Harry Potter Key Wings Novels & Stories

I couldn’t smell him nearby, so I knew I had some time before he returned home. I slid the key into the keyhole and unlatched the lock, pulling the drawer open. I gasped when I saw what was inside. It looked like a thin black wand with a dark blue crystal-type ball on top of it. The black wand had leaf-like decals that expanded out, reminding me of wings and a part of it stemmed around the blue crystal holding it into place.

The pressure in the air suddenly shifted—and then came a blinding flash of light. Past Ron appeared beside Eron, cloaked in plum coloured robes, his staff in hand and a crow on his shoulder. The crow saw the huge walls of water about to flood the towns, squawked, and instantly disappeared. Ron scoffed. What a scaredy-cat. Behind him, three witches emerged from a swirling portal. One of them—a wiry young man with curly dark hair, holding a snake headed staff. Ron glanced at the crying god and sighed. Eron was useless for the time being.

He holds it open and looks at me expectantly. I chew on the inside of my cheek. I push down my worries with a deep breath and limp into the connected room. Three pairs of wings are on display, but not like the others. These ones are clean and beneath each stands a table. The first set of wings are black and silver. And on the table is a gleaming silver sword. The second set of wings are snow white. A beautifully strange dagger lies on the table, its curved blade engraved with delicate designs and its hilt encrusted with precious stones.

We look forward to the day she can run with us. "Soon." The witch agreed with a soft smile. Some of the shadows began to dance like excited pups, their excited yips filling the air as a giant blonde man stepped out of the darkening tree-line followed by a smaller version of himself. Despite the winter months being on them, both males were golden like the husks of wheat and barley. Their white blonde hair matched that of the little girl babbling in her mother's arms. Ulf was much taller than his son and bulkier with muscles crowding his limbs and torso. His chiseled facial features could easily make the gods jealous and his blue eyes were topaz blue and as hard as ice as they surveyed the wor

It didn’t look like they were interested in me, just in the bread on my hand. Gecko giggles. I look up to see that quite a few of them had landed in his hair. Corvu just scoffs, “They’re probably confused as to why you’re wingless, pixie-boy.” Gecko tilts his head in Corvu’s direction, giving him a foul look. I hadn’t seen him do this before, but Gecko’s eyes started to glow in the same strange green as the fairy wings. Corvu’s saddle makes a strange jingling sound, he then proceeds to slide off to the left side of his horse. He grunts as he hits the ground. When Gecko laughs the fairies fly out of his hair.

Thank fuck that I changed my pajamas after receiving a magical floating letter in my room. Clad in her gothic dress and lacy stockings paired with a wedged shoes, Maleficent’s straight black hair, and cobalt-colored eyes were the exact opposite of her glowing green eyes that matched the color of her teardrop-shaped brooch. Her horns and wings were displayed as she walked with confidence at the center of the hallway – rendering any creature from the three great dormitories speechless. Her stance reminded them that even if she was rumored to be the weakest among the Halflings, she was able to kill an angel without any qualms. Three Slaughter butterflies flew around her as she walked towards th

We reached the base of the spire just as the moon broke through the clouds. And there she was. Headmistress Morwen. She stood at the center of the summoning circle, her silver-streaked hair lifted by the wind, She carried the Obsidian box in her hands. The Key to the Shadow Vault. The one thing that could unleash the Hollow Army, an army of cursed souls bound to the will of its master. Harry stepped from the darkness. His presence warped the air, bending light and shadow. His silver eyes burned, not with triumph, but with something darker.

Just an old man in simple gray robes, eyes the color of distant thunder. He stops ten feet away and bows (not deep, but real). Sky King (quiet, for only us): “The throne is dissolved. The Court is yours to command or dismiss. The sky… is yours to keep.” He places something on the ground between us: A single feather made of living stormglass, violet at the edges, warm to the touch. Sky King: “A key. To every gate, every wind, every secret the old Court ever guarded. Spend it wisely.” Then he steps back, turns, and walks into the dawn.

Blend in, keep your head down, and move on before anyone gets too close. As she walked down the bustling hallway, murmurs and whispers followed her. She was used to it. She didn't just blend in. She found her locker and fumbled with the combination, her hands trembling slightly. As she opened it, she caught a glimpse of herself in the small mirror inside. Her long, curly silver hair cascaded down her back like molten moonlight, shimmering with an otherworldly glow. It was the kind of hair that defied explanation, the kind that drew eyes and sparked curiosity exactly what she didn't need.

And that was a furred dragon with a slight limp due to an injured forepaw that refused to bear the dragon’s full weight. Harry climbed swiftly onto Jules’ back, their grip considerate of the hair they held, never pulling so hard or placing so much weight upon it that it caused the dragon Jules discomfort. When Harry was firmly seated on Jules’ back, he took off, his uplifting flight crossing the witch’s ward, carrying them out into the chaos of the war.