Dark Harry Potter Novels & Stories

He muffled and stepped ahead towards me only in one piece of the towel covering his bottom. I stayed rooted to my spot, shivering on a thought that he could harm me as he now knew what I had just found out about him; his dark, ugly fantasy. “Wh—What—Is—This!” I gritted my teeth, hatred was concealing my bosom. I managed to stand up tall on my trembling legs. I was patting the pile of pictures on my other palm, my eyes were stuck on the ground as millions of emotions, thoughts, and reasons were blocking the processing of my brain at the moment.

They stop right outside of the door and I hear someone fiddle with some keys before placing them in the door and unlocking it. My heart is about to beat out of my chest and it starts to ring in my ears from me panicking. It feels like it takes forever, and I'm going to die from a heart attack before the door is slowly opened. I don't see anything else at first but some lights coming inside the room, then a tall and dark person appears in the doorway. I don't see his face in the darkness but I feel his cold aura even from where I stand. My legs are about to go out under me when I see him take long strides toward where I stand!

My heart felt heavy with anticipation and desperation. I’d been waiting a long time for this moment. Raising a hand, I knock on the weathered door, its surface adorned with symbols and sigils that pulsed with otherworldly energy. The hair along my arms rises as my knuckles rap against the wood. The door creaks open, revealing the interior shrouded in dim candlelight. Stepping inside, I find myself in a familiar room filled with an assortment of herbs, potions, and artifacts. The air is thick with the scent of incense, seeming to almost hum with a mysterious power. My wolf growls softly, the hair on the back of my neck rising.

The Lord of Dark had appeared. "Let! Me! Down!" I immediately shouted angrily at Archie. Archie paid no attention, and another thunderstorm descended directly toward The Lord of Dark. It was only then, amidst the thunderstorm, that we discovered the black mist composed its flesh. It was a colossal wolf skeleton, adorned with bits of decaying flesh.

What fantastical narrative is this? "According to the sorceress's far-sighted visions of the future, the Dark King is not of this world. He is a werewolf from another realm. Should he win the Moon Goddess' battle, he'll gain the power to open a portal to his world, which could unleash catastrophic consequences on our planet. That's why the Dark King must perish at any cost," Howard explained, his resolve clear. "I will not release the antidote, no matter what."

The more you care, the more you have to loose. ~Harry Potter, Order of Phoenix •• Noor wasn't sure if she wanted to be annoyed, angry, happy or disappointed. The flirty playful guy she had met twice on accident was actually the Mr. Umar Lukuwa she was supposed to meet.

She wiped it harshly, still glaring at her father. Looking down at her, a burning sensation raged in his stomach. He loathed weakness and even more so if it manifested in a Sylvania. “Now, show me the headmaster’s head.” “George first.” He raised one brow. “No. Let’s do it together.” “Alright!” They both raised their hands, a bluish string unknotting from it. Then with a small explosion, followed by a puff of black smoke, the headmaster’s body appeared right in front of Dark and George on Z’s lap. Both were unconscious.

motherfucking ph’nglui mglw’nafh hastur! hastur Father Ward’s trembling fingers typed ‘hastur.’ This produced several images of a spectral figure cloaked in yellow, one of which reclined on a throne made of skulls, and another Wikipedia link. The entry proved vaguer than the others, but no less disturbing. “Hastur,” he whispered. “The Unspeakable One. He Who Shall Not Be Named. Also known as Assautuu, Yastur, H’aztre, or Kazum. Mythical deity said to reside in far off Carcosa, along Lake Hyades. Often associated with gods of pagan and child sacrifice.”

his voice taking an even scarier tone as he got up and dark clouds poured out of his hands, floating around him. Dread pooled in Soraya's eyes as she struggled to keep her emotions in check. Black magic, she realized with terror. This was her first time seeing him like this. Alwin was an old wizard who was like a father figure to her. He had taught her everything she knew about witchcraft after he had taken her in when she was lost and wandering decades ago. He had always talked about how the witches and werewolves used to live in harmony. This fueled Soraya's hopes when she learned about the prophecy. He turned to her, letting down the hood of his cloak. Soraya let out a silent gasp as she

And make me rip the paper that records his debt! In a chilly tone, Sara explained, "Stephen's mind is not that we say a guess is a guess. These are the words that Mr. Joe just said. Therefore, don't you think you could spare some time to assist me in taking photographs of the rosehip waiters working at Happy Hill Pub? When Mr. Joe overheard that, he laughed and said, "Of course, Yes!" I will right away have someone else take care of that! *** The door to the wolf room was smashed open with a loud "Boom," and the tall figure that entered was none other than Harry Potter himself.