Zabini Harry Potter Novels & Stories

- good thing he didn't use them. You can't be a bad girl/boy if you have a phobia - I fear NOTHING. You aren't bad unless you aren't scared to call He-who-must-not-be-named by his name. - ha Tom Riddle (without the Marvolo, I like defying him.) You aren't bad unless you have a code name. -I've been called Tink, Cece, Diary take your pick. You aren't bad unless if you wrote an autobiography, it would be a pretty epic one. -I'm calling mine, The Bad Girl Wears Pink [the story of Secret Nolan].

"Zaddy," That wasn't the name. Where that one had come from, he had no idea. But it was like she just emptied a tank of gasoline on his fire, and he wanted to explode. He abruptly shot up, lifting her with him in the process, like she was a feather. He plunged her back into the soft leather seat converted to bed, panting hot breaths on her face, piercing into her soul, "What did you just call me?" Taking aback, Shola clasped her palm over her mouth. Zaddy was a term she'd always used to refer to a Zayn Malik looking kind of sugar daddy; her kind of man. A man like Solano Vicenze.

“Hi.” “Hey,” We all greet back and Zana walks to his side. “Studying the flowers again, huh? An assignment?” He nods at her question, “Yeah. It’s due tomorrow- Who are they though? They don’t belong to this Pack right?” He refers to us and Zana smiles, “Yeah. They’re my best friends, Zainab and Yumi,” She introduces us, pointing accordingly but I notice that when she points at me, Harvey’s eyes go wide in shock for a moment before he composes himself and forces on a smile.

"Woah, were you Minnie, the birthday girl?" Minerva hastily looked at her right when she heard another voice asked. It was a little girl that was around four to five years old. Her light pink hair was in pigtails and her green jeweled eyes shone with curiosity. As for Minerva, although it was also a child who was in front of her, she was still a bit nervous. Especially that strange Marcus was here. She gripped on Julia's skirt as she nodded her head to the little girl. "Wow! Hello, Minnie! I'm Zinnia Soleil Zielony! I'm four years old! My father's Raphael Sol Zielony! And he was the youngest first-generation Saint Archmage!" The little girl, who was Zinnia, proudly said.

“F*cking tw*t! If he dared to lay a finger on Aino, I would strap a bomb to myself. I will not be called Zayn Smith if I don’t blow him up into ashes!” Only then did Nigel know that something had happened at Sebastian and Sabrina’s end. Both Nigel and Minerva then followed Zayn to Sebastian’s house, and they saw Sebastian was completely dumbfounded. Sabrina, on the other hand, was slightly calmer than Sebastian. She still knew to take care of him.

I purred. Her eyes lit up, "Caden you know just what makes me happy. I'll be quick," she says making her way toward the pack house and I couldn't help but smile. As I made my way out of the crowd to a quieter section near the edge of the ceremony grounds, my eyes caught what was unbelievable. I saw Tyrion, Alpha Bastian's son, on his knees behind a cluster of bushes. His head was bobbing rhythmically as he eagerly worked his mouth over the hard length of a boy from what looked like Firstfell pack.

Zahra's POV Sabrina, Kelly, and Rosa. Otherwise known as the High Heel Hyenas. They’ve made my school life a slow, stupid kind of torture since I set foot in high school. Here’s the part that would surprise most people. I’m actually a brainiac.

He was lazily holding his jar and chugged it down from time to time. "For a Rein, he's a pain in the-" Barbie threw Zabdiel a glance, her fingers where clenching as a warning. "Speak a foul and I'll rip your innards out, Diel." Zabdiel gulped down the word he was going to say. "Head. He's a pain in the head." Nobody made a comment when Neptos Rein closed in their space and leaned his huge body against the doorframe. "What are you doing here, brats?"

We were a weapon. And we were ready. Headmistress Morwen sat on her chair, her fingers trembling around a silver chalice. Across her, the air twisted—and Harry stepped through, not from the door, but from the dark itself. He didn’t smile. He didn’t speak. He only stared at her. “Why couldn't you stop her from performing the ritual?" He finally asked. Harry stepped forward, his boots silent on the stone. “You think she is the threat?” “She’s unstable,” Headmistress Morwen said. “Her power is growing beyond containment. Without the bond, she’s a wildfire with no boundaries. And you know what happens when that kind of power is unleashed.”

“Okay, this is getting ridiculous. Wanna know what happened? The email. That’s what.” Lucas looked genuinely confused. “Email? What email?” Zehra faltered. “The email you sent,” “What the fu–” “Don’t swear!” she exclaimed, covering her ears. The teacher stopped fangirling about Harry Potter and turned to them. Lucas straightened. “Ms. Evans, we were just discussing how the masterpiece of JK Rowling contain absolutely no swear words except in the last book, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, when Molly Weasley swears at Bellatrix Lestrange for duelling with her daughter Ginny.”