Novel & Cerita Was Dumbledore In Gryffindor

When the results were released, my stepbrother, Dylan Anderson, conspired with our class teacher and accused me of cheating. When they presented the two examination papers with the exact steps written out, I was rendered speechless. My biological parents forced me to admit that I cheated to protect Dylan’s reputation. Then, they forcefully sent me to a mental asylum. To cover up the scandal, the Anderson family told everyone that I had gone insane. They left me to suffer alone. I finally escaped, but died tragically in a car accident facilitated by Dylan. When I died, I finally learned that the phrase “blood was thicker than water” held no truth. It was no match to Dylan’s lies. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the past. I was in the examination hall again. I handed in four blank examination papers. I wanted to see how they could accuse me of cheating if I scored zero on all papers.

She fell for him under the guise of love, in return he watched her die with no knowledge of life blooming in her…a piece of him. But she doesn't stay dead and returns a different person, an ancient incarnate now filled with spite and a deathly need for revenge. “Where is my child, Kael?” Demands from a cursed man with a grieving heart will fix nothing compared to the cost her resurrection had come with. Because there's a lot more beneath rising from six inches under…

"Doctor, hurry up and examine me." Inside the consultation room, a stunning woman was laying face down on the bed. She raised her hips toward me and asked me to examine her condition, but I wasn't a doctor. Just as I was about to refuse, she pulled down her pants to reveal her fair, smooth back. Who could possibly resist that?

The student I once sponsored, Lillian Pegg, jacked my identity, slapped on the "rich heiress" title, and started tossing out houses and cars like she was some fairy godmother for "underprivileged" students. Her big mission? Making sure everyone had a roof over their head. My in-laws? Wrapped around her finger. They swore up and down she'd saved their lives. Even Liam—my son with my late husband—acted like she was the only mom he'd ever had. Meanwhile, I was puking blood from ulcers, and everyone treated it like a bad improv act. Liam bought every word out of her mouth. Thought she and my husband were some kind of twin-flame couple and labeled me the evil baby snatcher. Fast-forward: I got locked in a bedroom and left to bleed out. Then I woke up. It was the exact day Lillian was playing Santa Claus. The crowd around her practically worshipped her. "You're the kindest boss in the world! You care about our food, clothes, housing, everything. We'll support you and your company forever!" Yeah, not on my watch. I shut down all her privileges right then and there. This time? Lillian and that backstabbing son of mine were gonna eat regret for the rest of their lives.

Tess let a stranger claim her. He touched her like she was worth everything, then walked away when he learned something about her he swore never to get involved with. Now he's her boss, and he pretends she doesn't exist. Donovan has rules. But Tess almost made him break them. He touched her, almost claimed her, but had to force himself to stop. Now she sits outside his office every day, and he's haunted. He avoids her like a disease, becomes crueller than ever to suppress his own desires. Because if he lets himself feel anything, he won't ever be able to stop. His addiction had a face now, and she's destroying every defense he's built.

In Silver Hollow, a girl could not leave her family home as a bride until the groom's family had prepared a complete set of seven silver wedding pieces. For six years, Logan Carney promised me that my bridal set would be ready soon. But every year, one piece was still missing. So I waited. I waited until the girl everyone once called beautiful became the woman people whispered about behind her back. In the seventh year, I emptied my savings and secretly ordered the silver crown myself. It was the most expensive piece, but I told myself it was worth it. I loved Logan, and I wanted to help him. But on the day I went to give him the crown, I stopped outside his door. Inside, I heard his younger brother, Caleb Carney, speaking in a low voice, "Logan, are you seriously giving this year's silver crown to Abbie? You have been giving her one piece every year for seven years. She already has a complete bridal set." Logan laughed softly. "Abbie is different. She's wild, and everyone in town treats her like one of the guys. She is afraid no man will ever marry her, so she wants a full silver set to prove she is still worth marrying. Giving it to her doesn't hurt me." Caleb was quiet for a moment. "And what about Julia?" he asked. "What if she finds out? What if she gets angry and marries someone else?" Logan snorted. "She has waited for me for six years. If she were going to leave, she would have left long ago." Then he said the words that shattered the last of my heart. "Besides, she is already twenty-eight. Who else would want her now? Let her wait one more year. Once she is almost thirty, she will be grateful just to marry me. A woman like that won't dare act proud anymore." I stood outside the door, feeling as though my heart had been ripped wide open. At that moment, I finally understood the truth. For seven years, I thought I had been waiting for my wedding. All along, Logan had been building someone else's. If that was how he truly felt, then it was time for me to find myself a new groom. I dialed a number I had buried for years. The moment he answered, my voice trembled. "I'm getting married in three days," I said. "Will you come steal me from the wedding?"

I was a wedding planner, and I personally designed my husband's wedding to his mistress. I had been with Victor for five years. Three of those years were swallowed by the pandemic. The remaining two were spent married, pregnant, and raising a child. The wedding I had always dreamed of existed only as "next time" whenever it came out of his mouth, until the day I received a new wedding planning request. The client was a young woman, her eyes curved with laughter, her smile bright and full of hope. "This is the venue my boyfriend chose himself," she said softly. "He insisted the wedding had to be held here." I took the file from her, and my gaze stopped on the venue name. The church in Clairmont. The very church I had mentioned to my husband countless times, the place I had dreamed of more than anything else. I was just about to smile and marvel at how someone in this world shared my taste so perfectly when the groom's name leapt into view. Victor Langford. My fingers froze on the page. Across from me, the girl was still wrapped in her happiness. She added gently, "We've only been together for two months, but he said he wants to give me the best wedding possible." I curved my lips into a smile and fixed my eyes on that familiar face—the man I had lived with for five years. After all this time, the day I planned Victor's wedding had finally arrived. Too bad the bride wasn't me.

My best friend, Cecilia Vick, "loved" me so much she hooked up with my husband, Luther Boyd, in the pajamas I bought her. Then sent me the video. [Did you enjoy it?] I left her on read. After watching that trash-fire masterpiece, I posted it online for twenty bucks. Sharing is caring, right? Then I put my phone on airplane mode and headed into the mountains with my team for fieldwork. A week later, I turned my signal back on. Boom. 999+ messages. Then Cecilia called. She was full-on spiraling. "I'm begging you! Delete the video. Now!"

On the third day of the Cold War with my boyfriend, I found a document called "Love of My Life" on his computer. Every word is considered, true feelings, and the heroine is his first love.

On the day my marriage ended, the entire Vale family was celebrating my husband’s mistress for carrying the “heir” I had failed to give them. For five years, they called me barren. For five years, I protected Damian Vale’s pride while his mother humiliated me piece by piece. For five years, I played the perfect Luna while they prepared to replace me. So I smiled, opened the family group chat, and sent the one document that shattered everything. Damian Vale. Male. Congenital azoospermia. Permanent infertility. The room went silent. Then I looked at the people who had fed on my humiliation and said, “I was never the one who failed this family.”