Is Harry Potter Fiction Novels & Stories

“Leo, Harry, and Ian are a bit different.” “Different?” I questioned, picking a random book from the shelf. From the cover I was sure it was a werewolf fiction. “Their mom was married to Derek for a while, but things didn’t work out.” He turned to look at me and seeing the book in my hand, his eyes widened. “Please tell me you are not thinking about buying that.” “What's wrong with that?” I looked at him bitterly because I loved reading those stories. “Are you one of those people who thinks YA fictions are not true literature?”

I said, which made Cyrus’ eyes grow wide. “You’ve actually seen Harry fucking Potter?!” “I’ve read it. I have kids and grandkids. I need to know the things they know. Besides, even though the author was a dumbass, it’s a pretty cool story.” Cyrus nodded, “it is, right?” He winked at me. “But don’t fucking worry. I’ll die first, so I’ll let you know what it’s like.” “Don’t make jokes about that!” April said, slapping Cyrus’ arm, who pretended to be more hurt than he actually was.

Two months went by and we were also a week away from Matt's 18th birthday. The man loves to read, so I decided to buy him the complete series of Harry Potter. He loves the books more than the movies. He couldn't afford the whole series, so this is the perfect gift. And also, the wand. He is a Potter head. I saw him walking to his locker, I ran towards him and jumped on his back. "There she is." He chuckled. "You're almost eighteen." I said while hugging him. He's older than us for a few months.

Well, it was a good thing I already know the story, I have read it about a hundred or more times. Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban. What could be better than all the fantasy, action and thriller all in once? Trying to concentrate onto the words of the book and let my imagination disrupt my thoughts, I didn't even realise I managed to walk straight into something hard and strong. I gasped as I was almost knocked out off balance.

“Of course not. It’s just a house . . . my house, as you said.” “I can’t believe it. You’re Mr. Horror, and you don’t believe in ghosts? How is that even possible?” “Okay, Bias, I’m going to blow your mind with one hell of a revelation about writers and their stories. I’m pretty sure Lewis Carroll never fell down a rabbit hole into a magical Wonderland; it doesn’t seem likely that Anne Rice believes in vampires; and I highly doubt J.K. Rowling has met any real wizards. That’s what makes it fiction and not nonfiction.”

Memories of me and Ethan sprawled on my bed or my bedroom floor reading books together, guessing each other’s Hogwarts house. It was Friday afternoon. As the classes were over before noon, I had called Jake over to help me pack all my stuff for the move. Anya would have helped, but she was in her office and had called in to make sure Jake and Andrew were behaving. “Is that Harry Potter?!” Andrew exclaimed, rushing into my room and leaning down to see the books with his big brown eyes. I grinned at him and let him see the books. “My mom gifted it to me when I was ten.”

How I yearned for the good old days when I hopped about the bookshop, checking for story books and picking the ones with the most colorful and captivating covers and titles. It was so much fun and It was definitely in my plans for my future kids when I had my own family. I read books to escape reality, to keep myself busy, to keep my mind off overthinking, and to improve my vocabulary and speech. I flipped my fingers over the books, deliberating on which would be my read for the weekend. I had all seven books in the Harry Potter series and I had read only three. With the aid of my thumb and my index fingers, I picked out the book, ‘Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets.’

I said to him in walking around his room, I turned my head to him in waiting for an answer and he quickly shook his head from one side to another. So he hadn't any family members. But from disgust smell, I smelled something else. He had drugs there, he kept them in a book. I went by the bookshelf and took the third book. "Harry Poter? Are you for real?" He kept in a children's tale drugs. Pages were cut in the middle of a book and placed drugs instead. He paled from my question maybe he was afraid that I liked his book and he destroyed what I like. No, I didn't like this nonsense, but... I shook my head in thinking drop it, Jack.