Novel & Cerita He Who Must Not Be Named Voldemort

"V-Voldemort." Some staff members flinched at the name. The cold sweat was still pouring off Albus' face, and he talked again. "Tom Marvolo Riddle was the birth name of Lord Voldemort. He was one of my students here in Hogwarts. I was the one that delivered his acceptance letter at the orphanage when he was eleven years old." Albus Dumbledore said with labored breathing. He looked up to Erik, and found him smiling at him. "See? Was it that difficult?"

“What do you want?” “For you to stop asking Becca directly about the potion,” the person replied. “I am Lucas Kade, by the way, and judging by the vampire stink in the air, you must be Alexander Insworthe.” He extended a hand to shake, smiling with his dimples popping out.

her room, and we agreed to meet up later once she took some rest. "It's Bella, right?" Gabriel asked me as we walked towards his room. I just nodded a yes. "Is it short for Isabella?" No, my name is Bellatrix," I answered. "Wow, that's a beautiful name. Your name is from the Latin word meaning Female Warrior." What is this guy, a braniac or walking encyclopedia? I had no clue about the meaning behind my name. I just knew that my grams had named me. "Thanks for the compliment, but honestly, I never took the time to look up the meaning of the name my grams chose for me," I told him shyly. "We're here, I hope this room meets your satisfaction. Give me a shout if there is anything you need," I

I can only assume this was Hail’s passive-aggressive way of punishing me and giving the cupcake protection because it’s my house sigil on the crest around her neck. Not my clan, Dracule, but house Vlademyre’s brand in the silver metal plate. One Hail didn’t bother to have her leave out to avoid this situation. Ally, enemy, kid. Doesn’t really matter at this point because all of them harassed someone under my protection. The immediate jump back as his heart lands with his body, comes with stark recognition as I lift our new servant into my arms. At least from them. Cupcake, on the other hand, has no clue what just happened.

He looked at her like she was the last thing worth saving in a ruined world. “There’s not much time,” he said, walking closer. “He’s closer than you think.” “Victor?” she whispered. He nodded. “But he’s not the only one.” She didn’t understand. “There’s a name,” he said. “One you must never speak aloud. Not until the moon bleeds and your blood sings.” She opened her mouth to ask—but the wind howled around them, scattering the dream. She woke gasping. Cold sweat soaked her shirt. The sigil still burned behind her eyelids.

His fingers flexed once at his sides, like he was fighting down the urge to bare fangs. When I repeated the message, Tell the ignis vitae that I’m coming for what she stole, his head dipped forward a fraction, jaw clenching. Then he said a name. Barely a whisper. Barely a breath. “Draven Kael.” The air in the room chilled, a shiver down my spine. I tasted the name, a blade cold and hard between my ribs. Voss finally looked at me, and for once, his expression was not just stern. It was grim. “You do not repeat that name to anyone unless you want this school to lose its mind.”

"I know." "Then say it." He was quiet, and she watched the war happen behind his eyes — the same one she'd seen in the corridor, the same one she'd seen in the clearing, except this time there was no interruption to save him from finishing it, no footsteps, no Isadora arriving to change the subject. Isadora was already here. Isadora had already seen everything. There was nowhere left for him to retreat to. "It's not a person's name," he said finally, low. "That's the first thing you need to understand. It's not a family name, not like Voss, not like Ashveil. It's older than that."

There is no good and evil. There is only power and those too weak to seek it. ~Lord Voldemort, The sorcerer's stone •• January, 2009 South Africa Al'amir Belko woke up with a start, wiping a hand over his face as he tried to gain his bearings. Despite the Aircon on full blast, he was covered in a fine sheen of sweat, his body shaking–from what, he couldn't remember. Each breath of his was released with great difficulty he wondered if he was about to suffer a stroke. But it couldn't be possible, he was at peak health, despite the condition he was still in after the tragic passing of his wife six months ago.

― 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.

Lucifer “I’m sorry, Gabriel, but I don’t remember much about my sisters. Even in my visions, their faces were obscured by shadows. I don’t even know their human names. I just referred to them by their horsemen names. All I can tell you is that they were close to my age. The other had brown hair and oddly shaded eyes, and the other had red hair. The only thing they had in common is that they all seemed to be frightened of someone who wanted to hurt them. I don’t remember anything else. I’m sorry,”