Millicent Harry Potter Novels & Stories

If he sees me just walking around he'll know I was tying to escape, and I might end up like his mother, I see a woman sat at a little desk with signup sheets smiling, an idea soon pops in my mind and I quickly walk over there. "Hi miss, are you interested in joining our weekly antiques club?" She asks politely with a smile, I quickly nod looking behind me to check Anthony wasn't about "that's great! I just need your full name" she smiles pulling a clipboard up with a pen, waiting for me to say something. "Yes my name is Freya Edwards" I reply making sure to really say my name, she nods smiling but pauses suddenly looking up at me shocked. "Freya Edwards? Wait you're the missing girl" she sho

Richard notices that she is carrying a black box in her hands. "Hello? May I help you?" Richard asks, opening the door. "Mr. Underhill?" The woman asks; Richard nods his head. "Speaking?" "Mr. Underhill, on behalf of Mr. Verlice, I would like to give you this personal invitation and gift." The woman reached Richard the box, "It is in the best interest to not speak of this, nor ignore this one-time opportunity. In case of rejection, you will receive no more offers. Chose wisely, Mr. Underhill, "The woman hurries down the hallway, and a stunned Richard stands left with a black box dressed in velvet.

Rylan only just caught her before she fell head first into the ground. "What...What's happening?' I gasp, as Rylan pulls the unconscious girl into his arms. Behind us, the door was flung open, the girl I met not so long ago running in. Milly, I think her name was. Her face was plagued by a face of utter worry, that seemed so bad, I was convinced for a moment that she would throw up on the floor in front of us. She didn't even seem fazed at the sight of Millicent. Something else important is on her mind...

She’s here as a woman who is discontent bwith her man, only yhe man she has come to meet is not actually her man, not anymore. She strides confidently to the reception desk, her sunglasses perched on her nose. The young woman behind the desk blinks up at her, momentarily starstruck. “Good afternoon, ma’am. How can I help you?” “I’m here to see Arthur Worth.” Millicent says, her tone cool, completely masking how she really feels walking in there, knowing that she is risking a scandal, even worse now that he is married. The receptionist hesitates, glancing at her computer. “Do you have an appointment, ma’am?”

Now, everything felt so fragile, so uncertain. Once they were in the car, he drove slowly towards the park, keeping the conversation light to distract the girl. "What’s your name?" "Lucy," she replied, a shy smile tugging at her lips. "Lucy, huh? That’s a pretty name. You know, I have a niece around your age. Her name’s Sophie." Lucy’s eyes brightened a little. "Really? Does she like ice cream?" Angelo chuckled. "She loves it. What about you?"

Among the plates, glasses and the large tray full of pancakes in the center of the table, there were papier-mâché, glitter and very small flower petals, probably because they were the only ones that Millicent was tall enough to reach in the garden. And, right in front of the table, her daughter stood, dressed in her darker pajamas, as if to imitate formal wear, and with a tie tied crookedly around her neck that Alice recognized as part of her magician costume for the Halloween which was coming soon. “Millie?” Alice smiled, laughing at Millicent's determined expression and inflated cheeks “What's all this...?”

After the students were sent to their various classrooms, we were expected to go in and introduce ourselves. As I went through the names of the students that will be learning Occult 101 with me, my lips stretch into a fine line as I see her name right here. Camille us right, we do have a lot in common. I patiently wait to enter the class last so that I can spend as much time as I can with them. Walking into the classroom, I see her sitting and smilling with a young wizard. I know am not meant to be jealous but I do and it’s stupid, I know but I can’t help it, she’s MINE.

It sustained a light scratch at the far left corner. I stumbled into Malcom’s social media page. There wasn't any recent post. I refreshed the page a couple of times like it could reveal the truth I was seeking. My focus was glued to my phone that I didn't notice when someone sat opposite me. “Hi,” a feminine voice greeted, and I lifted my head to look at her. “Hi.” “I'm Millicent. You just happened to look familiar.” “Oh,” She continued. “Is there any chance you grew up in moon walkers camp?”

I'd come here expecting tedium, but this was beyond even my low expectations. Valoric goes to the door yet again and maybe this time around I would be mistaken for a woodland creature. Grimwell Pack sure had its humor. A servant girl walked in, her head bowed like she was afraid to look up even though her lower face was covered with a white cloth acting as a mask. She moved with quiet efficiency, setting down a silver tray laden with refreshments on the low table between us. She felt familiar and smelled good. Too good for someone I knew would have been sweating all day scrubbing floors.

Every time I look, I feel worse, every time I look, I spend hours scrolling through evidence of my own irrelevance. But I look anyway. Millicent's face fills the screen, she’s radiant in a way I never saw when she was mine. She's at some charity event, standing between Damon Hale and an older man I recognize as Kent Henry, her biological father, the billionaire who appeared out of nowhere to claim her as his heir. She's wearing green. She always looked good in green, I used to tell her it washed out her complexion, because I didn't like the way other men looked at her when she wore it.