What Does Voldemort Look Like In The Books Novels & Stories

He placed a kiss to my forehead and opened up the book to another page before pushing it to me. There was a colored portrait drawn of a creature that was tall and slender. Its skin was a greyish color with unhealthy veins running down his neck into his old-fashioned clothing. It looked like what royalty of centuries long past would wear. Its eyes were the worst part. They were pure black, but there was something hidden within them that you could not see but could sense. It was pure evil, and part of me wanted to run from the room screaming.

Then I saw it. A silver glow approaching, I couldn't scream as it grew near. One moment the monster was before me, the other moment I felt it beside me. My eyes widened in horror as I saw what I couldn't describe. This wasn't a wolf, it was something different. Red veins like vines down its eyes and fangs that weren't wolf-like, they were shorter and sharper. But then everything changed as it peered at me then removed the gag from my mouth while his hand gently stroked my cheek. I found my body reaching toward it. My mind was screaming to back away but my body craved it.

The face that was staring back at him twisted into a creepy smile. Had he become that? His black hair was very long and he hung straight, framing a pale countenance in which the bone structure could be clearly seen because the flesh was consumed. His eyes were sunken, haggard holes, though his gaze was more penetrating than ever, as if he could pierce through a man and see his soul. Something inside him made her pick up the notebook with her gloved hands; maybe that part of him that had always wanted to be the Viktor Drichey that had murdered his friend just to bring him back to life.

he clears a throat. I tilt my head up, only to my surprise; right in front of me is an elderly man. It's no average man with no average height, but a huge man. I mean, this man is more significant than a giant. He wore white and gold clothing, had long white wavy hair and a beard covering his whole chin, and had golden eyes, but he was different from Dominic. This man's eyes shine like the sun. It's like looking at Albus Dumbledore from Harry Potter.

Hogwarts Castle, Somewhere in the Scottish Highlands November 23rd, 1992, 11:12 AM Erik commented and continued to watch, as an eerie and raspy voice ordered Quirrel to 'use the boy'. Quirrell then ordered the boy to look at the mirror. Mr. Potter then stood in front of the mirror and Erik paused again. He quickly positioned himself behind the boy and 'unpaused' the memory. He watched as the boy's reflection took a red ruby-like stone from its pants' pocket, showed it to him, gave him a wink and put the stone back in the pocket. Mr. Potter then, as sneaky as an elephant in a china store could be, checked his pocket and noticed the bulge in it. But the stupid professor didn't seem to notice.

' like what Moaning Myrtle had said to Tom Riddle, but I lost my footing and stumbled right into a solid wall of muscles. "Sorry," I quickly said once I steadied myself. As soon as I looked up, I caught my breath. He was handsome. Like really, really handsome. Even more handsome than Tom Riddle in Chamber of Secret or Cedric Diggory in Goblet of Fire. His dark eyes stared back at me and the smile on his face made my heart beat faster "Yeah, no problem." He smiled. I looked down at his hands, still holding my waists, and he immediately dropped them to his sides. Although judging by the look on his face, he didn't look sorry at all.

You've never seen his wolf, she said. Was that true? Vuko has that silky blue-black hair, brooding obsidian eyes. The wolf in the alley had been big and blue-black. Vuko was always tall, but four years ago he still had the gangly look all the teen boys had. He was clumsy and would knock things over as if he still thought he was pup-size. Now, though. Now he has filled out. Even though he looks half-starved from wherever he has been, his shoulders are broader, his legs longer, his jaw more square. He looks like a hunter.

Riven's POV Vrael appeared at the edge of the Keepers' territory and my world tilted sideways. He looked like a wolf. That was the most horrifying part. He was recognizable as one of us. But everything was wrong. Too large. Easily the size of a bear. Limbs too long and bent at angles that should not have been possible. His fur was matted and dark. Patches of it missing to reveal skin that looked burned and scarred. His eyes were worst. They burned with fire that was not natural. Not golden like an Alpha. Not even the silver of ancient power.

My mind flashes back to the guys I was fighting the last time, and I move closer to the table. “Can you describe what he looked like? The guy you said you saw?” I ask her. “He was super tall, he had a hood up, but when he looked at me he looked lost, like he was frazzled and searching. He has amber-colored eyes and a mark on the side of his face, almost like a burn mark?” “Werewolves don’t scar,” Tatum says through a mouthful of leftover tiramisu. I arch a brow at her, calling her bluff, and she turns pink.