Leather Bound Harry Potter Books Novels & Stories

But when she pulled it free, her breath stopped. The book was unlike anything she had ever seen. Its cover was bound in leather so dark it seemed almost black, though in the right light it shimmered faintly with hues of deep crimson. Strange symbols—curved, jagged, and foreign—were etched into its surface, pressed deep into the hide like scars. No title marked its spine. A lock, thin and ancient-looking, sealed its pages.

Cain flips open the green book in his hand and Safira opens the one in hers. They stare at me and I smile sheepishly before walking over to one of the shelves and picking up the first green book I see. I smirk as I walk back to my seat. “What are the odds that I picked the book the librarian was telling us about?” Cain chuckles. “There are over one hundred green leather-bound books in here, different shades and different sizes, so let’s say the chances are pretty slim. The book is probably thicker than that.” Safira nods. “A history of Lycan and werewolf magics sounds like something that lives in a thick tome. Probably weighs a few pounds.”

She tore the box open. Inside this box were a dozen books. Most looked the same—typical bindings, mostly classics. But one book stood out immediately. It didn’t look anything like the others. It was thick, overstuffed and weathered, with leather binding. It looked as if it had been through a war. And it looked ancient.

The chopstick-looking things sticking out of her hair might have been funny had she not looked like sex on a stick in five-inch, jet-black, Jimmy Choos. I didn't want to deal with my hair, so I pulled the curls up into a knotted ponytail that made it appear as though I had exerted effort, but anyone who knew me, knew I just got lucky in the hair department thanks to Mother Nature. I donned my usual blush, mascara, and lip gloss before sliding my feet into a pair of silver pumps; mine, however, were not Jimmy Choos. But standing next to Lynn, people would assume I had spent as much on my outfit as she had spent on hers.

I led Harriet there and pulled out the whole ten boxes filled with heavy leather-covered volumes of ancient texts. "These are all the books we took," I said. "Good," she muttered, locking her gaze on the first pile of books, but then she shifted her eyes to me and asked, "Could you leave me alone for an hour or two?" "Yes," I replied, slightly surprised. "Thank you. I will let you know when I'm done," she announced, grabbing the first spell book.

A book with a leather binding. No diamonds. No large sums of money. No secret weapons or blueprints. Just a book. I felt stupid for a moment. Then I reached in and took it out. The weight of it was substantial and firm. The spine was strengthened with old thread and the leather has become smooth with use and age. I had never seen a single crest stamped on a cover before. A crown, dagger and an ember. All three combined to form a single horrifying symbol. I took my place at the desk and got it open. and started reading.

Not for them. For me. I stopped when something caught my eye, my fingers hovering over a familiar section of the shelf. The same place I had taken the herbal book from before. My hand moved without thinking, pulling another book free, the leather cover worn and aged like it had been waiting far longer than I had been here. I wiped a thin layer of dust from it with my palm, my eyes scanning the title slowly. Binding. The word alone made something in my chest tighten slightly. I stared at it for a moment longer before opening it carefully, the old pages shifting softly beneath my fingers. The scent of aged paper filled the air as I flipped through the first few pages, my eyes moving over the w

, he said chuckling. With that, all the sudden out of nowhere a book flew into his hand. A large heavy book, with green leather binding and encrusted jewels. “See for example, I have been reading the Potions of Lore - this book”, he said showing it to me.” You see, it came by itself. Now your turn”.

I got up from the bed and walked around the room, still no pain, how weird. I noticed the bookshelf and decided to take a look. There were so many books, some with older worn covers and others a bit more newer looking. I picked up a small red book and read the cover ‘A Lycanthropy Reader; WEREWOLVES IN WESTERN CULTURE’. I flicked through the pages and put it back on the shelf, a little too intense for some early morning reading. I picked up another one and read the cover, ‘The Garden of Eden’ by Ernest Hemingway. Not what I expected from a teenage werewolf soon-to-be-Alpha. I put it back and my eyes fell on a really older looking book. I pulled it out and it was big and very heavy. It looked

So we stood up from where we were hiding and roamed our eyes around the cramped room. “He almost got us,” I said and wiped the sweat on my forehead with the back of my hand. “I am truly sorry for that.” “No. No need to apologize.” I shook my head and scanned every bookshelf. “Now all we need to find is that spell book.” As soon as I mentioned it, a loud thud caught our attention, causing us to flick our eyes toward it. A worn-out book flew out of the shelf—the same one as I envisioned in my head. Leather cover, with some witches’ symbols etched on it and the pages, almost looking as though it was almost burnt to ashes.