Lockhart Harry Potter Novels & Stories

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.

Suddenly her brother's body turned green and went up in flames. "No," she cried in a voice mixed with sadness and relief."What's happening?" "Who is she" Vador asked staring at the little damsel.She was beautiful,he thought,her eyes were green and her hair red . She was dressed in a short red gown that made her look like a real damsel. "She must be the daughter of Francis,the council's secretary," Aleister replied. "And who are you," Ava spat. "Let's just say your worst nightmare. I'm the dark lord"

His costume was a loose sport coat, a sweater, and spectacles. “Heath, you’re not supposed to dress up as yourself,” Rose joked. “I’m Professor Lupin! You know, from Harry Potter?” He pulled out his makeshift wand and acted like he was casting a spell. “And why do I feel like you remembered that this was a costume party only an hour ago?” “Not true. It was two hours ago.”

Orion snorted, sending a spray of toothpaste into his beard. "Harriet, what kind of half-baked remark was that?" I shot her a dirty look. Harriet was losing her touch, if that's all she could come up with as an amusing comment. "You know, in Harry Potter, Harry could hear the snake moving around in the pipes." Harriet shook her head as she crossed her arms defensively. "I could hear you through the pipes. You guys were so loud I couldn't hear the echo of my own moans." I hopped to my feet and waddled over to the couch. I placed the back of my hand on Harriet's forehead. "No, you don't have a fever. Harriet, honey, I think that's the stupidest thing I have ever heard you say."

XANDRIA'S POV I sat on my couch, running my hand through my hair as if my brush wasn't worthy. Ha! Yeah right. I was just too lazy to go into the bathroom and brush it myself. Ice cream was beside me on the table, my sweatpants fit loosely around my waist, and my loose shirt was on my torso like a blanket. I sighed, turning on the TV and finding that Harry Potter was on. Hey! Professor Lupin was a werewolf. Umm... A pretty ugly and fake werewolf.

― Albus Dumbledore, Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire M E Y W A N G | The Asian Potterhead "I am not your friend, Hunter. I do not think we could ever be friends considering the only reason I made acquaintances with you is so that I could use you." This was not what I had planned to say to him but since the words had come out, there was no point in taking them back. I hated to see the pain reflected in his dark eyes, how his smile faltered until it was gone without a trace.

Alarm prickled at the edge of my composure, but I kept my face neutral. “And how do you know I live with him?” He shrugged casually. “I told you I have my sources.” “In other words, you’re spying on him?” He laughed again. “Let’s just say I like to be informed. Knowledge is power, after all.” A chill ran down my spine at the implications, but I maintained my composure. I arched an eyebrow and smiled faintly. “So… are you a powerful man, Director Lockhart?” He leaned in, eyes gleaming with mischief. “Why don’t you find out over dinner?”

Lily asked. “Like Voldemort, he put pieces of his soul into objects so he could live forever. Evil fucking bastard, with his snake head.” Cyrus explained. “So, you’re actually turning Lily’s beautiful story into a kid’s story about a wizzard villain?” His mate April asked, rolling her eyes at her Cyrus. We all laughed. Cyrus always had a movie or song lyric to quote to explain a situation. “It’s not like Harry Potter. You can’t resurrect us using our grandkids.” I said, which made Cyrus’ eyes grow wide.

Max’s POV I had one hell of a day. I was sore, but nothing that the sweet Minerva Jones cannot fix. She whipped me up something from her little portable drawer like bag of potions and dropped a few of it’s yellow content in my tea. She reminded me of professor Snape from my favorite sequel, Harry Potter. The only difference was, miss Minerva was a happy soul. Snape was grumpy.