Blood Quill Harry Potter Novels & Stories

He frowned, realizing that he was slowly being surrounded by the malicious spirits. Just as Harry found himself cornered, Kim rushed onto the battlefield, a massive cloth sack slung over his shoulder and a handful of magical potions that Maria had prepared earlier gripped tightly in his hands. His eyes swept the battlefield, and seeing Harry being relentlessly pushed back by the vengeful spirits, he wasted no time. He pulled out several vials of potion and hurled them toward the surrounding spirits without hesitation. He actions were erratic, almost reckless, as he tossed the bottles seemingly at random. But fate was on his side—several vials struck the shadowy apparitions, and in an instant

Spell books, poultices, elixirs and potions were arranged on the other side but Aurelia was nowhere to be found. What I saw instead was a large vault, placed at the end of room, at the back of the wide concrete slab. The glass vault contained a bubbling substance, but this substance wasn't chemical as it should have been, it was blood. Aurelia's blood! That was where the scent came from! "Well, well, well. Look who we have here"

"Alaric keeps it locked, but the door was open and I saw it and I thought - Mira, it's a Duskbane quill. Your family's. It signs automatically once it touches paper. You don't even have to -" I took it. The weight was wrong for a feather. It was bone, polished and carved with runes so fine they disappeared when you looked directly at them, visible only in peripheral vision. The particular craftsmanship of a bloodline that had learned to write contracts with powers that didn't negotiate in spoken language. I pressed the quill to the first notebook that reached me. It moved.

Heath stood slowly, leaving the grimoire on the table, and came to stand behind her. “It does this,” she took one of the candles that she had lit and set the flame to the line of ash and blood. It flared to life, like a strip of magnesium, sizzling along the pentagram, etching the design into the cardboard before extinguishing. “And, voila! A spell trap for keeping freaky creatures.” Heath produced a handkerchief and wrapped it around her still bleeding finger. “So, what next?”

I close the old book and read the inscriptions on the grimoire dark green cover. 'BLOOD IS KEY.' They weren't just inscriptions. They were instructions. Immediately I understood what I needed to do. I pricked my thumb with my ear ring and poured droplets of my blood on the blank pages and I was shocked by what happened next. The previously blank pages were no longer empty. Suddenly writings in crimson blood formed filling up all the pages. Dixie was right, they weren't hidden, just waiting for me to discover.

"Don't touch anything." Harriet said yes with a hug of her knees. "You're scared." "I'm cautious," I corrected. "That's different." It wasn't different. Not really. I lit a candle and placed the vial beside the candle. And I began the test--crushing herbs, heating them, and dropping them on the blood, and watching that. The blood of Lucius responded immediately. The herbs turned black. My heart leapt. This was not normal. I tried another test. A magic spell which segregated illness and magic. The blood foamed and was then torn in two, one normal and one reeking with dark streaks, like the fibres of a small thread that had been broken.

"Check again..." Mariana, as well as the others, quickly turned around to check the injured's desks but something had already changed. The spilled ink and the scorched quill were still on the floor. The blood, however, magically disappeared. "Anti-cheating quills," Theresa said loudly, enough for everyone to hear. "'Explodes' whenever someone attempts cheating while using it. Never hurts, but it puts anyone nearby under an illusion that the user's hand exploded with the quill. It was created by the Elves."

It has been a very long time since I had fresh human blood as I only use animal blood, but I think I need it right now. Returning, she places a world chart on the floor. She takes the brush she found in Hailey’s bathroom and takes some hair from it. Placing the hair in a bowl, she takes a knife and makes a small cut into her palm, squeezing the blood into the bowl. Mixing the blood and the hair in the bowl, she chants, then she takes her blood-shocked hand and holds it over the chart, letting the blood drip onto it. We waited but nothing was happening. The blood just lay there, it did not move.

But right now, my main focus was reaching the cellar, where a combination of musky air and the metallic tang of blood greeted me. As I enter the room, the coppery smell of blood hits me like a wall. The floor is slick with it, and I struggle to keep my feet steady as I approach Cal’s limp body. His breathing is shallow as I leave footprints along the floor, making my way over to him. “Cal?” My voice is barely a whisper, but he doesn’t respond. I focus my magic, calling for bandages to wrap around his wrists where he has been bleeding profusely. The white fabric materialises in my hands as I frantically wrap his wrists, but it quickly becomes saturated with deep red stains. I keep wrapping, h

“Go on, little witch. Show me you’re worthy of belonging… or prove to everyone that you are exactly what you seem: an outsider who doesn’t even know the rules.” The nail felt oddly warm in her hand, like it was humming with a heartbeat of its own. Seraphine hesitated, then pressed it into her palm. It stung sharply, but the pain was brief almost as if the wound had already started to fade even as she dragged the nail down. She winced, but held her hand steady as the crimson line opened. At once, the waiting quill shimmered brighter, its feather rustling as if eager. Sera dipped the tip into her blood and bent toward the parchment.