Sleepy Hollow Harry Potter Novels & Stories

It means a great deal to me! ＊ ▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬ "And without thinking, without planning it, without worrying about the fact that fifty people were watching, Harry kissed her." — Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows * M E Y W A N G | The Asian Potterhead It had been Friday night when my friends and I had gone to the club. It was a good plan to keep Hunter off my mind. I had been ignoring him since Christmas. He had sent me a dozen of texts but I refused to read or reply to them. It was better this way.

It was from Brayden, signaling that they’re almost here. Perfect… Shahila muttered under her breath. Harper had no idea but the drink Shahila offered her while they were having a conversation has a small ounce of sleeping potion on it. Just enough to make her sleep soundly while the First Red Blood pack ravages the camp. Shahila replied with a “She just went inside. The sleeping potion shall affect shortly.” Shortly, Brayden responded with a “That’s nice. Is the bastard there?” Shahila rolled her eyes. She didn’t really like the part where Brayden calls her sweatheart a bastard. Still, he answered with a no.

My heartbeat had not yet steadied and I could still feel my arms vibrate by my side. Today's episode of healing mister Holloway was the scariest I had ever encountered in all my life. Face to face with what could have turned to homicide. I wiped my sweat from my forehead with the back of my palm and headed back to the kitchen. Water, I needed water.

"Aww, that's so sweet of you to say! Thank you so much for those kind words, Darla!" Darla's lips are trembling happily. Then, with delight radiant on her face, she walks out through the door, and I glance up at the sound of someone else entering the kitchen. A very tired Sleepy glares down at the food with hunger evident in his eyes. I believe he was practicing magic spells with his friends earlier. His green hair is disheveled, and it looks like he has run his hand through it multiple times today. Yet, amazingly enough, he manages to pull off the "sexy man home for dinner look" to perfection.

Something answers. Jason Moore The Hallow slips away the moment I reach the edge of the market. I feel its retreat like a cold draft brushing past my ribs, a ripple through the wards I carved into these woods decades ago. One moment it stands there, watching the Warren girl, drawn to her power like a starving animal, and the next it melts back into the treeline. Not ready. Still too weak. I click my tongue in irritation. “You disappoint me,” I murmur into the shadows. “After everything I’ve done to bring you back.”

"Yeah, well, you chose all that over me, so I know the answer, Jaxon. You chose that so-called damn sport, then tossed me aside like trash. I don't need to look at you to⁠—" "Mommy?" The small voice from upstairs cuts through our argument like a knife. We both freeze, turning to see Harry at the top of the stairs, rubbing his eyes and clutching a Spider-Man doll. He's wearing pajamas covered in tiny basketballs, and the sight of him makes my chest tighten painfully. Goddess, I never thought I’d see him again, and seeing him now has my wolf breathing like he’s finally complete. "Harry," Natalie breathes, immediately stepping away from me.

she shouts, sprinting out of the room after her. I flop straight back onto the mattress, staring blankly at the ceiling, and let out a furious groan. "Fucking hell." The door creaks open again. I look up, expecting Sofia or Aurora to come back and yell at me, but it's just Harry. He’s holding a red solo cup, leaning against the doorframe with a massive, shit-eating grin. "What's your fucking deal with the figure skater, man?" Harry asks, taking a slow sip. "You actually into her?"

My skin tingled with excitement at the thought of Harry's hands roaming over my curves, stripping away the flimsy lace. Reaching the seventh floor corridor, I paused outside the Room of Requirement, taking a deep breath to steady my nerves. Then, with a trembling hand, I knocked three times. The door swung open and there he stood - Harry Potter himself, glasses glinting in the candlelight. His black hair was messier than usual, like he'd run his fingers through it a hundred times. The white shirt hugged his lean chest and his dark jeans clung to his hips. He was gorgeous.

We reached the base of the spire just as the moon broke through the clouds. And there she was. Headmistress Morwen. She stood at the center of the summoning circle, her silver-streaked hair lifted by the wind, She carried the Obsidian box in her hands. The Key to the Shadow Vault. The one thing that could unleash the Hollow Army, an army of cursed souls bound to the will of its master. Harry stepped from the darkness. His presence warped the air, bending light and shadow. His silver eyes burned, not with triumph, but with something darker.

Their kiss was slow at first, a tentative exploration, but it quickly deepened, becoming something darker, hungrier. Selena gasped softly as his hands slid down to her waist, pulling her closer. Her robe slipped further, pooling around her hips as his fingers traced the curve of her spine. He lifted her effortlessly, his grip firm and possessive, and carried her to the bed. The world outside faded into nothingness. Back at the Den The Den was chaos. Harry paced near the open tomb, his hand raking through his hair. “This doesn’t make any sense,” he muttered, his voice tight with frustration. “This place is warded, guarded—how the hell does a body just disappear?”