Grimmauld Place Novels & Stories

POV: Callum Brennan Location: Kensington, Mordaunt's Mansion Time: Three Days After Battle The address Mordaunt provided is in Kensington. Wealthy neighborhood. Old money. The kind of place where pack-raised wolves like me don't belong. I'm standing outside a Georgian mansion that probably costs more than my entire pack's territory. Four stories. Manicured gardens. Security that's subtle but present. This is where Mordaunt lives. Six hundred years of accumulated wealth on display.

He turned back to Scarlett with a wistful grin before turning away again. His ginger brows furrowed in determination. He wanted no harm to come down on his niece. Josh would gladly give up his life to keep her safe from—them. 'They're coming for her. I swear—I'm going to protect her. I promise, sister.' ________________________________________________ It didn't look so much as big at the front premise, but it seemed grand enough to be a high school. Pastonville High. The place had an old medieval vintage look to it, almost like Hogwarts in Harry Porter—minus the fantasia. Pessimistic to say the least.

“ Goodness me!” Morticia exclaimed as she walked into the hall with her husband, Mr. Graham by her side as well as her children. It wasn't just the gold floors or the bright fancy chandelier of the mansion, the decorations looked out of this world. “ I've never seen anything like it!” Liam, the second son of Graham had his jaw hanging loose. Morticia couldn't tell her son to control himself this time around because she too couldn't stop gawking at the place. The other guests were dumbfounded too as everyone tried to be on their best behaviour.

Gabriel POV We pulled through the gates of the compound at eight fifteen. The Bangria residence was nothing like the Wrenfield townhouse in Crescent Harbour. This was a walled estate on three acres in the Highfields district, surrounded by reinforced perimeter fencing, monitored by thirty-six cameras, and staffed by a security team of twelve. The house itself was a sprawling modernist structure of concrete and glass, designed by an architect who'd been told to make it look like a home and had instead produced something that looked like a very elegant bunker.

Kicking the snow that had regathered in frustration and feeling completely alone, Mikhail continued on with his walk. Raeann had expected the Ravenclaw coven to look like something out of a Harry Potter novel, all dark, medieval, and imposing. Instead, she found herself standing outside the front gate of a quaint farm cottage, just inside pack lands, that looked disturbingly familiar. A knock on the door confirmed her suspicions. "seanathair Agus seanmháthair(Granddad and Grandma)?.” Raeann’s eyes lit up at the elderly couple beaming back at her.

And all of us, from old to young, know the game just got infinitely more complicated. I add the Old Man’s name to the board. The black ink bleeds slightly into the white surface, like it knows it belongs there. “Is there anything else we know?” I ask, scanning the room. Uncle John shifts his weight. His voice drops half a tone. “Yes. The last property ever registered to Harry’s name is the old ghost house on the south side of Sea Cliff.” He pauses. The words hit like a blunt object. The house where everything took place. That house.

The game had changed. They went to ground in a property Anton had never used, one so deeply buried in shell companies and trusts even Jessica had only known of its existence as a line item. It was not a sleek urban fortress, but a fortified Georgian manor house on a private, wooded estate in the Chiltern Hills, an hour northwest of the city. It was called ‘The Gables,’ and it felt less like a safe house and more like a museum of a quieter, deader time.

He introduced himself, sat me down and explained everything. It was dusk when I finally wrapped up the consultation and made my way, not home, but to Ginny’s place. Unannounced, I know but I needed someone to handle the wreck I was right now and she was the only one that could. Ginny Lockwood lived on the far Eastside of the city in the Pinevilles, an estate that was home to only one particular class of individuals — billionaires. That's because Ginny is an heiress.

“What did you even prepare? “Mandy had already talked big yesterday. If you can’t fulfill your promise, we won’t have a place to survive in the Zimmer family soon!” Harvey glanced at the Rolex on his wrist. “It’s almost time. Just follow me.” Harvey brought Mandy and her family out and took a cab to go to where the evening banquet was held. At the Silver Nimbus Outer Courtyard! The Silver Nimbus Outer Courtyard was not like the courtyard in the York family, but a private estate located at the Silver Nimbus Mountain’s foothill, also owned by the York family.