Harry Potter Roleplay Novels & Stories

I was now going to take my magic test and, finally, see if I could get my magical license. If Harry Potter could do it then so could I! So, I took a breath and prepared to jump into the magic trial. First, it was a paper test, which was never fun. Then you had to show you knew the spells you had been practicing. Finally, a potions test. I truly feel like I had stepped into Hogwarts or something. During a brief break between trials, I nearly did make a joke about it but didn’t think it was going to go over well so I stopped myself

I said, which made Cyrus’ eyes grow wide. “You’ve actually seen Harry fucking Potter?!” “I’ve read it. I have kids and grandkids. I need to know the things they know. Besides, even though the author was a dumbass, it’s a pretty cool story.” Cyrus nodded, “it is, right?” He winked at me. “But don’t fucking worry. I’ll die first, so I’ll let you know what it’s like.” “Don’t make jokes about that!” April said, slapping Cyrus’ arm, who pretended to be more hurt than he actually was.

Coincidentally, the guy next to me was the same person I asked for information before the classes began. Harry, that was his name. I knew that because we were in the same class. He was focused on his phone, playing an RPG-style game. His skillful fingers moved quickly on the screen, demonstrating his expertise in the game. "You're really good, Harry," I started a conversation, trying to be friendly. He looked at me for a split second, just like the first time we met, paying more attention to the game than the conversation. Maybe he didn't even remember my face.

If I were to decide, I don't want to speak anymore. But I have to ride on his trip. "Right... how about we shower him?" I asked. "Great!" "Oh, may I use the controller?" I asked again, trying to provoke him. He just smiled. "Of course, you can! Why not?" he said. I smiled creepily. His trust in me is so satisfying. It feels like Harry wanted to build his own "POU"-like game. He's infiltrating the animal world. What the fuck just happened to his mind?

After parting the curtain a little in an unnoticeable manner, Harry peeped to see if he could recognise anyone. At first, all he could see were three teenage boys in a hoodie. Later when he began to pick words from the conversation, he realised there was only a masculine in the trio; the others appeared to be feminine. This was vindicated when one pulled her hoodie off her head, and shaked her hair. It was a short bub, and Harry couldn't remember where he'd seen this person, but he was sure the face was familiar — he just couldn't place it right.

His eyes reminded me of a puppy. I smiled. "Yeah, for like, two hours." "Then how many hours does a guy need to get your number?" He was still looking at me, the moonlight shone on his face, making it harder for me to tell him that he'd never get my number. "Mey, what does it take for a guy to get your number?" "You tell me the three unforgivable spells in Harry Potter." He fished out his cell phone, probably going to Google it up, so I quickly added, "by reading the book, without searching the Internet, and I'd give you my number."

Milo and Jax are silent for a long time after I finish talking. Rhea is too, but somehow in a completely different way. While she sits there with her hands in her lap, twiddling her thumbs with the guilt of knowledge, the other two gape at me openly, as if trying to decide whether or not I am playing some sort of sick, practical joke on them. The longer they look at me, the more I feel like I am shrinking, and the more I want to melt into the cracks of the couch cushions beneath me. In my mind briefly flickers the image of Horace Slughorn from the sixth Harry Potter, and in that moment, I too wish I can transform into a piece of furniture to flee from my accountabilities, nondescript and gui

It’s dangerous yet I find myself wanting those captivating eyes to never look away. It frightens me to my core and I panic. “My real name is Harry and I come from a hidden world known as Hogwarts. My grandmother is Gandalf.” I sound stupid, I’m so stupid. The fumbling words leave my mouth before I can control them. I expect confusion from him, or maybe he’d look at me like I am some weirdo, but…he laughs. He laughs out freely. The laughter stems deep from within him, rich with real cheerfulness. As always, I’m entranced by it. The wind picks up the sound fast, playing it in the air.

So, I reluctantly handed the task of dealing with Roy over to Harry and walked over to the bar to pour myself a drink straight from the bottle. Harry approached Roy, whose leg had now completely disappeared. Taking up a blade previously used by Peter, Harry aimed directly at Roy's neck, preparing to sever his head without giving him a chance to wait for death. Ethan, as an extra precaution, set up a protective barrier to prevent Roy from escaping, though the likelihood of that happening was slim to none at this point because Roy had exhausted all his strength enduring the pain caused by the magic potion, and now he lay helpless, allowing Harry to proceed with the execution.

The double date had not been a bad idea after all. “Let’s play a telepathy game,” Harry said when we finished our meal. We still had some time before we had to head over to the school. “Sure,” Harper said, “how do you play it?” “I’ll mention two things, and on the count of three everyone has to pick one of them. The two people who pick the most things together have the best telepathy.” “Great,” Harper said, looking over at me. I looked back at her. We were so going to crush them.