Hermione Granger Death

My husband's first love jumped to her death due to depression and landed right on me as I was passing by. I was rendered unconscious on the spot and subsequently rushed to the ICU. However, my orthopedic surgeon husband stayed by his first love's side to comfort her over her minor scratches. He even refused to sign my Critical Care Notification. "Whoever joined her charade can get lost along with her! Come to me when she's really dead!" he said. It wasn't until he received a death certificate that he realized in horror—the deceased's information was identical to mine.

Meet Hermione Hass, a college student who decides to look for a job to pay for her studies. When she meets Spencer Pawlan, a company owner who is terribly sexy, she sees him as a potential crush, knowing he's far too impossible for someone like her. However, Spencer harbors a very significant secret—why does he want more than one assistant close to him? Each of them shares something in common with Hermione. But by the time she realizes the terrible secret, it might already be too late. Do womanizers change? I think Hermione had found the answer.

One week after my death, my husband, Christopher Ford, was making love on our bed with his one true love. His face showed pure satisfaction. "Finally, I don’t have to deal with that bar hostess anymore." Later, he held my belongings, weeping with regret. "Phoebe, why haven’t you come back?" It seemed he had forgotten that he had already pushed me to my death that night. I was forced to donate my bone marrow to his one true love, and I died, along with our unborn child.

On the third day after my death, my body was sent to the police station in different packages. Jonathan Walsh, my husband, and Frank Stone, my junior at work, saw my corpse and frowned. “If only Elena were here, she would have been able to find some clues.” Frank sighed as he stared at my horribly mangled remains. “Don’t mention her. She’s not even worthy of being a forensic scientist!” I stared at my husband with a conflicted look. He analyzed each part of my body and deduced the manner of my death with familiar ease. “The murderer is a monster…” Frank’s face turned pale, and he sighed again. Jonathan calmly used all that I had taught him and perfectly pieced out the entire process of my death based on the clues from my dismembered body. I could not help but feel proud. Unfortunately, he was still a little off the mark. He did not manage to figure out that this body belonged to me, his wife.

In the world of werewolves, Artemis Eretria Aravis is a woman who possesses an average amount if power. She is the daughter of Hugo Aravis, the powerful Alpha of the Moon Crescent Pack. She is not at all like her twin sister Hermione Aravis, who is significantly more powerful and possesses a great deal of potential to advance into a leadership role. Everyone is cruel to her. She has no friends. Everyone in their pack detested her. Until the day that her father made the decision to arrange for her to become the mate of Blake Gaius Dutch, the youngest powerful warrior and son of Blood Pearl Pack's most powerful Alpha, Romano Dutch. This will allow her power to increase as it should. She was taken aback, but at the same time, she had been pining for him for quite some time because his stunning good looks had captivated her. However, what the others did not realize was that Hermione had been in love with him for a very long time. Blake Gaius Dutch was opposed to that fact, but that matter had already been resolved by their family. Hermione is the object of his affection, and the two of them are head over heels for one another. During the time that Artemis loved him so deeply, he chose to have a romantic relationship with Hermione despite the fact that he disrespected and was rude to Artemis. But eventually, the day arrived when Kade Zeph Ford, who would one day become the Alpha of The Fearless Walkers, entered Artemis's life. He did this in an effort to save her, as he is aware that her life is comparable to living in hell. However, Blake does not want any other men besides him to have physical contact with her. . .

Three days after my death, Dominic Sharp receives a phone call asking him to identify my body. He has an arm wrapped around a woman's waist as he says indifferently, "I couldn't care less if she's dead. Call me once she's been cremated." My body is sent to the crematorium. After putting the ashes into an urn, an employee calls Dominic again. He clucks his tongue impatiently. "Alright, alright. I'll be there soon."

While my corpse was rotting in the morgue, my fiancé, Ron Corleone, was comforting my murderer. Lisa Corleone sobbed as she said, “After we were kidnapped and brought here, Wendy disappeared. We don’t know if she managed to escape. It was all my fault. If I hadn’t insisted on going out with Wendy…” Ron’s face was ice cold. “The future mistress of the Corleone family actually abandoned my sister and fled on her own. If she dares to come back, I’ll break her arms and legs and turn her into a maggot that only deserves to live in the dark!” In fact, I did die in some random corner with my limbs broken. The truth about my death made Ron, who had vowed to make me regret my existence, crazy.

Three days after his first love Mandy's death, my husband locked me in a steel cage and sank me into the ocean. "You vicious woman," he spat. "Stay here and repent to Mandy!" He didn't know I carried his child. I thrust the pregnancy confirmation toward him, but he walked away without a backward glance. Yet when he later saw my corpse—bloated and decomposing in the seawater—he went insane.

It's my third day of being a ghost, and I feel like I'm going to starve to death again. The underworld messenger takes pity on me because I'm a child and secretly tells me that people like me, who suffered grievances and died with resentment, have to stay by the sides of the people who loved us most in life. Then, we survive on their "guilt". I lower my head and narrow my eyes. I choke up and say, "You might as well just leave me to starve." My mother hated me to the core. Why would she ever be guilty over my death?

My sister pulled a knife during a robbery attempt, and we got into a brutal fight. My mom, an auxiliary police officer, arrived at the scene but totally ignored my injury. As I lay in a pool of blood, begging for help, she just cradled my sister and yelled at me, "You're so desperate for attention that you'd hurt your sister? How did I raise a heartless monster like you?" She branded me as the aggressor, ignored my pleas, and rushed my sister, who had mere scratches, to the hospital. I was left alone to die miserably in that deserted alley. When the news of my death arrived, my mother dismissed it as another one of my lies, pointing at my body and demanding I get up to apologize to my sister.