Harry Potter Scared Novels & Stories

As another guard lunged toward me, I raised my hand on instinct. A blast of heat surged outward, hurling him back before he even touched me. The crowd gasped. I didn’t. I stared at my hands, then at Harry—who now looked at me with something that hadn’t been there before. Not just hate. But fear. “You think you’ve won?” Harry bellowed from the podium, now flanked by his personal guards. “You’re both abominations! Curses on this earth!” His voice trembled—not with passion but with the realization that the things he feared most were no longer in chains. Ryu’s growl echoed beside me as he returned, bloodied but undefeated. “No, Harry,” I said, my voice rising above the madness.

Well, we must combat this, I said finally. Harriet gazed up at me in alarm. "Yeah, sure," she said. Her voice was little, but solid, as it was too solid to belong to a child. I ceased to pace and turned to her. "Harriet—" No, no, no, she said, wrapping herself up. "He scares me. I felt him before. His pain feels like claws. And when he gets mad, it burns." My chest tightened. I crouched in front of her. I would never expose you to danger. Never."

We were all just standing there, thirty strangers in some dramatic-looking grand hall. Then came the crying. "Waaah... this place is so scary. I wanna go home." Scary? Could've fooled me. Thanks to my perception disorder, my brain airbrushes reality. The grosser something is, the prettier it looks. So to me? This place felt like a cozy Airbnb. Meanwhile, some cranky knight-looking dude threw punches at the shadows. "Quit hiding and fight me, coward!" While most people were busy freaking out, two stepped forward—chill and confident.

Walter Hallas, a 26-year-old store clerk in Leeds, England, was so afraid of dentists that in 1979 he asked a friend to try to cure his toothache by knocking out the offending molar with a punch to the jaw. The punch caused him to fall down, hitting his hard, and he died of a fractured skull. I don't own any of this stories. I found them in some creepy books. I'm thinking of writing my own scary stories, but not anytime soon.

His body started trembling, and he was utterly terrified. Linda inched closer to Scar Number One. Seeing how Linda was approaching him, Scar Number One felt as if an evil spirit was about to take his life away. "Don't come near me. Ah! Ah!" Before Linda could step toward him, Scar Number One was already so scared that he was screaming. Lucas smiled faintly thinking how human nature was. Swoosh! Following a horrifying sword aura attack that appeared before the crowd, Scar Number One parted from the world for good.

Hogwarts Castle, Somewhere in the Scottish Highlands November 23rd, 1992, 0:39 AM "HE DARES!" Susan yells angrily. Her magic started to flow from her in waves fuelled by her feelings. Around her, the broken stuff in the piles near started to crumble and implode in themselves. It was a scary thing to watch. The Aurors and Unspeakables seemed to agree with that if the fear showing in their faces and body language was anything to be taken into account. For an adult wizard, even more one with the experience that Susan Ravenclaw had, acts of accidental magic fuelled by feelings was a very rare and almost impossible thing to see. It just showed the degree of anger that she was feeling at the momen

“Sorry that must be the pizza delivery “ We ate and I found myself surprisingly hungry and thirsty , I’m sure this guy sitting here will think silly of me, but if he could just see that I just want to eat, drown my sorrow and sleep if possible. Harry had suggested we watch a Scary movie, how horrid of him. I can’t keep count on how many nightmares I get or how many times I’m hiding away from all these scars for him to suggest a scary movie, I rather kept the whole thought intrusive and pretend to watch the movie with him while I’m actually focused on these drinks. I can’t exactly place what’s going on but Harry was saying something and I can’t help but throw my head back in laughter, I know

Harry stopped what he was doing and turned to look at Shannon. He could see fear in Shannon's eyes. Jamie was lying on the ground twitching. Blood trickled down from his forehead. Harry threw the chair in his hands on the ground and walked towards Shannon. "I'm sorry for scaring you, Shannon." Harry was still emitting a fierce aura. He reached out and wanted to untie Shannon, but she subconsciously backed away a little. This caused Harry to freeze for a split second. 'Is she scared of me?'

Anyone who disagreed with him was met with a ruthless beast. He—who shall not be identified or anything—was compared to Voldemort in Harry Potter. We could only pray that it wasn't him, even though we all knew he was responsible for the attacks. After all, hadn't we managed to convince ourselves that dread was nothing more than the result of our imaginations? Lily was rocking back and forth when I turned to look at her. Could she be misled and in error? I hope she's mistaken!

To disappear. Maybe then I wouldn’t feel anything. No pain. No fear. No shame. A muffled thud freezes the blood in my veins. Heavy footsteps. I know who it is. The monster wearing my father’s face. My breath turns shallow, ragged. My eyes dart frantically across the room. I need something. Anything. Something to protect myself. The door swings open with a bang, slamming against the wall. I jolt violently. I force my body to move, to stand, to do something—anything—to not look helpless.