Harry Potter Profiles Novels & Stories

I said, trying to convince her and myself too. She looked at me as if checking me out so I diverted my gaze, trying to focus my attention to Professor Esquerra. Prof. Jeremy Esquerra is also a good-looking guy like Prof. Trystan Fortez. Both of them are also good friends. Prof. Esquerra is our school doctor. He smiles often and more approachable than Prof. Fortez but I still find the latter more attractive. I am wondering why Professor Fortez is not yet here.

“What is this?” “Do you watch the series called harry potter?” He asked, and when still don’t get it, he explained, “You know, some fantasy that humans made about us supernaturals.” He then pointed at his little gift, “That character is named Remus Lupin, the werewolf there.” I nodded my head, looking at the little human that transforms into a wolf keychain type. “And? What should I do with this?” I asked again. “I hope you’ll keep it.” He trailed off, his tone narrowing but then he cleared his throat, “Are you happy today? Did I somehow convince you that I’m serious?”

The two of them shared each other in a manly way and Kavinsky walked in. Harry is wearing a white round-neck top and black pants, he held a cup of coffee in his left hand. He had black straight hair which made a bang in front of his face. His face is oblong and his eyes were black too. "What of your Dad?", Kavinsky asked crashing on the brown sofa. "He is at work", Harry replied sipping the coffee he held. "Aren't you going to offer me one?", Kavinsky asked referring to the coffee "Nah, am cool", Harry replied and they both laughed

“I’m sorry, but we don’t have any girl in this class with silver hair.” “Huh?” The word slipped out before I could stop it. I glanced back at John, then leaned forward. “My son—Harry, he’s in this class and he swears there’s a little girl with silver hair. He said she sits by the window and he even tried talking to her, but she wouldn’t respond.”

He calmly said like I was talking to someone with no emotions. "What? I am fighting for that girl...I mean...what if...just what if your friend finds out? You were meant to take care of her not fuck her" I announced on top of my lungs and Harry leans back to his chair. He looked like someone in his savage era totally looking at me like I have lost it. "I intend to make her mine..." He hadn't complete his statement when my hand pushed the cabbage in my hand inside his mouth. "You're a Pedophile"

Then back at her. Absolutely not. Harry was my younger cousin. Twenty-three. Rich, reckless, and had the attention span of a goldfish. He’d been kicked out of two colleges for fighting, and last I heard he was “investing” in crypto by day and racing motorcycles by night. He flirted with anything that breathed and left a trail of crying girls behind him. And Shula, my Shula, who blushed at the word ‘virgin’, was practically vibrating at the sound of his name.

Finally, he let out a deep sigh. “ Okay, I know you might have noticed he's been acting strangely, and I think it's time I explained what's going on." He said “Yeah, I've been really confused. Some hours ago, he was sweet and kind, and the now, he's... terrifying." I said “I understand why you'd find it confusing. The thing is, Harry has what's called dissociative identity disorder. He has two distinct personalities: one is gentle and caring, while the other is... darker." He finally said and my eyes widened

The student's eyes lowered to the name of the professor for the course. Theodore Ashford, PhD Department of Psychology Professor & Dean for College of Social Sciences Isa let her hands glide over her keyboard for a quick G****e search. Something had to be off for a class like this to not be full yet. What she found was a world-renowned psychologist with dozens of publications, two uploaded TedTalks, a New York Times interview, and... To say the professor was just hot would be much less an understatement than a blatant insult. Through just the aggregates of pixels on her screen, Isa could sense the poise and presence the man carried with him. And, God, was the man attractive.

My skin tingled with excitement at the thought of Harry's hands roaming over my curves, stripping away the flimsy lace. Reaching the seventh floor corridor, I paused outside the Room of Requirement, taking a deep breath to steady my nerves. Then, with a trembling hand, I knocked three times. The door swung open and there he stood - Harry Potter himself, glasses glinting in the candlelight. His black hair was messier than usual, like he'd run his fingers through it a hundred times. The white shirt hugged his lean chest and his dark jeans clung to his hips. He was gorgeous.