Hufflepuff Quidditch Robes Novels & Stories

7:00 pm, I stared at my phone once again to see if I had any missed calls or messages, but there were none. I had gotten him some cufflinks made of black diamonds. The cufflinks exuded a noble aura and their black color, excluding an aloof and cold beauty. It was a lucky find, and its color reminded me of Morgan's dark, stormy eyes and his cold nature. I had told them I wanted express delivery, thinking Morgan would receive it as early as possible and decide to call me.

Changed to a black dress code and wore his head with a cap. He had a bag of safe contained potions. One blue that was in a large tube and the second green was set in a smaller test tube whereas the third one had already been deposited inside a needle shimmering in a bring purple cloth set inside a specimen bag and packed carefully in a small transparent containing case.

“I am just a village girl, I have no understanding of magic, why would you ask me?” He looked at me from the corner of his eye. “Was one answer the answer, or both?” he asked. “Both of us,” I decided. “Why would people seek entry to this place, if not for freedom or power?” He frowned but redirected his attention to the stair and our gradual climb. At the top, a robed figure waited us. The midnight blue fabric of the robes was embroidered around the sleeves, down the front closure, and around the hood that was pulled up casting the person’s face into such shadow I could only pick out a strong nose and stubble ringing a full lipped mouth. The robes reminded me of Rivyn’s cloak, except not so

In a lighter shade of gray underneath it, she wears a mid-thigh length hooded sweater dress with black over-the-knee boots. We knew she was a council witch because all the witches from the council wear the same cloak design as her's, but in different colors. They are color-coded by what kind of magic the witch is linked to. Blue is for powers related to water, red for fire, green for earth, and purple for wind. I had never seen a gray cloak before, except today. The brunette completely ignored us and walked in Naomi's direction. I stand up and step forward, giving a warning growl.

I didn’t want to let go of Ben’s hand, but at least I knew he’d be in the room. Mage Jaye stood and walked around the room. She looked every bit as much like a witch as anyone I’d ever seen in a movie who was pretending to be a witch. She had a long, sharp nose, pale skin, and red curly hair pulled back into a bun that I could only see when she lowered her hood. She was wearing a long navy blue dress with gold trim, in similar shades to the uniform I’d noticed the man wearing outside who’d let us into the gate. I thought those must be the official colors of the School of Sorcery.

Ruby curtsied and started heading towards the door. "Ruby, you're still only wearing a slip." Phoebus reminded. "Oh, am I?" A bright light suddenly encased the witch's body for a second before disappearing again. Her purple slip was replaced by a red and white off-shoulder dress with a black collar. A red cloak was wrapped around her shoulder and the purple butterfly covering her right eyes was replaced by a red one. Her long silver hair was tied in a braid decorated by the same red butterflies. Ruby pulled the hood over her head and winked at the marksman before exiting from the door.

"I am what I am, an' I'm not ashamed. 'Never be ashamed,' my ol' dad used ter say, 'there's some who'll hold it against you, but they're not worth botherin' with.'" — Rubeus Hagrid to Harry, Ron, and Hermione in The Goblet of Fire N A T A S H A | The Cunning Ex Girlfriend

But considering that sorceresses tend to age slow, guessing their actual age could be a tough nut to crack, itself. The other party was dressed in a long, light blue robe and her collar and cuffs were both trimmed with soft fur. Her robe was covered in shimmering snowflakes and on her head was a hat of fur and snowflakes that looked a little like a crown that sparkled like an icy flame.

I let my purse slide down my arm and drop to the floor where I stood in front of his desk. “Because short skirts and Harry Potter T-shirts are so professional,” he retorted. I wore a black, pleated leather skirt that sat high on my hips and flared out with bare legs and black combat boots. On top, I wore a white T-shirt that read, “I’ve got 99 problems, but a snitch ain’t one,” with the golden Harry Potter snitch on it tucked into my skirt. “Whatever, Muggle.” I plopped down in one of the chairs in front of his desk.

While James tackles the living room, I start decorating the staircase. Not entirely by choice—James flat-out refused. He claimed that he’d either fall over the railing or end up strangled by the lights. A bit dramatic. Or maybe I’ve just traumatized him over the years with my bad luck. It takes us nearly two hours to finish the rest of the house. Finally, it’s time for our favorite part: decorating the tree. When we picked out decorations, James had insisted on red and gold. “I’m a Gryffindor,” he’d declared. “So, these are the best colors.”