Harry Potter Fanfiction Hogwarts Watches The Graveyard Scene Romane & Geschichten

“If you really intend to get gory with it.” “I do,” she said softly. “Sigrid called. Harry has woken. They are crazed with grief and are trying to feed the body of Jules Edison with blood, convinced that they can bring him back. The people who hurt Harry like that will pay. I will make sure of it.” “In that case, back to your spell with you,” he patted her arse. “Leave the torture chamber to me. I’ll have it ready for when you need it.” “Thank you.” She paused. “Do you think you could arrange for restraints to be fitted to the walls? Or cages like the Van Helsings used? I want to make them watch.”

There was a rumble on the ground like an earthquake, and Hazel moved from where she was standing, and he watched as a tomb slowly started to come out of the ground. All the dark witches were silent as they watched in anticipation of what was going to unfold. Hazel continued with the chanting of the forbidden spell, her voice louder than before, and slowly, the Tomb started to open. Three dark witches stepped forward and opened the tomb, and it was pure horror from then on. Johnathan could only watch as fear passed through his eyes as a figure emerged From the tomb and all the dark witches fell to their knees including Hazel with their heads bowed as the figure slowly walked to an altar and p

But I don’t see anything and no longer have the feeling. “Hedwig, I think I am losing it.” I look to the bed for him, only to realize I left him in the floor. “OMG I am so sorry!” I rush to pick him up hugging and giving me a kiss before putting him on the bed. “There you go. Now I am going to shower get snuggly and we will get some cereal and put on Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone. And before you ask, we can’t skip any movies. Because if I when I get rejected again if I die, I will not go out without having seen them all at least once!” I say as I go through my drawers till, I find my Gryffindor rob onesies and head to the shower. Soon as I start to wash, I realize I forgot to put on

The moon hung low in the sky, casting a silvery glow over the tombstones that loomed like silent sentinels in the night. As we approached the sorceress's grave, a cold wind whipped through the graveyard, carrying with it a mournful wail that made my blood run cold. My mother lit a torch to ward off the encroaching darkness as we began to dig, our hearts heavy with the knowledge of what we might unleash. The earth gave way beneath our shovels, revealing the weathered coffin that held the remains of the sorceress. With a solemn determination, my father raised his sword high and brought it down upon the lid, shattering it with a resounding crack.

“We’re close. The key can feel it.” When they reached the ruins, the sight was both awe-inspiring and unnerving. Crumbling stone arches and half-collapsed towers jutted out of the rocky landscape, their surfaces etched with faded carvings. The ground was littered with debris, and the faint sound of wind echoed through the empty corridors, carrying a whisper that made Emma’s skin crawl. “This is the place,” Crane said, consulting the map. “If Haverstone’s notes are accurate, the fracture is at the center of the labyrinth.”

Octavia laughed at something Nick said, and my mother watched her with the soft gaze of a woman who had already chosen her daughter-in-law. I excused myself from the table. In the study, I locked the door behind me. The monitor on my desk displayed four grainy feeds from the cemetery cameras. I hit play, just as I had done repeatedly throughout the day. There she was. Octavia stood in black, her hair pulled back severely. I watched her shove Giselle into the grave, and throw stones at her with her parents and friends. I paused the footage on her face, enlarged it, and zoomed in.

He had stood at her grave. The thought landed with a weight that stole his breath. Around him, guests shifted uncomfortably. Some leaned toward one another, whispering questions they were not yet brave enough to voice aloud. Others avoided eye contact entirely, suddenly aware that they were witnesses to something deeply personal, deeply irreversible. Naomi’s voice cut through the stillness. “Daddy?” Harry turned slowly. She was looking at him, not at Helen. Not at the screen. At him. Confused. Searching. The room seemed to recede, leaving only that look behind.

“I should’ve come sooner.” Behind the trees, magic shifted. Confusion rippled outward like a disturbed web. Tracking spells snagged on the grave, tangled themselves in death residue and familial bloodlines. The signal split, fractured, collapsed inward on itself. I cried louder. Anyone watching would see a grieving girl kneeling at her sister’s grave. A broken heir finally paying respects to the dead. Not a warning bearer. Not a liar. Not a threat. Footsteps approached the perimeter, cautious now. Uncertain. “Is she…?” someone murmured.

looking helpless as he lost the only thing that made him a god: his land. "You look like you're staring at a funeral," Silas rumbled, standing by the window. His silhouette appeared massive against the grey sky. "I am," I whispered. My voice was a dry rasp, like a dead leaf when crushed. "I'm watching the burial of the Crescent Alpha. I just didn't expect the scene to look so... boring, and ordinary…" My cough broke the silence, a deep, racking tremor that made my ribs feel like they were being snapped back one by one. I pressed a tissue to my mouth that quickly soaked in a dark, thick crimson. I didn't panic; that was for people who still had a future.

When you have seen as much of life as I have, you will not underestimate the power of obsessive love. ~Albus Dumbledore, The half-blood prince. •• Noor sat besides her father, watching the gentle rise and fall of his chest, the steady beeping of the monitors, a background noise that seemed to dull the white noise within her head.