure. "And the best part is, Harry Potter, the famous wizard, goes to Hogwarts too. He's the chosen one, destined to defeat the dark wizard, Lord Voldemort," Renee continued, her voice filled with excitement.

Most of the books had scribbles but I really didn't mind as long as I could read. Something caught my eye behind a stack of Enid Blyton's books on the upper shelf. Something shiny. I wheeled back, trying to get a good look at the mysterious cover. Holy. Macaroni. Was that Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban? I just had to get that book.

He was looking at me with amusement dancing in his eyes. Millie held my hand, “Aunt Selena told me about the prince you like. Is he the one, mommy?” I took another mouthful of air and smiled at Millie, “Sweetie, this is Harry…” I licked my bottom lip and slowly faced Harry. “Harry, this is Millie, my daughter.” Harry smiled and lifted his hand, showing a red cloth. He did some tricks until the cloth became a red rose and Millie clapped in amusement. “A magic!” Millie screamed excitedly. “Mommy, he can do magic!”

Bruce asks me. I shake my head. "I could use a ride if you don't mind. I am not sure I am ready to drive today," I say. I know I am not ready to drive. "I can take you, but first, I have to tell you something. I made some calls while you were sorting through some things. I wanted to give you some space. I found both of your uncles. They own a little magic shop in New Orleans. It is called Elemental Magic," Bruce says.

I roll my eyes and elbow Bellamy in the ribs. “Sure.” Harry answers, waving around his right hand which is still clutching what I can now see is a shiny glass bottle full of something purple. “Incubi delivery service. Where we always deliver the whole package.” He says with a wink. I groan. “That was terrible Harry.” I complain. “I could try another one. You would be surprised how many lines I can come up with using the word ‘package.’ Harry offers. “Please don’t” Bellamy says dryly.

Well, it was a good thing I already know the story, I have read it about a hundred or more times. Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban. What could be better than all the fantasy, action and thriller all in once? Trying to concentrate onto the words of the book and let my imagination disrupt my thoughts, I didn't even realise I managed to walk straight into something hard and strong. I gasped as I was almost knocked out off balance.

"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.

― Albus Dumbledore, Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire M E Y W A N G | The Asian Potterhead "I am not your friend, Hunter. I do not think we could ever be friends considering the only reason I made acquaintances with you is so that I could use you." This was not what I had planned to say to him but since the words had come out, there was no point in taking them back. I hated to see the pain reflected in his dark eyes, how his smile faltered until it was gone without a trace.