Hermione Hogwarts Novels & Stories

I heard the B-word behind me but ignored it and knocked on the classroom door. “Hermione. Welcome. Principal Thompson did mention that you will be joining us. You can call me Mr. Morgan.” The class teacher said and I smiled in response. He was a man in his prime, wearing a formal attire but ditched the tie. “Everyone, this is Hermione Anderson. I pray we will all welcome her with open arms.” A brunette that looked like Barbie in the making, raised her hand and Mr. Morgan acknowledged her. “Is it true that you are related to Ken O’ Brian and live in the same house now?”

Morrigan scribbled on a parchment laid in front of her as the back of her tutor face her, reciting to her about the history of Hymir. Her eyes are drooping down as she fights the urge to sleep and could only sigh silently as she keeps her yawn down.

Leia uttered as she held Alice's arm tightly. "What? I can't hear you!" Alice shouted as she covered her ears slightly. "I said, we could still leave this place!" "You know we can't!" Alice's face scrunched as she swam through the sea of sweaty people. She could smell the strong aroma of alcohol, sweat, and vomit present in the warm, disgusting air. "Leia! Alice! There you are!" They finally found Yu. He was wearing a silvery white wig (which Alice thought does not fit Yu) and a robe that had a Slytherin logo branded on his left chest. It was obvious that he was Draco Malfoy from the Harry Potter series.

In actuality, that was likely true. Hermione had been very talented since she was a child. From a young age, she had relied on a rubbish method of cultivation and cultivated to heights the ordinary couldn’t reach. That was why she had caught the eyes of the people from the Plenilune Sect, which took her into their walls. Since then, Hermione’s personality also began to change.

Hermione Granger sat cross-legged on the floor of the library, surrounded by piles of books as she pored over ancient texts in search of a rare potion recipe. The silence was broken only by the soft rustling of pages and the occasional creak of a floorboard underfoot. Lost in her studies, she didn't notice the tall, dark-haired figure approaching until he was standing directly behind her. "Well, well, what do we have here?" Viktor Krum's deep voice rumbled, causing Hermione to jump and spin around. The Bulgarian Quidditch captain loomed over her, his piercing gaze fixed on her face. Hermione felt her cheeks flush under his intense scrutiny.

"Come on in." The door opened and he saw his Deputy-Headmistress enter his office. Her face didn't look good. Well, at least for him it didn't look good. After more than 40 years working together as his right hand woman, he could say that he could differentiate the faces of Minerva McGonagall, Deputy-Headmistress of Hogwarts School, Head of Gryffindor House and Transfiguration Mistress of the castle. "Albus, what is the meaning of this unscheduled feast today?"

Hermione tends to go off track whenever she has a confrontation with her mother. I've witnessed two instances where Hermione lost her temper after confronting her mother. The first time, she drove recklessly, causing me concern as I trailed her. The second time, I was the target of her aggression, until she eventually came to terms with her reality and found the courage to stand up to her mother. Given her history with Mrs. Pierce's overbearing nature, Hermione strikes me as a resilient individual. Many would have been broken by her mother's behavior, which tends to dominate and disregard Hermione's decisions.

After an annoying and exhausting meeting, I dashed into my mansion to see nobody. There were no workers, and my parents weren't there. I thought they would be in their respective room so I strolled to my own room. I was too stunned that I was emotionless. What I see inside my room was– A girl. She had hazel siren eyes, her upper lip was thinner than her lower one, red hair which was flowing down her shoulder and she was dressed that her upper body and her lower body was revealing. Exactly like a–sexy girl.

I quickly ran towards the exit to leave the club. The cold breeze hit my skin as I went to the back and spotted Yeka and the girl by the dumpster. She was trying defuse the bomb strapped to the little girl's arm. My heart broke when I saw the little girl with her hand over her mouth as she muffled her cries. Her face was stained with dirt and tears and her hair was dirty and messy. "Hey, sweetie," I went on my knees beside her. "Almost there," Yeka muttered. The little girl looked at me. "What's your name?" I asked softly.

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.