Harry Potter Ancient Animagus Fanfiction Novels & Stories

He excused himself and left her alone. Right after Carlos left, a black fog appeared in front of her until it took the shape of a puppy. The two of them stared at each other before Minerva sighed. "Were you really an ancient demonic beast?" Harika wagged its tail as it looked at her. "What did you think?" She pursed her lips. She still could not believe it. Was Harika truly an ancient demonic beast? There were a lot of things going on her mind. Silence ensued for a couple of minutes before Minerva finally sighed.

Dante drew on his gaze, as if trying to catch him in a lie, but Harry burst out giggling. “That was funny! I told you that I am not my brother's puppet, why would you even think that I would do his bidding for him?” “He is your older brother, the two of you get along fine, so I don't see any reason why you would want to get rid of him” “What if I tell you that he is not my father's child and does not deserve to sit on that throne in the first place” “He is a Lycan!” Dante refuted, and that word seemed like a trigger for Harry, who snarled at him.

I burst through the hidden iron doors of the royal archive room, shifting back into my human skin as I gently laid Anna down on a thick leather cot in the corner of the dusty chamber. "Ronald," she muttered, her fingers clawing weakly at my sleeve, her lips stained with a tiny drop of fresh blood from Marcus's bite. "The portals, Magnus is going to let them all out, the ancient ones are waiting behind the veil." "I am going to find the counter-spell, sweetheart, just breathe," I whispered, my hands shaking as I sprinted toward the towering, wooden shelves filled with the oldest leather scrolls in the territory.

"Not alone." "I wasn't planning to." --- They walked to the edge of the forest, where a figure was waiting. He was tall, his fur dark as midnight, his eyes pale as ice. He looked ancient, older than the trees, older than the snow, older than the memories the wolves carried. His presence pressed against Lyra's chest, heavy and cold. "You're the half-blood," he said. His voice was low, rough, as if he hadn't spoken in a long time.

“She’s still alive.” Relief crashed over me so suddenly my knees nearly gave out. I laughed. “She’s alive…” “I told you,” Marcus said quietly. The old wolf nodded. “She remains below.” I stepped closer. “Then open it.” “I cannot.” “There has to be a way.” “There is.” Every one of us straightened. “What way?” Hansel asked. The old wolf looked at each of us carefully before speaking. “There exists an ancient transformation spell.” His expression became grave. “It predates the kingdoms and predates the Veilborn.”

What? I frowned in confusion then glanced at the pendant resting in my hand. I was so beautiful and for reasons I couldn't explain… I decided to slip it around my neck and didn't think more about it. *** Meanwhile… Far beyond the bustling streets of Cairo… Beyond the endless desert… Beyond the forgotten temples buried beneath centuries of sand… Something ancient stirred. As if it had finally sensed the one it had waited for across three thousand years. —----------------------------------

Before she died, she whispered to me: “There’s a gift for you in the attic, dear. For when you’re ready.” Driven by a force I didn’t understand, I dragged the ladder to the attic and climbed up. The air was dusty and heavy, smelling of forgotten time. There, in an old cedar chest, I found a diary with a worn leather cover engraved with strange symbols. “Ancestral Witchcraft” was written on the first page, in Agnes’s elegant handwriting. As I flipped through the pages, full of spells and rituals, a memory invaded my mind — the first time I saw Professor Dorian in the college parking lot, with his wife.

I say. I take Bruce by the hand and start walking toward the little magic shop. "It is boarded up, and we can't go in there," Bruce says. As we step over the sidewalk and onto the small concrete pad in front of the shop, it begins to change. "It must be a spell or something," Bruce says. He looks at me like I should know. "I only became a witch yesterday. I have no idea," I say, shrugging my shoulders. When the storefront changes, it is a little magic shop, after all. The image of the three ancestors fades away, and two old men appear in the doorway.

She smiles at me and looks at me from underneath those thick eyelashes. "Sebastian, did it work?" "My beloved, I am not sure. Elloise said we must wait for a while before we try to make you turn into an Ancient." "But can we go home now?" "Yes, let us go." As we make our way out to the front where Elloise is sitting, I watch her face turn into horror as I whisper the words of warning into her ear. With that, I take the Book of Spells and make our way out of the forest; the drive home is rather excited as Anastasia believes that she feels that the spell has worked.

Her mind is a million miles away, and I leave her to her thoughts as I get lost in my own, remembering the day on the altar when Agatha tried to force us into mating. When Willow is done nursing Adare, she hands him back to me, and I change him in front of the fireplace, glad that Willow remembered to bring the nappy bag with her. I’m still busy dressing him when my mate comes back, carrying a very heavy and very old book. “I found the spell.” Of course she did. Why did I ever doubt her? “And?” “I…it’s written in ancient Latin. Breaking this spell…” she shakes her head and goes quiet.