A Professor of Magic at Hogwarts - Chapter 417: Dobby and Winky

After living in a desolate land, where there wasn’t even a single blade of grass and hunger was an everyday reality, Min Sung finally returns to Earth: his home.

The more ruthless the Palace is, the more miserable the loser will end up—this he understands. But what he does not understand is, why the brother whom he lived together with peacefully in the past, would so heartlessly humiliate him today. Asking him to beg for mercy, asking him to succumb to his knees, and even… asking him to tactfully entertain him. “Yong Shan, ah, Yong Shan, as of today you are the one who qualifies to succeed as a Crown Prince, what exactly is it that you want?”

For the past 16 years, Yong Qi’s gaze was never set on him. Despite being twins with his younger brother, Yong Lin, Yong Qi has always been directing his smile and laughter towards Yong Lin, and to him, Yong Qi deliberately alienates him. He does not understand, they have the same features and looks, and he obviously is his brother too, but why won’t he be intimate with him… as if he is humiliating him. “Yong Qi, ah, Yong Qi, why won’t you understand, what I want is very simple…”

- Description from Novelupdates

Chloe died in the zombie apocalypse and woke up as a rare pureblood vampire child, as well as the daughter of the progenitor vampire.

Pureblood vampire children have delicate skin and fragile nature. They can only obtain inhuman strength after their bloodline awakens when they become adults. Pureblood vampire children have always needed good protection over the years.

Chloe (tearing apart a bull with one bite): What did you say?

Everyone: …

With treasures in hand, feet on the throne, sweeping away werewolves, getting rid of her tr*sh dad, this was Chloe’s creed.

However, on her path to domination and authority, there would always be some problems that gave her a headache.

“Miss Chloe, from the first day I saw you, I fell deeply in love with you.”

“Miss Chloe, if possible, may I have the honor of building a beautiful relationship with you?”

“Miss Chloe, could you really not consider me?”

In response, Chloe disposed of admirers one by one with her blade, and said coldly: Those without enough capability, don’t even think about getting close.

Three rejections. Three shattered dreams. That was Layla’s reality, all because she was different—a half-shifter in a world obsessed with purity. Ostracized, shunned, and finally sold off like a pawn to the most feared ruler alive—the Lycan King. He was ruthless, a king with a graveyard of brides, each one a ghostly reminder of a fate worse than death.Layla loathed him. Hated the way his gaze cold and fathomless, held no warmth for her. Hated how his touch, both thrilling and terrifying, sent an uninvited chill down her spine.---“I hate you!” I screamed, hands clenched so tight my knuckles ached.He sighed, a smirk curling at the edge of his lips, his tone mocking as he closed his book with a deliberate snap. “Stressed, are we?” he asked, strolling toward me, each step reminding me exactly who held the power here.“Lucky for you,” he drawled, rolling up his sleeves as he stopped just inches away, “I know exactly 70 ways to ease those nerves.” His fingers brushed my cheek, a touch that seemed to burn into my skin. “The first… a hug.” His voice dropped to a rough whisper as he leaned in, breath hot against my ear. “And the rest... well, that's 69? what do you say about that?”I swallowed hard, my heart thudding wildly as he tilted his head, waiting for me to react, that insufferable smirk still in place.“What’s the matter, darling?” he murmured, a taunt lingering in his gaze.---A Dangerous ObsessionCan she resist the pull, or will she dance into the flames of her own destruction?A dark dive into obsession, raw need, and the razor’s edge between desire and devastation.---LYCAN KING CASSIANI will tear her apart piece by piece, feeding the wildfire that grips her with each shuddered breath. Like air to flame, I’ll claim every inch, drawing heat from her skin until it sinks into her bones.Her pulse will race under my hands, her breaths shallow, pleading. Her eyes may scream, but her lips will still murmur my name. That first taste of fear will only feed something deeper—a need that burns through her veins, molten and fierce.And just when she’s too far gone to turn back, I’ll twist the knife, giving her the pain she’s learned to crave.She’ll be the moth to my flame, helpless against the very thing that will consume her.