Harry's Book Novels & Stories

Hm… might have to have a good long think on that one. Lena closed the book after finishing up the entry and put it back into its place in her desk drawer. She tugged the band out of her shoulder length brown hair, running her fingers through it. The young woman then moved over to her bed where on the nightstand, was a very worn copy of Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone. She got comfortable on her bed, picked up the book and started to read. She got through about 10 pages before there was a knock on her door. "Come in!" Lena called. She glanced at the door when it opened and fellow sorority sister, Casey Grant, walked in.

CARINA As soon as I got in the house, I saw him seated on the couch in the living room smoking. This got me really surprised because the Harry I know would never go near smoke. This is not the man I used to call my best friend. Harry has changed a lot since I met him. He's suddenly so wealthy, he's violent and now he even abducts people just to get what he wants. That's not the sweet, loving and caring Harry I used to know.

Harry is in his bedroom , he sits on his bed and places his laptop on the bed with his legs crossed, he goes through his records on the system. He does this every Saturday, in order to place in order his work sheets for the week . He had to be very articulate in his job and always wanted to know what his workers where up to. He had heard stories of people's workers embezzling money from their companies and making use of the stolen money to start up their own business ,thereby putting the other company in the risk of folding up.

Alastor was at the stove cooking away, and Harriet had her face resting on the breakfast nook table. “Whatcha doing there, Hare?” I questioned her as I peeled off my jacket and plopped down beside her... Books were in various stacks all across the table. I picked one of the books up and recognized the name, Andre Armando. I glanced around; they were all Adre Armando’s journals. “How many years have you read?” “Too many.” Harriet partially picked up her head off the table and then let it fall back down with a dull thud.

When he arrived home, he noticed Lara wasn’t back yet. “Play with your blocks, baby,” he said as he set Harry on the floor. Pulling his phone from his pocket, he called Lara. “Hello.” “Hey, sweetheart. I’m home with Harry. How’s Helen? Are you on your way?” “Yeah. We’ll be home soon. She’s fine.” “Great. I miss you and I love you.” “I miss and love you too. See you soon.” “Book. Book,” Harry said as he tugged on his pant leg while holding a book in his other hand.

He walked towards the door then added a warning, “Don't you try anything funny, boy. I will find out and you will pay dearly.” Harold sighed for the third time that evening and it was due to both physical and mental exhaustion as his professor shut the door behind him. He should have know his professor wasn't going to help. But still, why had he sent him that letter? Harold's minds brooded over the question as he wiped the books upon books clean and rearranged them; Celine Dazzle's ‘A trip on Brooms’, Mitch Flibberton's ‘Wolfaholic’ and so on.

- one of the guys say and I grab it from my back pocket and give it to him. He smashes my phone on the floor and then they start searching for me. “Go” - he says giving me a push. I start walking with my hands up. They take me through different corridors but I make a mental note of the way out. This is like a freaking labyrinth. I see two guys guarding a door and they open it. I step inside to find a really modern and decorated office. Harry is sitting at the end of the room in a big black armchair while he reads a book.

This made him a little intrigued to get to know her more. "While this may be a reasonable excuse, in my case, I haven't lost the passion for reading. I usually stay in my study room and read lots of books." Harry never for once lost his passion. "I could still remember you used to be amazed by Sarah J. Mass book; you remember one of her book that was your favorite then?..." Harry pretended to have forgotten the title of the book, whereas he was actually trying to test her to be certain . Edna observed that Harry's statement implied that she should recall the book title and this became a real problem; she didn't read any part jn the diary that stated his little girl's favourite book. She was

Dad, Dante, walks to me and kisses my head. “You should know better that Harry will never do the books. So yeah, I did them.” I say and he laughs just as Church comes to an end and Harry walks out and stops in his tracks, seeing our dad looking at him. He points to the door and bolts. I roar in laughter. He will never change.

Just the two of us, breathing in a penthouse that no longer felt like a fortress. It felt like… home. Harry was already in bed, propped against the headboard, a book resting on his lap. His hair was slightly damp from the shower, and the edge of a smile played on his lips when I stepped into the room wearing one of his old black shirts. Just that. No lace. No drama. Just me skin, heart, and scars all out in the open. He watched me silently, his eyes trailing every step I took. When I crawled onto the bed, he closed the book slowly and tossed it aside. "Come here," he said, voice low and full of heat.