[Book One: Brotherhood Series] There was no mystery to Milo Fleamont Potter, even if he was not the Boy-Who-Lived. He was the boy-who-survived. He was the boy that lost his parents and in many ways, lost his brother the same night that Voldemort attacked the Potter household. He was not graced with a scar, he did not bore a striking resemblance to his parents, but he held their stride and their attitude, even at a young age. A prophecy was not thrust upon him, but he had his own destiny to fulfill. [Cover by -voidlegends ]

The war is over, however not all went to plan. Many died. Too many. Harry and his friends are some of the few survivors of the Order of the Phoenix, and after the war, attempt to live normal lifes. However, it seems fate doesn't want them to.

The death of their friend has left scars on everyone. While Harry's friends pull together as a group, the young man responsible for bringing them together has descended into darkness and begins following a path that he had thought he'd left behind. Sequel to Harry Potter and the Heir of Slytherin.

Eidetic Memory is the ability to remember everything you have ever done, seen, smelled, tasted and touched. To some it is a gift; to others a curse. For Harry Potter, it's both. For as long as he can remember, Harry Potter has been waiting for the day that he would receive his Hogwarts letter. Now the time has finally come for him to attend the most prestigious magical academy in all of Britain. The time has finally come to make his mark on the world. However, between striving to prove himself as a powerful and intelligent wizard, entering the world of pureblood politics at the tender age of 11, and struggling to determine where the line between being helpful and being manipulative must be drawn, Harry is going to have his hands full. And wait. What's this about a powerful stone with the ability to grant immortality on the third floor corridor? A rendition of "Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone" with some major AU changes. Featured in the official Wattpad @Fanfic Harry Potter Fanfiction reading list

Kyna Jocelyn Graham is unusually talented and intelligent, much to her mother's unending and embarrassing horror. For sixteen years Kyna's mother has been desperately trying to stamp out any traces of the man who is her father. But she is unsuccessful and when Kyna's mother dies from breast cancer, Kyna is forced into custody with her biological father and on that same day, Sherlock Holmes receives a child he never wanted. She despises him and he cannot even tolerate her, but slowly, through thick and thin, they grow to respect each other. Kidnapped and afraid, in love and alone, angry and heartbroken: Kyna Holmes is the only Consulting Daughter in the world. And her special talents are put to the test when 'Uncle Jim' comes to play in his own twisted and maniacal way. [Don't copy this fanfic onto other pages or I will feed you to Smaug] DISCLAIMER: I don't own the original BBC Sherlock characters used in this story. They are the property of their creators.

"Because you've forgotten what it's like to actually feel something." I whispered. Peter's expression softened and the only sounds between us were the steady unsynchronized breaths falling from our lips. He swallowed, the closeness of our bodies making my heart beat faster and adrenaline course through me. The feeling was neither pleasant nor unpleasant as I looked into his forest green eyes. "How can you make me feel so belittled with only words?" his troubled voice fell into a whisper and he gripped my shoulders. "Is it your goal to stand before me and pull me apart until I am nothing?"

In Elemental magic you can be one of four magic types; water, fire, earth, and air. The only problem is Violet is none of these things. Is she what they call a magic dud, or is she something rarer, more powerful, and more dangerous than anyone could have imagined!? Teasers, "Em, most girls sneak out for a boy, you sneak out for a unicorn." I began to cry as it reached for my face."No!" I screamed. "Please No!" I went to pull back the shower curtain, but some nagging thought in the back of my head stopped me. I didn't have a little brother, so why was there a little boy in my bathroom? I gulped and with shaking hands pulled back the shower curtain. "What!? How could that be!?" I yelled, and covered my hand with my mouth. Shouting wasn't such a good idea right at this moment. If someone heard us and came up here to investigate the noise we were making, they would find a boy and a girl, a bloody knife with both their finger prints on it, and a very very dead body. "Don't touch her!" he hissed and lunged at Henry. Running through the night wearing nothing but a flimsy hospital dress, while waving a dismembered hand in his hand, was a strangeness no regular person could hope to inspire to.