[Harry Potter] 101 Ways to Sleep with Harry Potter Characters

I remembered an article I had read, in which Ariana was a magical girl. She went back in time and changed the tragedy. Albus did not meet Gellert. He lived a perfect life with no betrayal, no regrets, no remorse. However, in the end, Albus said that he felt that something was missing in his life. Although Gellert brought harm to Albus, he was an indispensable part of Albus's life.

It's actually quite good. I like this. Using love to get Sirius will fall into the cliche, because he is definitely not that kind of person.

Some time ago, everyone was prostituted. They are both male and female, some are sadistic, some fall in love calmly, some succeed in replacing Lily, some fail, and some don't care at all, because they and Lily are not the same people in the first place. However, who can proudly say that the professor is infatuated with him, regards him as his first love, and has never said anything bad to him? Just me. At that time, he was still young, maybe he didn't even know Lily, but he fell in love with me. He hid in a dark cabin, holding me in his arms, enduring the curses from men and women downstairs. He never gave up on me, and he often whispered to me the pain in his heart. I watched him grow up year by year and become more and more cynical, so I could only stay with him silently. Yes, I am the crucible that his mother brought from Prince's house. The crucible produced by the magical ancient family can increase the success rate of potions by 30% and the purity by 10.4%. He often scrubbed me back and forth in lonely nights, polishing me until I was shiny. I saw him going out that day and I knew he wouldn't come back. He didn't forget to turn off the fire, and he didn't forget to clean me out, yes, he didn't forget about me at a time like this, but I exploded in the middle, like a poor common cauldron at the hands of the Longbottom boy. In the next life, I will still be waiting for you, my black-haired boy.

I finally know how happy Dumbledore must be when he is walking around the castle - he can hold the castle in his sleeves, like a father protecting his child, and like a child protecting his mother. Eleven thousand likes.

