Mudbloods Harry Potter Novels & Stories

From past histories, the previous Blue Bloods weren’t able to overcome all the challenges they faced from the moment they were discovered before they were eventually killed. *** Lorel Unbelievable!!! What will cost him to tell me the reason why I became a target of the Vampire Prince? Vampire Prince…. Is that even real? Do they even exist? I find everything he just told me difficult to believe. I mean who would believe such a thing. If I hadn’t seen him in his Lycan form, I would have thought he was insane. “You are back.” I heard my mum’s voice as I entered our family’s house thereby drawing me out of my thoughts.

Instead, I bled through my gloves and finished all fifty-eight. Not all of them were cruel. One student, a girl named Nyra Alen, offered me water after a training match. Her skin shimmered faintly like moonlight, and her House crest marked her as Sirenblood—an offshoot of water elementals known for song-based magic and emotion sensing. “You shouldn’t let him push you like that,” she said, handing me the flask. “He’s doing it because he’s afraid of what you’ll become.” I snorted. “Pretty sure it’s because he enjoys watching me bleed.”

Exactly as seen earlier in the castle. The sword. “What does that one do?” I asked, pointing to it. “It drinks blood. For anyone it kills, their blood is stored in the blade. You would try to always have a clothing between you and the hilt” That did not sound more beneficial than fairy dust. “So how useful would it be to protect me?” With only a smile, “very” Time to close the deal. “I have one silver coin” playing with the coins against my fingers. “Make it three and we have a deal”

I blanched visibly, blubbering incoherently as I watched the silver blades pass through his skull and his body seemed to deflate almost, spraying the metallic scent of blood everywhere. “Holy shit! Look at that! Kebab!” One of the shadowlings cheered, nudging his friend with his shoulder and pointing at Hagrid’s corpse. Fuck!! I shuddered, slapping a hand over my mouth to keep the bile from pushing through, and running to the washrooms, only allowing myself to heave into the dirty porcelain of the sink when I was sure I was alone. My eyes bulged and I spasmed as I stared at my hands, the dirty yellow goo that was mixed with small white maggots that wriggled and danced on my skin until I scre

It wasn’t as if we didn’t visit his parents. The Vlad clan as often as we could. But Tristan also respected the intense and healthy fear that many Mystics had of his race. Of all the supernatural races, blood drinkers were by far the most disparaged. Too many had lost control. Were too powerful to keep in check, or stop when their hunger all but extinguished several of the old races. The Fey. Fairies, Elves, Nymphs, Sprites, even some changelings. All creatures of light, and the elements. Their blood, the equivalent of heroin. A drug that gave them abilities they couldn’t imagine, and high that caused nothing but chaos in their obsession.

"Bring him home sometime. You speak so highly of him. I would like to meet him." * * * "Indifference and neglect often do much more damage than outright dislike." — Albus Dumbledore, Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix * H U N T E R J O N E S | The Lovestruck Bad Boy It had been a really good day. I had gotten to spend time with Mey, helping her with homework and telling her my life story. I let out a dreamy sigh, which made me look like Ron after he accidentally drank the love potion. Except that I didn't need a love potion to be crazy about Mey.

"My beautiful Stella Perished before she recognized her remaining three superpowers as a witch." Silence once again consumed the cave. The murmurs of the stream by the wall intensified into unholy roads. Red water began to appear from the cracks on the ceiling of the cave like blood on a lacerated wound. Rains here in the parallel world were known as Blood Shower. It was no wonder a storm had broken out in the forest. "Harry," Alpha Derwin called. Harry quickly looked up from his dinner to his grandfather. He shuddered as Alpha Derwin looked at him seriously like a magician at his volunteer with a deep gaze before playing his trick on him.

His face was handsome and masculine, just like the statue he had just smashed himself. Draco gritted his teeth and struggled, trying to break free from the black liquid wrapped around him. But the stronger he struggled, the stronger and tighter the bonds of black liquid pressed down on him. “What magic is this? This is black magic!" Draco hissed. Edmund moved slowly toward the crowd, trying to blend in with the other sorcerers, seeing an opening for escape. Their circumstances were unfavorable. They were too careless and understaffed. Edmund didn't expect them to be attracting attention this fast.

Blood tears streak my cheeks again, drying to crusty trails I don’t bother wiping away. She’s out there. In a cage. Hurting. *Nine years old*, and they treat her like a monster. The same way they would me if I crossed that cursed border. Templars with their blessed blades, wards that burn pureblood flesh to ash. Father’s right—I’d die. But dying for her… wouldn’t that be worth it? Better than this hollow ache gnawing at my chest, this undead heart that shouldn’t beat but thuds anyway whenever I think of her sharp blue eyes, her alabaster hand in mine, the blush that painted her face pink when I called her what she is. Mine.

Blood seeped through the fabric, warm against my shaking hands. I swallowed hard. “Okay. First step: stop bleeding. Second step: don’t panic. Third step: find magical vampire first-aid kit.” A drawer slid open with a loud shunk. I yelped. “BRENDA! That is NOT helping!” Inside the drawer sat a crystal bottle full of thick dark liquid. I stared. I blinked. I stared again. “…Is that blood?” The lights flickered once. Yes. “Is it vintage? Like… does blood expire?”