Why Does Harry Potter Have A Scar Novels & Stories

Lorenzo suddenly spoke up: "I'm getting this scar removed." I looked up curiously. "Why now?" "Maybe you'll like me better without it." I was confused. He glanced awkwardly at Edward's tombstone. "You loved him, didn't you?" I laughed. "What are you thinking? I was just telling him we're done. Even if there's a next life, I don't want him to find me again." Lorenzo visibly relaxed. But when we got home, he immediately scheduled surgery to remove his scar.

He turned when he heard me enter, concern flashing in his gaze. “Leila,” he said softly. “You look troubled.” I bit my lip. “I… I found something.” I pulled up my sleeve, revealing the raised scar on my forearm. “This has always been here. But today, I saw” I held my arm under the lantern light. “a shimmer, as though magic still clings to it.” Henry stepped closer, examining the scar. His brow furrowed. “Let me see.” He gently prodded the skin, and I felt a faint warmth, but the shimmer was gone.

I got a few years ago when I tried cooking dinner for Harry and some of his friends. I had invited Viv as well, and I slipped while slicing tomatoes and cut my wrist so badly that blood went everywhere. Harry and Viv rushed me to the hospital, and I got some stitches. It healed well, but it left this thin, crooked scar that looks like a spine. All this time, I’ve been hiding who I am with a new name, a new face, a whole new life, and yet I never once remembered that this scar might betray me. Now Vivienne has seen it, and judging from the way she reacted, I know she won’t let it go.

"Maybe that's why this feels like a story. Like I'm just a character waiting for the author to start the next chapter." "Then let's start it," Skylar said. He helped me sit up, piling pillows behind my back. As he moved, the sleeve of his shirt slid up, revealing a faint, jagged scar on his forearm. It looked like a bite mark. "What's that?" I asked, pointing to it. Skylar quickly pulled his sleeve back down, his expression hardening for a split second before the mask of calm returned. "An old injury. From a hunt. It’s nothing for you to worry about."

"Where did you run off to? I told you to wait for me inside your room, didn't I?" Agnes didn't answer her mother and stared directly at her pale green eyes. Her eyes are a carbon copy of her mom's. Everyone in the town admires their silvery green pigment and she felt rather proud about it. She got her small apple face from her mother also and her scarlet hair from her father. She is one of the beauties in their schools. Although they are not rich, they believed that their beauty can compare to those on the top. That's what she used to think until he came.

Although Granny was worried, she didn’t dare inform her of the disturbing facts she’s innocent with. She even doubted that Z had any idea of this scar’s occurrence, proven by her shadow’s insistence to subject Z in an experiment. It included putting her in a tube where she’d been scanned, identifying each part of her body that might have been damaged without them knowing. However, it’s the scar that intrigued them the most, for it was causing internal bleeding without even cutting any of Z’s flesh. What did it mean? Desperate to see some light, she tried acquiring as many books possible that’s heavily connected to a scar. This she read every night, noting each of the new information she lear

Elijah mind linked the five in question, instantly summoning them to the meeting room. “Can I also get a knife drenched in wolfsbane?” Scarlett asked suddenly. “What for?” Elijah asked. “To show them why I have no mark on me.” She said looking up into his eyes. He shook his head, she didn’t have anything to prove… Why should she hurt herself to prove something to ignorant fools? “Please…” She added giving him a glare. “Oh, I’ll get that.” Harry Black said. Scarlett didn’t miss the venom in his eyes and knew he would make sure it was coated in wolfsbane, it was what she wanted anyway.

He was also wearing a napkin around his face like everyone out here but he radiated the energy of a leader. I gulped and stepped back when he walked towards me and bent down to my face level. His soaking hair was covering his eyes so he pushed them back with the help of his hand making my eyes go even wider when they landed on the scar on his right eye. The scar started from his eyebrow and ended on his upper cheek as if someone tried to damage his eye with a knife. A scar on the eye? The scar face. I was indeed right. He is their leader. "Where is that little boy?" He asked.

Hana questioned, but her words trailed off as I lightly traced the scar. It wasn’t too deep, and it was old. I know scars aren’t uncommon for humans, but this isn’t just any scar. This scar came from a werewolf claw. How’d she get it? Is the werewolf dead? Why wasn’t it healed? I thought they had healers in Bloodmoon. “It’s fine. Like I told Isak in Barcelona…” She gasped softly when I kissed the length of each claw mark. “It was from training, and I opted to keep the scar. I’m a hunter. Scars are part of that. Aunt Sarael has one from your…” She paused again, losing her train of thought as it wasn’t just me touching her.

There was one boy in particular that kept looking nervously her way. I walked to him. He was a scrawny looking kid, dark shaggy hair with brown eyes. Freckles covered his face and a scar that ran from his chin to his chest. Kneeling in front of him, “Where did you get that scar?” He looked shocked by my question for a minute before answering, “training.” “The only scars that stay on a body are those that are made by an alpha. Everything else fades.” I stated the fact. “Yes, sir. You are correct.” That made my blood boil.