Tracey Harry Potter Novels & Stories

"It's okay, sweetheart. You know how he gets with that temper of his. I'm sure he'll come back soon enough. When he does, just apologize to him, okay?" For some reason, after saying that, something about Tracy's confidence faltered. The thick drops of blood on the floor made her heart tighten uneasily. Harry, however, seemed instantly relieved. His earlier stubbornness vanished, and he broke into a carefree smile again. Tracy rested a hand on her stomach and picked up her phone to send Ethan another message. "Let me remind you again that it's Harry's birthday. All his friends are here. Watch yourself and don't embarrass him. You can come back after everyone leaves."

A small grin found its way onto her face, breaking through her earlier tension. “And what is your name, sir?” “My name is Powell, but you can call me Shades.” “Uhh… alright, Shades. Thank you very much.” “It is my pleasure. Let me go get Harry.” Without another word, he turned and walked toward the bungalow, his steps measured and purposeful. Tracy watched him leave, her shoulders relaxing slightly now that the intensity of his presence had moved away from her. A few minutes passed. Then the door opened, and Harry stepped out, hastily trying to knot his tie as he walked. He looked like someone who had been caught off guard but was determined to recover quickly. Shades returned to his positio

Of course she got him to promise to do an interview for her always-upcoming YouTube channel. Harry joined us a while later, just back from the gym, and the sweaty version of the Persian Prince in a tight tee and running shorts was almost hotter than his casual street fashion. Before Amy and I could kill her, Trisha rested a hand on his forearm and met his eyes dead serious. “If you ever get tired of men, you have Fran’s number.” “To get in a fight with the Haunter?” “What? Oh, no. I’m saying ‘cause she has my number.”