Novelas y relatos de He Who Must Not Be Named Voldemort

Voldemort's voice rang out with venom, "You have some balls showing your face here." Aeron, attempting to speak, was silenced by another forceful blow. Voldemort continued, "Tell me why I shouldn't end you here and now." Aeron, struggling to find words, wanted to explain, but before he could utter a single sentence, Voldemort interrupted with yet another punishing blow. "That was not a question," he declared, his eyes ablaze with malice. Voldemort ordered the guards to lock Aeron up, proclaiming that the execution would take place the next morning. As Aeron was led away, his mind raced, grappling with the dire situation he now found himself in, and the uncertainty of what awaited him on the

The spawn of the evil deceased Dark Lord, ruler of the Underworld. “Hmmm, now where did you hide the little Dark Lord?” He murmured, and the scene changed. Suddenly, a series of loud knocks slammed against the greenhouse door, sharp and abrupt, making Ron yelp and jolt back. The ladle clattered against the edge of the cauldron and the images vanished with a hiss, melting back into a bland swirl of violet mist. Ron groaned, shoulders slumping. Now he had to perform the spell all over again. Just who was it that was ruining his progress? He nearly found out where the Dark Lord was kept when he was a baby.

Again the parts of a song… I’m leaving on a jet plane I don’t know when I will be back again Oh babe I hate you go... Mrs. Hillary, who is included in the ranks of killer teachers, is not only fierce but also famous and sadistic. If Mrs. Anna math teacher is Voldemort. So Mrs. Hillary is Professor Snape in the famous School of Witchcraft and wizardry book series, because of the sadism. When a student is do something wrong, it's over. It happened one day that almost all the kid of 11-7 were expelled from class for not doing homework. The remaining 11-7 residents are only a few people like Alfred and several children who are classified as diligent in doing homework. Smart children are not nece

Most dark witches will stay away from sacrifices, as the price you pay for using this kind of dark magic usually ends with the loss of your soul. I stand there and watch as this witch continues on with her ritual.It takes her a while to open up the portal to wherever she is trying to release someone from. She is talking in a language that I don't understand. As she gets closer to the end of the ritual, the more powerful it becomes. I can feel the dark magic all around me, and it makes my skin crawl.Once she finally finishes the ritual, a giant of a man walks out of the portal. He is easily 7ft, with long dirty blonde hair, he has a massive body frame. He looks like he has worked out in the g

I blinked at her, completely thrown off. “That you and..ugh…I can’t even say his name,” she said, making a face. Then she shook me like I’d lost my mind. “What is wrong with you?!” “What did I do?” I tried to push her hands off, confused and a little scared. “Why are you dating he-who-must-not-be-named?” “Voldemort?” I said without thinking. She pinched my cheek, hard. “This is not the time for jokes, nerd. Do you want to die or something?”

They stopped at a big hall which had a deadly aura as the men pushed the teenagers inside the dark hall "Well,well,well and who do we have here?Hello Summer or should I call you Niece? . . . . . "Do you know my dad?" Summer asked staring at the strange man "Of course yes infact we were brothers" Lord Voldemort said as he finally came down from his throne revealing his handsome but evil face "Really,so you knew Mr Jerald?" Dorian asked as the man cold gaze fell on him

“Whatever you know for your mother, remember? Better start talking.” She inhales a shaky breath and sits down. “The vampire lord's name is Dario Vitale. He's ruthless, fearless, reigns over three kingdoms because he's constantly waging war against tiny villages owned by witches. Some people say they've never seen him, and others who have described him as a young man whose beauty can make you sin.” I cross my leg, tapping my fingers against my thigh as I stare at her. “And the kingdoms he rules, what are their names?”

Matteo Romano. He rose from the shadowed corner, towering, broad-shouldered, his black suit tailored with the precision of a king in exile. His face was carved in lines of command: sharp jaw, straight nose, lips that could give orders like death sentences. But it was his eyes that froze the blood in her veins. obsidian, fathomless and unreadable. Il Re di Ferro. The Blood King. Whispers rippled through the hall like wind through dry leaves. No one expected him here. No one dared to speak his name too loudly.

Had he done something to immobilise him or did the wizards do that so he couldn’t help? I took a breath. "It was the masked men but the vampire was here." Grandfather’s expression darkened. “The vampire?” I nodded. “His name is Abbadon.” His shoulders went rigid. “Abbadon?” He repeated the name like a curse, like a whispered legend that should have never been spoken aloud. I bit my lip. “He was here.” My grandfather’s face was unreadable, but his eyes burned with a mixture of fear and something else—resignation.

“Immortal…?” He nodded once. “Cursed to walk through centuries, bound in shadow and flame, never belonging to the world of the living or the dead. Every few decades, I change my name, my face, my mask. But the curse stays.” His smile was bitter, broken. “Harry is just the name I wear for now.” I stared at him, the weight of his confession pressing hard against my chest. “And headmistress Morwen?”