I like this Mary Sue so much

I have been reading the articles of girls on my mobile phone for a while, which makes me really happy and excited. I don't read much online articles, but I didn't expect that there are so many true AD fans on the legendary JJ, and they even form a group. The writing also surprises and touches me from time to time. I just registered in Jinjiang two days ago, so I came here on a whim to join in the fun and make a fool of myself. I hope it won't be too suspenseful. Please be careful if you abuse me. Please forgive me for being verbose. Thank you again for your excellent work. By the way, we will collectively urge you to make various updates^-^ Cleaning (Female Dumbledore) My name is Meliam Straw, and I am a healer at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Maladies. I am in charge of the Curse Injury Department on the fifth floor, and I am good at treating various curses and black magic injuries. Since I was very young, I have loved the smell of cleaning potions. This smell permeates every corner of St. Mungo's and makes me feel very familiar. St. Mungo's is an interesting and sad place. Here you can find all sorts of interesting ailments, such as dragon pox, endless laughter, and walnuts stuffed in the nostrils. There are also some sad situations. For example, I still remember the child who was bitten by a werewolf. I can never forget his desperate expression when he heard that he had become a werewolf. But I will not talk about this feeling to others, nor will I allow myself to be immersed in this melancholy mood for too long, because I am a therapist and I know better. I know that vain sadness will not help. I would rather let my mind focus more on how to cure the patient. I will always remember the only patient of mine who had any chance of recovery but died, Broderick Bird, suffocated by a devil's net. Even though it was murder, I still blamed myself for not discovering the horrific truth beneath the plant's harmless exterior. As a therapist, I should know better. I regret that I forgot Professor Sprout's teachings. I don't want to experience this kind of inner pain again, and I don't want to see the sad eyes like Mrs. Bode's. Therefore, I must be rational, calm, and strong, and have the power to relieve the pain of others. My closest friends would say that although I may be friendly and enthusiastic on the surface, when it comes to solving problems, I am calm, calm and rational to the point of being cold. I just smiled and said nothing about this comment, but I felt it made sense in my heart. It reminded me of a person who is quite similar to me in this regard. You may not believe it, but it is true. The first thing that flashed in my mind was indeed this man - the great Albus Dumbledore. On the eve of graduation, I was still a silly child who would cry in fear when seeing small animals bleeding, but I really yearned for the profession of therapist. I worry that my excess of compassion and emotion is not suited to this profession, and I know you don't want to see a therapist who bursts into tears as he watches your condition worsen. After worrying for a long time, I finally plucked up the courage to knock on Principal Dumbledore's door. Dumbledore patiently listened to my worries, and the gleam in his blue eyes kept encouraging me to continue. Then he said to me: "Reasonability, strength, compassion, and sympathy are the qualities that go hand in hand in a therapist. Sympathy and warmth do not mean weakness, and you don't need to be ashamed of them. On the contrary, they show the richness and breadth of your heart, because you are not using indifference and hardness to avoid harm, but being frank and honest." Face and feel them naturally. But you must also remember not to let excess emotions interfere with your reason and behavior. Sometimes you will have to hide your emotions deeply in your heart and try to face the facts calmly instead of letting your emotions explode, because in many cases, only this can solve the problem better. " I looked at him for a long time, letting the meaning of this sentence sink into my heart, nodded, and then a question that I shouldn't ask came to my lips: "Professor Dumbledore, have you ever encountered such a moment? I mean, a moment of entanglement between emotion and reason?" Dumbledore didn't answer, which made me feel that I must have crossed that invisible boundary. But he didn't look angry, he just glanced at a photo on the table. I boldly took a quick glance at the photo, but I only saw a hazy shadow of blond hair. The days of working at St. Mungo's flew by like a spell, and through the years of laughter and tears, I found myself becoming more and more like the person he told me to be. Later, Dumbledore founded the Order of the Phoenix and I joined it. Unlike other members of the Order of the Phoenix, Dumbledore doesn't want me to charge around. Of course, my busy work makes it difficult for me to have this time. My main tasks were to treat injured Order members and gather intelligence at St. Mungo's. I rushed to the dying Marlene McKinnon, but she eventually died of her injuries. I have seen Edgar Bones being carried by his sister Amelia Bones, only to find him dead. I have never seen the strong Amelia so lost. However, when I found out that the Longbottoms had gone insane after waking up from a coma, I finally couldn't bear it any more and cried loudly on Dumbledore's shoulders who came after hearing the news. Dumbledore was silent for a long time, his blue eyes filled with tears. Later, he came to visit the Longbottoms once a year. As their chief therapist, I could only regretfully tell him every time that we tried our best to maintain their basic life, but their sanity still did not improve. I really hate this feeling of powerlessness but there is nothing I can do about it. Dumbledore's blue eyes are always dim at this time, but they tell me that some wounds can never be completely healed. All we can do is do our best, then face the facts calmly, learn to survive with the incompleteness, and live with their hope. I sincerely hope that little Neville Longbottom, sitting next to Dumbledore with one hand in Dumbledore's and a candy wrapper in the other, knows that those words were meant for him too. One summer day in 1996, Dumbledore came to see me at St. Mungo's again, but this time he was not