Harry Potter Bowtruckle Novels & Stories

He looked rather infuriated with his sharp eyes so she quickly looked away. Chamberlain Hazi followed her gaze and clapped his hands. "Oh, here you are, the great wizard of Sarang!" He leapt to him and his eyes fell straight onto the glowing relic, shaped like a white wolf head, that was in his hands. "Is this it? Are you sure it will bring out the white wolf?" He excitedly reached for it, but the man was fast and drew his sword at once. "It will, but I would rather you keep your dirty paws off it."

I drank it all in one swift movement. Jason, I wouldn't beg for your love again. I was going to love myself. So… Why are you the one who ended up regretting it? ... I looked at the crystal vial in my hand. The pale, pink liquid shimmered inside, giving off a scent that was both mesmerizing and dangerous. This was the legendary Love Potion, the forbidden magic of our world of Werewolves. Drink it, and the target would have "love" etched deep into their soul for seven years.

Gecko and I gather our things and help each other get loaded up onto the carriage. “Where’s Corvu?” I ask him, looking around and seeing no signs of the Trickster. Gecko just shrugs his shoulders, “He said he’d meet us at the next village.” It seemed a bit strange but I guess it couldn’t be helped. Bella pushes aside her garment scraps bag to give herself a better entry into the carriage, then turns to lend me a hand inside as well. “That’s a gorgeous necklace, dear.” She says. I hadn’t noticed, but looking down I see the amulet sitting at the front of my tunic, and no longer hidden inside.

What Draco hated was seeing someone biting the hand that feeds him. This dead right-hand man had not only stolen the weapon design blueprint from his boss, but investigation also proved that he had been messing with some of the shipping vessels that transported the weapons, causing it to delay. He had also been swapping some materials for the production of weapons and replacing them with inferior goods so that, in the long run, when such materials are used in the making of the gun, they cause it to be defective. It makes it so that the day you are in dire need of using the gun, it jams and refuses to fire when you pull the trigger.

His handsome face crumpled, and his eyes reddened on the spot. He clenched his teeth and, trembling, drew a long ebony flute from his belt and blew it with all his strength. A low note split the air, carrying a strange ripple of magic. I raised an eyebrow. That flute was actually a low-grade sending-charm—an enchanted relic for carrying messages. It wasn't powerful, but from the material and the workmanship, someone had clearly poured real effort into it. How did a relic like that end up on a boy who hadn't even crossed the First Circle?

And my son was trapped in the middle of it. “Leave this body, you unclean energy!” the Pack Witch screamed, shaking her hands, the carved wooden bowl rattling in her grasp. She grabbed a small bell from the maiden beside her, who held a plate filled with everything needed for the ritual, and rang it. Harry cried out, clutching his ears and curling into himself. The noise clearly hurt him. His body jerked and trembled, as if trying to fight off some force that refused to let go. “Daddy, please help! She’s disturbing me! Daddy! Mummy!”

Tristan pointed at the egg inside. Bow turned around to see, but then he closed the door and locked it. “That’s a priceless one.” “A dragon egg?” The man raised an eyebrow at him as he handed the swords to Tristan. “Why keep asking? It’s the swords you came down here for.” Tristan scowled as Bow walked past him and went his way back towards the upper deck. He gave one more look at the door before he followed the man. The dragon egg reminded him of something from his vision.

asked the voice of a chuckle. A young sorcerer in his twenties with burgundy hair appeared holding a magic wand. His hair was down shoulder length, a little messy. His eyes were amber-gold, and his body was slender, tall. His androgynous face was sweet. At first glance, it was difficult to tell whether this sorcerer was a pretty boy or a tomboyish woman. He smiled confidently and exuded a superior aura. He was wearing a white robe with a golden thread pattern. In his hand was a long magic wand that touched the ground. At the end of his wand stuck Draco's golden dragon heart. The Heart of Magic.

“They got here before we did, they must’ve had a tip that we were coming and cleared out the place. Although we were able to get our hands on something they forgot to clear out this-“ he waved one of the guys over and he rushed to us with a small dirty box. He unlocked it and pushed it opened, it looked like it hadn’t been used on the outside for many years and then on the inner it was a casing with tiny bottles tagged with labels. “What are these?” Henry asked squinting down to take a better look at the box. “Wolfsbane.” “I don’t understand, why is it in small tubes like this?” Henry’s questions aligned with mine as I stared. It wasn’t a surprise that they had it but something didn’t add up

They eyed the dragon bones on the carriage, and a one-eyed man shouted, "Hand over the dragon bones!" "Why should we?" Bucky retorted. As someone rushed toward them, he lashed out with his whip. "This is our loot." With a forceful tug, the whip snapped in half. Bucky nearly fell off the carriage, furious at the audacity of the person who dared to snatch their belongings. "I'm gonna kill you!" Bucky roared.