Harry Potter Slughorn Novels & Stories

Max’s POV I had one hell of a day. I was sore, but nothing that the sweet Minerva Jones cannot fix. She whipped me up something from her little portable drawer like bag of potions and dropped a few of it’s yellow content in my tea. She reminded me of professor Snape from my favorite sequel, Harry Potter. The only difference was, miss Minerva was a happy soul. Snape was grumpy.

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

Hermione Granger sat cross-legged on the floor of the library, surrounded by piles of books as she pored over ancient texts in search of a rare potion recipe. The silence was broken only by the soft rustling of pages and the occasional creak of a floorboard underfoot. Lost in her studies, she didn't notice the tall, dark-haired figure approaching until he was standing directly behind her. "Well, well, what do we have here?" Viktor Krum's deep voice rumbled, causing Hermione to jump and spin around. The Bulgarian Quidditch captain loomed over her, his piercing gaze fixed on her face. Hermione felt her cheeks flush under his intense scrutiny.

He looked at her like he already owned her. “Hello, Juliet Sinclair,” he said. “Or should I call you Luna… Professor Knight’s favorite student?”

The Headmaster halted his steps when he reached his table and he went straight to the shelf hat stood next to it. "ELA EDO CHALICE" He chanted and with a casual flick of his wand, the ancient chalice that sat on his top-shelf flew towards him. It landed on his hand very smoothly and Professor Sonny caressed its intricate pattern with so much care as if it was a lover he was touching. "Hello my dear, are you ready to receive my surprise to you? I brought you someone whom you were probably dying to meet." Professor Sonny whispered next to the ancient chalice. He has this kind of evil grin on his face when he said that clearly showed that the Headmaster was definitely up to something.

She just said 'ALHOMOHRA' the harry potter spell used for opening doors magically. " What nonsense Davina ! " said the boy and moved away. " S...Sorry ... Stathis ." said the girl. Stathis didn't say anything just raised his hands in to show it's okay. Davina then turned back to Cynthia and Ada to apologize. She looked a bit embarrassed. She was about to say sorry that Cynthia and Ada spoke together smiling, " It's okay muggle's won't understand." This made Davina smile. " OH Great, New potter heads in Tombstone high. By the way am Davina a Slytherin., s he said.

They usually disguise themselves as humans when they are in a crowd, the real form of these creatures is creepy, they appear to be the ugliest of creations when they are in their real form. They have hunchbacks, long tongues, and slitted eye pupils. I pulled off my gloves and discarded them into the waste bin, my gaze drawn back to the lifeless body on the embalming table. In an instant, before our eyes, the body began to disintegrate, crumbling into a fine dust that mingled with the air. Nothing remained of the once tangible form, leaving only a haunting emptiness in its wake. Slitters are created with potions and spells by the dark witches, so this is what happens a few hours after it's de

The spawn of the evil deceased Dark Lord, ruler of the Underworld. “Hmmm, now where did you hide the little Dark Lord?” He murmured, and the scene changed. Suddenly, a series of loud knocks slammed against the greenhouse door, sharp and abrupt, making Ron yelp and jolt back. The ladle clattered against the edge of the cauldron and the images vanished with a hiss, melting back into a bland swirl of violet mist. Ron groaned, shoulders slumping. Now he had to perform the spell all over again. Just who was it that was ruining his progress? He nearly found out where the Dark Lord was kept when he was a baby.

“Trust me, Alex isn’t bad, and enough of the Slytherin bashing. Plus, you’re the one wearing the skin of the humans’ belief in the good mage.” Siobhanny covered her face with her hands and burst into sobs. “How could I’ve been so wrong, prejudiced, fill in your own boring blank?” She peeked up through her — crocodile — tears, and I crossed my arms. “It’s almost like sorcereses haven’t been waging war with mages for centuries or being attacked by wolves.” I snorted. “When were you attacked by a wolve?” Harry’s robes bled into a scarlet hood, when a wicker basket now swung over a slender arm. I gaped at the butthole LLRH, as she slyly studied me back.

Dupont of the Alchemy Department, Prof. Reginald Morell of Arcane Arts, Prof. Dimitrio of Herbology, and Prof. Raevers of charms. There was also a hooded person with them who seemed to be floating on air, beside whom stood the groundskeeper and head of Cryptozoology, Damien Wolvesbane. “Pan Phineas!” Dorin called to the hooded person who slightly tilted his head.