Black Wizard From Harry Potter Novels & Stories

he said, and he was grinning when I turned, and the grin was the one he wore when he was exactly where he wanted to be. He was using black magic. I was the fastest between us. Had always been the fastest. Whatever had moved him out of the way of that charge was not his natural speed, it was the wizard, operating from somewhere in these trees, giving him tools that were not his and that I had not accounted for in any version of how I had expected this to go. The wizard was here.

His helmet flew off, revealing the thin hood hidden beneath it, and beneath the hairline—a black tattoo crawling like ice cracks. “Black wizard,” I muttered—not in surprise, but in disgust at the audacity that had become routine: infiltrating, disguising, spying on others’ sorrows for filthy gain. He struggled, forming a string of words from the spell. “For death—” “Not for this morning,” Alpha King cut in. His knees held the wizard’s back; his left hand twisted his wrist, while his right hand pressed his shoulder until the movement lost its strength. The sound of cracking bones was followed by a loud scream from the black wizard.

Alpha Caleb nodded, and they both knew that they had to investigate. They pushed open the door, and a strong gust of wind blew through the room. The walls were covered in strange symbols, and there were jars filled with strange potions and powders lining the shelves. In the center of the room stood a figure, cloaked in black, with his back to them. Alpha Caleb stepped forward, his voice firm. "Who are you, and what are you doing here?" The figure turned slowly, revealing a face twisted with rage and malice. "I am the dark wizard," he said. "And I will not be banished so easily."

As the warlock lay on his bed, Satoshi the Baku stood at his head. Some people outside of Ravenclaw would feel uneasy around the Baku. With an elephant's head, large tusks, and horns, as well as his vicious tiger claws Satoshi was not a sight for the faint-hearted. Baku were the eaters of bad dreams, they had the ability to walk through one's mind, hunting for your nightmares and devouring them, leaving a person free to enjoy a peaceful dream. Sadly Satoshi was the last of his kind. After hunters wiped out whole villages of the gentle creatures in their ignorance, he had made his way to the Ravenclaw Academy and was now a permanent resident in the hallowed halls.

“Dogori! Come, my daughter is here and she remembers everything. It is owed all to your perfect work, of course.” Dogori soon joined them. Lord Jyris greeted him and he acknowledged it. Dogori was a wizard, dressed in black robes and a black blindfold tied over his eyes. The colour he was clothed in was a sharp contrast to White King. In his hand was a staff that was taller than he was which seemed to be made out of different tree branches twisted together. “It is a good day, your Majesty,” he said, stopping in front of them. He certainly couldn't see them, despite that, she felt like Dogori’s gaze lingered more on her.

Not fifteen minutes had passed when the devil walked in. My eyes met his cold brown ones, and I immediately regretted it when the image of last night came to mind. Neither of us said a word, and I continued my breakfast, pretending he wasn't there. He wore a pair of black jeans that hang loosely around his hips, a black shirt with rolled-up sleeves, and a black Adidas. What was this, the national black day? It suited him; though I assure you, his soul was darker still. "You'll get cold in that," He walked toward me and stuffed one of my strawberries into his mouth. A delicious smell consumed my nostrils. His perfume.

“Don’t worry, okay? Everything’s going to be alright.” I ask him about the mission, but he says that the Black Tiger is going to explain everything to me. Can you believe it? Everyone knows he doesn’t talk to anyone. I step outside, and see him riding a motorcycle in front of the building. He’s wearing a black silk shirt, opened to the chest, showing his pale skin. His hair is styled messily, with some strands covering his eyes. His gloved hands are on the grips, ready to start the vehicle. He turns his head and looks at me, and his dark stare makes my body shiver.

He struggled to resist the stop, his vitality draining away, darkness obscuring every corner of his vision. HeVox was a nightmare. This time he was standing in front of a large, black altar. Strange characters appeared everywhere. Above your head, a horned wizard floats in a large glowing disc, defying gravity with his magical powers. When Ragnar saw him floating. A beam of light passed through the wizard's clawed hand, but he made no threatening gesture. Ragnar raised his weapon but did not attack because he wanted to see what would happen. "What can my master give for your soul?" asked the wizard in a voice mixed with magic. 'What do you want? Think and it will be yours.''

They surrounded the group, wearing devilish smirks. "Master, we'll handle the annoying six and play with them. The Olmpha is yours," one of the men- a man with jade black hair and several scars on his otherwise handsome face- said with an alarming grin and the black-robed man immediately launched a ball of dark magic at him, instantly turning him to ashes. The other two looked unfazed as if this were everyday happenings. The idiot only had himself to blame for angering the master. However, Mel and co. were astonished. So easily, he... he turned someone into ashes? This was indeed a sorcerer. None of them was his match. What to do now?