Slytherin Hermione Granger Novels & Stories

Professor snapes said with a smile as Gao Yu kept mute. “Anyway I called you for something, how did you learn the second verse of the ritual recitation?” Professor snapes asked. “I Don’t know, I found out I know it when you started reciting it” Gao Yu said nothing but the truth. “I see, you are really among the children involved in the ritual years ago, why must my little sister die though? Professor snapes said smiling as a drop of tear dropped down his eyes, his little sister has been among those affected by the ritual, she was the very last person he could call a close family, she was six when the ritual took place, he can still remember how the little girl shivered after reciting the rit

The daughters of the high Lords, or as I liked to call them; the Courtyard Hags. “Selena.” Hermione purred, stepping out from under the archway with her usual entourage of highborn airheads. She was a perfect kid of expensive silks and fangs, and it rubbed off on me the wrong way. “Youre dressed, comfortably. How noble of you.” Hermione and I weren't friends, but I knew an insult when I heard one. “Thanks.” I let out, my smile bright. “I was going for, the financially humble, emotionally stable look. I nailed it, didn't I?”

I heard the B-word behind me but ignored it and knocked on the classroom door. “Hermione. Welcome. Principal Thompson did mention that you will be joining us. You can call me Mr. Morgan.” The class teacher said and I smiled in response. He was a man in his prime, wearing a formal attire but ditched the tie. “Everyone, this is Hermione Anderson. I pray we will all welcome her with open arms.” A brunette that looked like Barbie in the making, raised her hand and Mr. Morgan acknowledged her. “Is it true that you are related to Ken O’ Brian and live in the same house now?”

Not because she didn't know what was in the bag, but because she could see that she was shaking violently. The platinum-blonde-haired witch tried to compose herself and calmly explain why she was there. "As you know, Bianca, my sister, Dhara, and I are witches. However, each of us has a gift of our own. As for me, I am a potions master..." "Like Severus Snape?" cut in Bianca, suddenly excited. "Who?" asked Dhara and Darya in the same voice. Bianca quickly put a hand to her lips before clearing her throat in an attempt to quell the embarrassed laughter that ran through her. She thought hard, "Oh my God, Bianca! Did you seriously just quote a Harry Potter character to real witches?!"

Some thing was about to happen; she could sense it. Beside her, her loyal companion, a majestic black wolf named Luna, her grandmother, exhibited a restlessness of her own. The fur on her back stood on end, her keen eyes scanning the surroundings with an intensity matching Emily's own unease. Luna Malfoy had always been attuned to Emily's emotions, and now her wolf instincts seemed to amplify the growing strangeness in the air.

None will depart their exquisite home to here and Julie also will currently be on duty so it's definitely princess Hermonie. The swung door heavily slam the innocent cracky wall. Such power princess Hermonie got there. It's pretty great she need reduce her impact. The walls are too way old and cracky. More if such impactful powerful slam may forever crack and bury this entire room to the ground. Our hide out will be gone and exposed and we'll be open and tasty prey to her very alpha brother alpha Ron. "How filthy hermione's most lov"ed location within the pack out turns".

To protect ourselves, we shut off people. I remembered her stories about them being the Harry, Ron, and Hermione of the Southshire Academy. Luna is the kind of girl who is hard to be hated. She’s kind and cool. I want a relationship like what Lucas and she have. They are the polar opposite of each other but they fit perfectly with each other.

Ding, ding, ding, we pull away to see Silvia standing on the stage. “Can the birthday girl please come to the stage.” Silvia says and I feel Octavia stiffen in my hold, she knows what’s coming. We walk up to the stage and our dads come through the side door attached to the stage, holing her cake; a Harry Potter themed three tier cake, the bottom layer is Green (Slytherin), dark chocolate devils’ cake, the middle layer is Blue (Ravenclaw), milk chocolate mud cake and the top layer is the Marauders map, with a silver wolf howling on the top, it’s a white chocolate and raspberry centre sponge cake. There is black frosted roses and other HP symbols positioned around it.

“I do. I’ve seen the movies and read the books, because I know you’re going to ask.” The smile comes back to her face, but it’s not the same one as before. I’m back to feeling like a jerk and am getting afraid it might be too late. We just had sex—twice—and I’m acting like none of it mattered. If only she knew how much it did. How much it always has. “They’re modern classics.” “Yeah, they are. Obviously, I’m a fan.” “I got sorted into Ravenclaw. I did the quiz online.” “I got Gryffindor.”