He Who Must Not Be Named Voldemort Novels & Stories

- good thing he didn't use them. You can't be a bad girl/boy if you have a phobia - I fear NOTHING. You aren't bad unless you aren't scared to call He-who-must-not-be-named by his name. - ha Tom Riddle (without the Marvolo, I like defying him.) You aren't bad unless you have a code name. -I've been called Tink, Cece, Diary take your pick. You aren't bad unless if you wrote an autobiography, it would be a pretty epic one. -I'm calling mine, The Bad Girl Wears Pink [the story of Secret Nolan].

"We are only as strong as we are united, as weak as we are divided." ― 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.

Violet “Is that you-know-who?” I lowered my voice to a whisper even though he most likely could hear our every word, down to the ragged breaths I let out. “Voldemort?” Olive replied instantly, but this time her sense of humor wasn’t a comfort, not when Hael had gone out of his way to threaten me against coming here. “No, much worse.” “Does he look angry?” I couldn’t help but ask, scolding both Lacey and me for the shiver of glee that tickled my spine from the thought.

she said to me “ I wasn't sure” I sat slowly “ You erased part of me” She nodded, confirming she had done it “ Not just you, not just him. The Thorne were never after healing. They were after control. “ and Wren” I asked. Her smile twisted, she turned to look at the wall on front of her as if they was someone there “ Wren was my prodigy. Brilliant, sociopathic. The only man who ever asked to erase his own conscience, so he could do his work better” she said and and turn back to me.

she replied already turning pink. She was the first and only female to call him by name and he loved it. He was referred to as the lord,Lord Vador or the dark lord.She wasn't scared of him,she even made eyes contacts with him.She was different from ladies in all four empires who were scared of him and wouldn't dare to call him by name. They always threw themselves at him,wanting him to take them to bed and feed on them like it was something to be proud of. "So how would you like to work here with me,as my assistant?"

He really wondered how she was going to kill him though. With his own poison maybe? Because he didn’t know what the sisters did to give them immunity against his methods. He didn’t even have that. It’d be really embarrassing if that was how he died. Well he really hadn’t made a name for himself anywhere so no one would know his story. Finding Megumi wasn’t hard to do. Training with her sword. This wasn’t time to admire her, he had to save his life. “Can I talk to you?” he walked in confident and she turned to him with her sword and he was less confident, and leaned back immediately before his head could get severed.

One stupid woman even said she would willingly give herself to him and make babies with him if he just gave her a glance. I also found out that he was the infamous Morgan Wright, the CEO of Wright Corporation and the heir to the Wright Empire. Before my uncle finished making his call, the whispers around me had already given me a vague impression of the handsome man, and I had also come to the conclusion; he was an arrogant jerk.

As she did, she whispered in my ear, “He’s bloody stunning, Leila.” I smiled as I watched her turn on her heels and walk away. A few moments later the air was thick and warm again, I was very aware of his presence behind me. “Leila is a beautiful name.” He whispered into my ear. I turned to face him. “Thank you, can I ask what your name is?” “Hmmm....” “So, you get to learn mine, but I am not allowed to know yours in return?” I squinted my eyes at him.

Sleep eluded me that night. Every time I closed my eyes, his face materialized: those storm-gray eyes, that cruel, beautiful mouth. The way he had looked at me, as if I were something he yearned to shatter, or devour. I struck the thin mattress beneath me. "Stop it," I hissed, my voice a ragged whisper. "He called you a half-blood like it was a disease. He's not your enemy. He's not anything."

Ares said. I didn't understand them and wanted to. "Who are you?" he asked me. I lowered my head sadly, wishing he had asked me another question, for I knew not who I was. "Can I have your name, please?" Ares begged me. I continued to lower my head in shame, not wanting to tell him I had no name, for I was a wolf without a name. "We both share a wondrous feeling and not having your name will somehow kill me," Ares continued to beg me.