visiting a patient. He said he just wanted to chat with me. He looked at the tumor specimen that I had removed from a patient using complicated magic, and said softly: "It's really a nasty thing, isn't it?" "Yes, you see, they will only desperately occupy resources, grow wildly regardless of the consequences, and occupy the body arrogantly in their own way, just like Voldemort." He smiled and sighed: "Indeed, I think I understand why you said that. Voldemort is indeed very much like a cancer cell. He expands himself in a way that goes against human nature and social laws. He wants to make the world run in his way, and crazily destroys everything that hinders him." "Sometimes I think that his crazy behavior is to clean up the world, clean up everything he thinks is low-level and unworthy of existing in the world, and establish a new order with his will. But proper removal of the old and innovation is conducive to the health of the body, and too strong a change will only bring death." I said thoughtfully. "It is true that breaking the balance can clean up the filth of the old world, but it would be a big mistake to use the terror of indiscriminate killing of innocents and a wanton unitary rule. Every individual life has dignity and cannot be killed at will. The diversity of the world cannot be forcibly erased. People who love life and the world will not tolerate him doing this. We should try our best to rebuild a new balance in this world with the power of peace and healing, just like a therapist does to the body." I looked at him with a smile, "Albus, sometimes I think you are like a therapist, a therapist in the magical world. You see, you are always cleaning the darkness, rebuilding stability, and bringing peace to the world." Dumbledore smiled faintly, but I saw sadness in that smile. "Thanks, but maybe I'm not that much of a therapist because I won't be able to do this myself." He showed me his right hand in his sleeve. I used all my restraint to suppress the sobs rolling in my throat, but my eyes were still filled with tears. But he looked at me and smiled, "Oh, come on, my dear old friend, you have seen too many injuries, haven't you? This is just one of them, and it happened to an old guy who has lived long enough?" "Oh, no, Albus..." "I originally thought that you would be the one who could look at my hands calmly, but now I can't stand the pity in Severus's eyes every time he loses his temper with me." He still had that damn smile on his face. "I'm sorry Albus, I..." I felt that if I said one more word, tears would definitely flow out of my eyes. "Don't be stupid, my dear friend." He put his left hand around my shaking shoulders and tried to comfort me, as if he was not the one with only one year left to live. "Why, is this happening?" "Voldemort's dark magic, I was finally confused by the surge of emotions and made a mistake..." Dumbledore said softly. He held my shoulders until my trembling shoulders calmed down completely. "Okay, Meliam, don't pity an old man who has lived for more than a century. He has arranged everything behind him and knows that his treatment plan will eventually be completed and the people he loves will survive, so there is nothing to regret. Leave your sympathy to those who need it. Take care of everyone in the Order of the Phoenix and take care of every innocent life. This is my last request to you." I looked at him and said softly but firmly: "I will definitely do it." "One last thing, protect yourself and do everything you can to survive. There are too many people who need you to live to heal them." "I swear I will." "Thank you." Dumbledore looked at me tenderly with his blue eyes, and I tried my best not to think that this might be the last time I saw him. After Dumbledore's footsteps moved away, I finally couldn't control myself anymore and stumbled into the room inside. My usually calm brain is now in chaos, and I need anything boring and cold to divert my attention and relieve this strong emotional rage, anything that has nothing to do with curses, wars, or death. I casually grabbed a Muggle medical science book that I bought out of curiosity not long ago, flipped through a few pages irritably, and then a paragraph jumped into my eyes: "... In the body's defense mechanism against cancer cells, there is a type of cell we call lymphocytes. Through various deformations, it grows into the guardian of life. Once it finds an intruder that disrupts the balance of the body, this cell will spare no effort to kill them, but its own life will also end..." No, he is not a therapist after all. We therapists rarely expose ourselves to danger. We always treat from the perspective of objective outsiders, but rarely go deep into it, or even risk our lives and self-sacrifice. Tears gradually blurred my eyes. One day in the spring of 1998, Death Eaters suddenly attacked St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Injuries and Injuries because their owners believed that the mentally ill, disabled, and hemps here were not worthy of staying in the world and should be cleansed. Voldemort wanted St. Mungo's to be under his control and to serve as a healing center for Death Eater armies rather than for those who resisted. Therapists and relatives of patients at St. Mungo's fought back. Meliam Straw fought bravely in this battle and ultimately died heroically. The patient next to her heard her last murmur, which seemed to be, I'm sorry I couldn't make it to the end. After the war, some of her former patients built a tombstone for her, which read: Healed here, may you find peace. Her replacement after the war was a young therapist named Draco Malfoy. Original character information: Meliam Straw is an elderly therapist with a filigree wreath on her head. She is the chief therapist of Balde, Lockhart and Longbottom. She failed to discover that the plant given to Bald was a devil's net. Miriam is a Hebrew word that means the ocean of sorrow and suffering. A Hebrew prophetess once used this name.

Hahahahaha, the Sorting Hat is so scheming. Did the principal do a great health care at the end? 2333

Oh my god, I can do this Mary Sue.

Hhhhhhhhhh Albus wants to punish himself! So touching. . . The comments downstairs are really cool

When I saw Fox transformed into a human form, I burst out laughing. 23333 Seemed a bit emotional, hahaha. Fox x Nagini xxx came to mind.