Harry Potter: The Novel Novels & Stories

Dawn remarked when she wandered into the room one day after class to see the first Harry Potter book in the brunette’s hands. “Hadn’t had time to finish it”, Lena said. She set her book aside and picked up Goblet of Fire “I’ve marked the page you were on”, she told Dawn as she held it out to her. The teen smiled, took the book from Lena and relaxed onto her bed to start reading. Lena picked up where she left off in the novel. ~0~

The greatest people that ever walked through this gate. Tom smiled, then walked away. Harry scurried behind him. As they advanced inside, they turned to the library. When they got in, they saw the librarian chatting on her Android phone, a headset over her head. When she noticed their presence, she smiled at them both, then pointed towards the Author's Catalogue. Tom nodded and walked over to the direction. Harry noticed they had a new librarian, he didn't know this one. On getting to the Catalogue, Harry noticed a little girl in purple skirt and top, and a purple sweater over the top. She was swallowed by what she read that she was oblivious to her immediate surrounding. Harry observed the

I pushed it open and slipped inside. The room was surprisingly small: a bed, a desk, a wardrobe, and a single window overlooking the moonlit forest. On the desk lay a leather-bound book—a journal. My hands trembled as I picked it up. The pages were aged and yellowed, filled with handwriting that shifted from neat to frantic, detailing dates, names, and places. Then, I discovered it. A drawing. A young girl, perhaps seven or eight, with dark hair, dark eyes, and a solemn expression. Beneath it, a name: Ella.

"Mr. Vincent, Dr. Ryder specifically ordered that no one should disturb Miss Majori at this time. You can visit her in the morning when she wakes up." "Move." My voice hardened. I could sense something was wrong with the two of them. After my command, Harper and Harry exchanged a quick glance, but their arms still didn't lower. That was strange — far too strange. Something had definitely happened. My heart tightened. I shoved Harper's arm aside and turned the handle to step into the room. "Mr. Vincent!" Harper and Harry hurried in behind me. The room was completely dark. I turned on the bedside lamp. She was afraid of the dark, terribly afraid of it — so why was the light off?

But the statement seemed to have given her just the strength she needed, as she rose from the bed, and headed for the bathroom. Thirty minutes later, Phoebe returned, looking so refreshed you'd hardly know she'd been in tears. She got dressed in a baggy polo and short pants. While she searched the room for a pin to adjust her shorts that was a little bigger than her at the waist, she caught sight of a novel, which made her lips curl up in a smile. One of the seven series of Harry Potter’s books _Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets. She’d just finished with the first series back home and as luck would have it, that was the next one on the line. Her stomach growled but she ignored it, know

It was the second time I burned myself with my cup of tea. I had recently bought it when I discovered an internet store about literary articles, and I instantly fell in love with the Harry Potter-themed cup that only required the coat of arms belonging to the book when it was filled to the top by a smoking liquid. Most of the time, I just filled it with water just to have the pleasure of seeing the dark color giving way to the brightness that contained the drawing of the most famous magnificent witchcraft school in the literary world.

While the library was filled with business books and self-help books, she was able to find some novels, albeit classics. Mary had stolen them, or more like borrowed them for a while, and she was in his room reading. And no, it wasn’t due to the fact that she missed Nicholas or just wanted to smell his scent. No. It was more because she found reading in his room better since it was bigger than hers and his bed was more comfortable. She lay on the bed, armed with a bowl of salted popcorn she had made early, as she flipped the pages of Harry Potter. Just close to her, on the nightstand, was the milkshake, which she would occasionally sip from.

Even Antonio and Benigno seem more human than her,’ Enrique grumbles. I smile, stifling a giggle. Now’s not the time to laugh, but he is so adorable. He jumps down first, and I jump after. He catches me, although I would have been fine, and places me down as we look around at what appears to be a dirty, small room. It’s extremely dusty, yet it holds countless books and boxes. I recognise the symbols on one of the books, my eyes widening. These are grimoires! What is this place?

He kisses my forehead before making his way into the bathroom. “I’ll leave the door open in case you need anything” He starts the water, telling me to put something on the TV. I get under his covers, grabbing the book on his night table. Harry Potter, an interesting pick for him. I open it up to the first page, starting the book over again for the hundredth time. Daniel’s shower is quick, yet I find myself struggling to keep my eyes open. It’s only 10:00 but I hardly got any sleep last night. I know Daniel didn’t either.

One time at work I'd even heard a co-worker called me the-Squidward-from-spongebob. Exactly why I hated them. That morning I'd just gotten up and, traditionally, said my good mornings to Sam triple zero eight, then the story stroke up. We were having a conversation of a book I'd just finished reading, 'No, Mr Harry Botter, do not turn me into a witch.' Believe me, it was a real book alright. The author was named Harry Botter, so he was the main character of his novel. Stories like that, what do they call them again? Paranormal stories, they were always fun to read. Partly because they were stupid, other part, they were nonsense. Nothing but ridiculous lies.