Madi's slumber party is suddenly terrorized by a harmless dare.

{𝗕𝗼𝗼𝗸 3} It is a known fact that Crookshanks was helping Sirius Black to capture Pettigrew in his rat form, back in Harry Potter's third year at Hogwarts. But what if Crookshanks was a human just like Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs? What if she was James Potter's twin sister? And why did Dumbledore do almost everything in his power to keep her identity a secret from Harry? This is the forgotten story of Jenna Potter. *** WARNING: Mature and sensitive content ahead [Marauder's Era] [OC's age: 15-21]

Sequel to Newtmas Texts! Highly suggest reading that story before this one. After Newt dies, Thomas isn't the same. He blames himself even though Newt told him not to. Everyday he writes a letter to Newt, telling him what's been happening. Then a break through in science happens and it may just change Thomas' life for the best.

In a dark and deep land lives young Marjorie, a woman desperate for something more than her conventional life in her tiny village, Core. She aches for something dangerous, something like the dark forest, Mirkwood, which borders her home. Yet, there is a curse which haunts her people: a Wolf. For the last eighteen years, he takes one innocent life. Fate seems to change at the hands of Vivian, a Wardeness who promises Core a safe passage through Mirkwood. For a moment, Marjorie has everything she has ever wanted: An escape from a fate set in stone... until the Wolf set its dark intentions on her. Now, she is forced to decide: Will she defeat the Wolf or will she willingly be devoured? __________________ The stranger turned to face her. This close, it was easy to see his handsome features. From his high cheekbones to his piercing gray eyes, he was unlike any sully-faced villager. Instead, he wore his beauty with a casual grace, as if he were clueless to the plumpness of his lips or the flat, smooth surface of his chest. "Am I a what?" The man cocked a thick, dark brow up. He pushed his right hand into the pocket of his trousers, but not before Marjorie caught a glimpse of the heavy jewels on his fingers. He drowned in an opulence few villagers could afford. "I take that as a no," she said. "What is your name, stranger?" He looked to her, and then his gaze traveled to where men and women continued to fling themselves around the heat of the bonfire. You don't belong here, she thought.