Harry Potter Archway Novels & Stories

“Maybe ten if the wizards stay focused.” Another witch added, “You overpaid. So we’re throwing in some extras, a fountain, a tavern, a playground, even an orphanage.” My voice shook. “That sounds... perfect.” “Of course it does,” Lunaryn purred. “You’re building a legacy.” “And one more thing,” I said. “An archway at the entrance. Big. Beautiful. Let it read The Seralyn Pack. I want the world to know.” They bowed and left, the ground already humming with the stir of ancient magic.

We start down the path toward the arch. Edmund stands as we pass the front row. He does not clap or gesture. He just stands, quietly, the way you stand for something you have been waiting to witness. Alexander's father is beside him, standing too, his eyes very bright, looking at his son at the arch and then at me walking toward him. The garden is very quiet. The water is audible beyond the gap in the hedgerow, doing its continuous patient work. The driftwood arch above Alexander, weathered white and silver, had salvaged pieces assembled into something that was always going to be this shape. Both things. Salvage and arrival. I walk toward him. He does not look away.

But today my mind was on my brother and not the beauty I was surrounded by. I strained my eyes to see past the bright foliage to the dirt path I knew would take me to The Archway. Okay, so it wasn't truly much of an archway. It was more of an opening between two trees, yet it was still what the people used to refer to it as The Great Oak Archway. It was always spoken of by the older people in reverent whispers. Ones that I never paid attention to growing up. What child listens to old wives' tales, anyway?

My skin tingled with excitement at the thought of Harry's hands roaming over my curves, stripping away the flimsy lace. Reaching the seventh floor corridor, I paused outside the Room of Requirement, taking a deep breath to steady my nerves. Then, with a trembling hand, I knocked three times. The door swung open and there he stood - Harry Potter himself, glasses glinting in the candlelight. His black hair was messier than usual, like he'd run his fingers through it a hundred times. The white shirt hugged his lean chest and his dark jeans clung to his hips. He was gorgeous.

I’m a stalker and I said that I would never use this locker again but it was important. At first it was dark, black as the night but then a path appeared. A road through the woods, littered with dying flower petals. Then there was an archway with words engraved in it. They were of a different language. Through the archway a figure sat back turned to me and…before an open grave.

The wolf let out a warning growl, its eyes narrowing. “I think we’re on the verge of discovering that fact,” was what Luna said, there was the fear within her, which she managed to hold in her voice. And then, the archway began to open. The rumbling ceased when the stone archway swung all the way open, revealing a glowing portal of silver light. It throbbed like a heartbeat, casting the forest in an effervescent glow. "Is that... the Heart of the Veil?" Luna whispered, unable to look away from the dazzling sight.

Now, she clung to me, a small, trusting weight, her earlier giggles replaced by a more subdued wonder at our speed. The air grew progressively drier, losing the damp, rich scent of healthy soil and replacing it with something sharper, more brittle. We raced for what felt like an eternity, the forest around us growing increasingly ancient and gnarled. Finally, Garry skidded to a halt before a colossal, ivy-choked stone archway that seemed to have erupted from the very earth itself. No, not erupted – woven. It was as if roots and rock had fused into a single, seamless entryway.

By going down that path, Viktor risked coming face to face with whoever was casting the spell, probably Doctor Tepes, but now he couldn't help himself. Before he knew it, he was peering around the archway at the other end of the hall that led to a chamber. There were more steps that descended to the floor of it, while to the right a low gallery of arcades opened that ran along two of the sides of the great space.

I knew I would have to stay here for a minimum of six months, but I was already looking forward to the day I could buy my little place. It turns out that Derek was an architect. He explained he needed to work on some drawings for a client and disappeared into his office. I grabbed a plate full of cold pizza and some drinks, then headed up to my room. I had a date with Harry Potter and I wasn't about to miss it. I took a long bath, curled up in my robe with a fire going, and lost myself in the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

“You’re going to summon something if you keep that up.” We shuffle forward, the flame in my hand barely pushing back the shadows. My boots crunch over fallen debris—bits of plaster, old leaves, maybe bones—I’m not checking. The hallway narrows, then widens again as we step into a massive, domed corridor. A tall stone archway looms ahead, etched with vines and unfamiliar symbols that pulse faintly with light. Trixie dusts off her shoulder like she planned this route all along. “Told you I could get us here.”