Harry Potter The Chosen One Novels & Stories

ELIJAH I settle onto the bench beside the tree, stealing a glance at the book nestled in his lap. Harry Potter. Perfect. "Who's your favorite character?" I ask, trying to sound casual. He glances up, his dark eyes meeting mine for a fleeting moment before diving back into the book. Well, that's not surprising. He doesn't know me, after all. I’m just another stranger. "I like Dumbledore," I blurt out, hoping to spark a conversation. Not my most smooth move. I am going to fail today.

Lips curled in a half-smile that promised secrets and ruin in equal measure. The academy uniform looked wrong on him,as if the fabric strained under something too powerful to contain. “Aria,” he said. His voice. God!!! his voice. Smooth. Rich. Familiar. Like fire wrapped in silk. I didn’t answer. Couldn’t. Because I knew. This wasn’t a new student. This wasn't a coincidence. This was him. Harry. Reborn. Renamed. Returned. “I’ve heard so much about you,” he said, pulling out the chair across me. Sat without invitation. “The girl who survived the Hollow Path. Who broke Morwen’s staff with a gesture. Who walks like she owns the stones beneath her feet.”

My powers felt like it had grown, a much more satisfying fight than the ones I have been having in the moon goddess' realm. When I spoke, my voice wasn’t entirely my own. "I am the child of the goddess. The chosen one. Who dares to challenge me?" The leader collapsed to his knees. He trembled beneath the weight of my presence, barely able to lift his gaze. And then, his lips parted— "Viktor." So he was behind this. For someone who doesn't want to face me, he has a lot of nerve. Kia’s face flashes in my head and I am reminded that I need to go back home immediately.

Unexpectedly, Henry shifted into his human form; he stood naked in front of the Lamia. He stepped back, stunned, as he didn't struggle back. He trudged on towards the beast; now he realises that it was a half-woman, half-snake, as its hidden face earlier was evident to him. It strided back; it was sacred, even agitated, and a look of shock was clear in its eyes. The beast looked alarmed at that moment. Henry reached down with both his trembling hands and pushed it as hard as he could. The creature stumbled, pain obvious in its face, as he reached down, gripping it by the throat and holding it midair. “How did you know that I was looking for the seer? And what do you mean by the chosen one?"

He informed Alex. "Gods never abandon their followers or their chosen ones; they always stand by the special ones. Hence, the reason why Ogundele, the son of Ladele, the son of Awero (his mother's name), is sitting in the middle of this shrine, at midnight is to get fortified. I plead with all the gods present in this shrine to accept him as the chosen one that he was destined to be. I seek your protection over him as he embarks on the war he is destined to fight. May he conquer all the forces he encounters in the course of the war. May he end up as the triumph." He chanted, as he gave Alex the cut.

We were left speechless. "Finally." Sarah said, breathless. "We did it." Theo said with an exhale. I was short of words. Sarah and Theo looked at me and then I, at them, "What?" "Well you are the chosen one." Sarah smiled at me. "Only you can retrieve it." Theo reiterated.

My heart pounded faster as I rummaged through it. Scrolls. Old and brittle. One of them had a title burned into the front. “The Chosen One.” I swallowed hard.

“My eyes are burning and I have a headache. I think I am going to fall sick anytime.” “It is normal for newly turned to feel that way, or better still, because of the blood that now runs in you,” Bathilda said. “Who is she again?” Harper asked Amber. “I am Bathilda from the Blackburn Coven, a Nightblood and the army commander of our Hedda, the Chosen One; Kyra Blackburn,” Bathilda introduced herself. “The Chosen One,” Harper repeated and she turned to Amber. “Did Mr. Evans not say something like that while rea—”

― 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.

She had a feeling that either one of them—or all, will be chosen to stand for his kind. “We have Derek Baxter, a wizard,” the vice chancellor said, peering down on a small piece of paper. Series of claps broke out of a corner of the auditorium and in seconds, diffused to the other parts as a blonde-haired boy with an unusually long face stood up gracefully and made his way to the podium with small legs like a puppy. Trisha couldn't help but feel jealous that she wasn't ranked number one amongst enchanters but she didn't have much time to nurture her resentment because Dr. Giovanni was on to another name.