Harry Potter: The Novel の小説・ストーリー

The weather was a bit chilly, so she grabbed a black hoodie and shrugged it on then walked out of the room. She sauntered into the kitchen and found a redhead sitting on the island absentmindedly munching an apple, totally engrossed in the book she was holding. Najmah had wanted to step out but the title of the book caught her attention, so she walked in and right that moment, the redhead glanced up from her book and settled her gaze on Najmah. "Harry Potter and the cursed child huh?" Najmah smiled at her. "Yeah," the redhead beamed, placing a bookmark on the page before setting the book on the island. "Have you read it?"

Most of the books had scribbles but I really didn't mind as long as I could read. Something caught my eye behind a stack of Enid Blyton's books on the upper shelf. Something shiny. I wheeled back, trying to get a good look at the mysterious cover. Holy. Macaroni. Was that Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban? I just had to get that book.

It had always been a thought. Mum’s expression earlier flashed through my mind. I pushed my pink frame back in place as they slipped down my nose. Damn Sally. I sighed and walked to the other side of the room, picking up the book I had tossed earlier. It was a Harry Potter series. One of my favorite books of all time. I hugged it to my chest. “I am sorry.” I whispered, then slid it back into the shelf. I buried my face into my pillow and gave out a quiet, muffled scream.

I searched among the books I kept them in. It wasn’t there. I swear, it was just here. My heart stopped. I searched through every Harry Potter book present on the shelf. Nothing. It was…gone. Was my mind playing tricks on me? I heard the library door shut with a bang. I froze. My hands shook and I slowly turned around. Someone was just here. And that person just took the folder.

Mr Collins instructs after he's finished his angry typing. “Reading what?” I ask. “That,” he points to a book that's on the couch where Theo had been sitting moments before. “What the…” I start to ask, then shake my head, “Right away, Professor Dumbledor,” I snark, picking up the book as he leaves the office. The book looks like a modern school textbook, but the title, ‘The Spark’ has me turning to the first page eagerly to finally get some freaking answers!

she asked, picking up the book. "Pureblooded Potterhead," I replied proudly. "You're looking at someone who's reread Harry Potter so many times that I’ve started cramming what happens on what page." Her face lit up as she said, "You're kidding, me too. I love those books. But Chamber of Secrets is my favourite." “How can you say that?” I gasped. “Deathly Hallows was the best.”

I drank it all in one swift movement. Jason, I wouldn't beg for your love again. I was going to love myself. So… Why are you the one who ended up regretting it? ... I looked at the crystal vial in my hand. The pale, pink liquid shimmered inside, giving off a scent that was both mesmerizing and dangerous. This was the legendary Love Potion, the forbidden magic of our world of Werewolves. Drink it, and the target would have "love" etched deep into their soul for seven years.

“It is not a question of if. It is a question of who.” The realization struck Rael with the force of a storm. The book had burned against his hands. The words had reshaped for him. The Hollow Crown had seen him. And it had chosen. A terrible understanding settled over him. His fingers curled around the book, knuckles white. “No,” he whispered. “It can’t be me.” The shadows trembled. The Crown pulsed again, its glow intensifying. Vame’s voice was quieter this time, almost mournful. “It already is.”

Chapter 1 22:33 Oct 24, 2022 (UTC+0 17:03 Oct 24, 2022) 1087 words Drafts(2) Trash(0)  Your modification request for this episode is under review by your agent. Chapter 17 Scarlett The next day was as usual and surprisingly no one visited me. I found a few books that were placed on the table. It was the Harry Potter series. Taking the book, I went to bed and hopped up. Leaning back, I started reading. The book captivated me wholly and I didnt know how many hours passed until a soft knock came on the door.

Mother Agnes says. "Okay," I say. I follow Mother Agnes to another room. Libby follows up, bringing the book. There is a table with candles and a black and purple cloth resting neatly on it. The three of us sit at the table. Libby scoots the book to Mother Agnes for her to open. Mother Agnes says something over the book in almost a whisper. The book opens. The book seems to take on a life of its own. The page race from the beginning to the end and then settle on the first page.