Novel & Cerita Hermione Granger Mudblood

The dark skin girl’s face darkened even more, but only for a moment, as Professor Smart placed a beautiful wand in her right hand. “You can keep it until you manage to make one as good. Just don't start crying because I saw thousands of girls crying and I’m fed up with it.” The girl started to smile, but not because the professor asked, but because she got a wonderful wand: reddish because of the cherry wood it was made of, with green aura surrounding both the wand and the girl's hand, from the jade stone which was on top. Lionel Squisshy got close to Elizabeth's wand again and as if he saw it for the first time, and exclaimed again, to Prince Dragoesti’s indignation:

Whispering words that she intends for him to hear till she noticed a figure standing near her. A familiar voice said in a cold stern tone the words she despise to admit. "You killed him." She lifted her eyes to meet the one who said those words however Morrigan's eyes widened when she looked over Colfre's shoulder, where a woman was standing in front of her. Her eyes are chestnut in color, her hair raven long hair dances by the wind, and her face is innocent but as you look into her eyes it was chilling and horrifying. She watches in horror as an exact copy of her stands in front of her as she kneels in front of Colfre's lifeless body. The eyes of the Morrigan in front of her shedding tears

Or worse, what if they're that crazy to throw me in a pool of piranhas or alligators? Maybe I was losing my mind. Nobody could blame me anyway. I had reasons to go coo-coo anyway. My mom died when I was young, daddy was never nice, loan sharks were after me, and I was left with no choice but to stay at this Hogwarts copycat. Not to mention the lady whom Uncle George called the head mistress looked like that lady who can shift into a cat. I'd never seen the movie, just a few clips Jessy was so obsessed about. Well I wished there would be a real-life Malfoy in this place. That would be awesome. I took in some air while trying to wash away the eerie feeling that's enveloping me before I forced

Not only were they popular, they were the most handsome of all the guys in Gryffindor. To think they where my brothers. I shrugged it off, like it was some forbidden thought. "Gryffindor is made from a long line of royalties. It's like a generational thing." I told her. "I'm mostly confused about it myself." "I'm sure I won't get confused." She replied, doing the high plank . "You've met walker?" I asked her. "I have. We technically bumped into each other in the worst ways ever." She replied. I grinned, knowing what walker was capable of.

“This rule never applied to royal blood. But later, this rule got changed when the number of girls in the coven increased compared to boys. If you’re talking about Caroline, then she is not a witch by birth. She got a second chance by magic, and the part that she gave birth to a girl is pure coincidence.” “Oh!!” “There are three types of witches or wizards. Royal, born from parents who both are witches or wizards, Half-blood, when one of the parents is witches or wizards; and the last one is Muggle, when both the parents aren’t witches or wizards, but they are somehow related witches or wizards, or their ancestors are related to them.” “So, the strongest among them is Royal?” Liara asked out

I turned. A girl with crimson-braided hair stood with her arms crossed. Emerald rings glittered on every finger. Her uniform looked like it had been pressed by magic, and her boots gleamed without a speck of dirt. A pureblood, obviously. Her friends—three other witches—flanked her like wolves scenting blood. “She’s street-scum,” the redhead continued, loud enough for everyone to hear. “Everyone knows the Thornbrook line fell. She’s only here because they’re desperate.”

She reaches out, and holds my arm, “You’ve been crying a lot. Look at you Hermione.” A broken laugh escapes me. “What do you expect? Two years locked away… and now this waiting for me as soon as I get home? I’m… I’m shattered, Zara.” I breathe out, not even finding the strength to talk. Her grip tightens. “No. You’re hurting, yes. But you’re not shattered. You’re still you. You’re still Hermione.” “The smart girl that can program dead bodies to function, but can't fry eggs without turning them black.”

The guards who had rushed in froze where they stood. Confused by their reactions, I looked down at myself. Blood was dripping from my wrist where his nails had scratched through my skin. But it wasn’t the blood that stunned everyone into silence. It was the color as it was Purple. My heart stopped because it was a crime. An abomination. The worst halfblood to be. A trait known only to belong to the Igutus — the halfborns born of lycan and werewolf blood. The cursed hybrids of the Ashborn pack. The very species Tovar had just condemned moments ago.

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

Blake Perspective As I slowly open my eyes, the tantalizing aroma of sizzling bacon and brewing coffee wafts into my nostrils. My blurred vision reveals a bustling kitchen where pots and pans clatter and clink in a harmonious symphony. I feel a warm hand on my shoulder, and a soothing voice assures me I’ll be alright. The gentle touch and comforting words instantly eased the pounding headache and queasy stomach that plagued me after a wild night of drinking. As I scan my surroundings, my eyes lock on Hermione, who appears to be on the brink of collapsing.