Harry Potter Magical Inheritance Fanfiction Novels & Stories

She had faked her identity as a former Alpha’s descendant to claim the inheritance, so that she could have Harry. Harry and his family had fallen right into her lies. “How did you…” I said, “Teresa, I didn’t expose you before out of respect for you as a mother-wolf. But you need to stop protecting Harry. He violated the pack’s rules and tried to be the new Alpha. If you don’t want to share his fate, step aside.” Werewolves whispered to each other. They all stared at Teresa and Harry. Harry snatched the document from my hand and glared at Teresa.

I shook my head, the cold knot in my stomach tightening. “It’s old magic. Deeper than DNA. It doesn’t just say who the father is. It reveals bloodline… everything. Dominant traits, latent magic, inherited curses… and heritage.” She looked at me, her eyes wide with warning. “If there’s anything in your blood, Lana, anything you don’t know about or don’t understand, it will come out. He’s not just trying to prove the baby is Ronan’s. He’s trying to map the board. And he’s using that baby and you as the pieces.” Before I could process her warning, the doors to the great hall opened again. Ronan emerged, the pack spilling out behind him, their faces expectant. He walked to the edge of the terrac

But I didn’t want to. Not anymore. Magic had brought me here — but it had almost destroyed me along the way. Magic had given me Dorian, but it had almost killed him. Magic had given me Aggy, but it had almost taken her before she even existed. Every spell I had cast had left a scar, a mark I would carry forever. I couldn’t risk it again. Not with her. Not with my daughter. No. I wasn’t going to use the book. I wasn’t going to light candles. I wasn’t going to draw circles.

Arabella returned to Harry’s house, fury pulsing through her veins. Yes, she was livid—at Helena. She was convinced Helena was behind the spiked wine that left their father hospitalized and unconscious. But… could Helena really be that heartless? Maybe it had something to do with the inheritance. The more she thought about it, the more disgusted Arabella became. Why do people do anything—everything—for the sake of inheritance? Her father. Her stepmother. Now even her sister? And Harry?

“Just… let someone in next time, okay?” I didn’t answer. He didn’t push. Once he was gone, I forced myself to eat, showered, and sat back down on my bed with a towel around my shoulders, staring blankly at the bottle again. It was empty now. The hangover was receding, but my chest felt no lighter. I told myself again… No more Ronan. The days ahead would change everything. In a few more nights, I would undergo my first Inheritance Ceremony… a sacred rite that would awaken parts of my bloodline, strengthen my magic, and maybe, finally… give me answers about my mother. About where I came from.

As much as her mother at the Delphos Company, where she is a secretary, and of course they have drinks, the tradition of those two who tried to hide the fact that they didn't like their jobs and were unhappy. Even though this was a tradition, they were unable to change their lives even with the inheritance left by their father's grandfather, because they didn't have a hint of magic in their veins. The inheritance in question would only be useful for wizards, which in fact, had no use for them. As for her own parents, they were the only generation that was not born with magic, apart from her brothers and other relatives, but the ancient works that were spread around the house, would only open

Innis didn’t even need to summon me. If her father had tried to take her property, he would have renounced it himself and run away in fear. Attempting to get a necromancer’s inheritance without having shared blood could result in something dangerous. The going could get tough. The simplest consequence would be ghosts haunting the castle’s corridors, unable to ever be released, and something worse could awaken just as well. There was clearly magic at work there. A castle built on blood and bones. I liked it. I made a mental note to snoop around it later. A skilled necromancer was bound to have a laboratory somewhere; I was sure of it. And Innis’ great-grandfather was skilled, I had already re

That was the last time I saw him. For years. Maereth didn’t yell afterward. That terrified me more than if she had. “That wasn’t vampire magic,” she said once we were safe. “It didn’t feel like it,” I muttered. “And it wasn’t wolfcraft.” She continued “What was it then?” I asked. Her mouth tightened. “Inheritance.” She trained me after that. Hard. Relentless. Magic, I learned, doesn’t care about good intentions. It cares about fuel. Mine responds to blood, emotion, proximity. Anger makes it violent. Fear makes it wild.

She managed to collect and practice from many grimoires until she became the best. Nobody knew this because her life was a perfect secret, and she was not willing to expose herself. She traveled to many different countries, collecting grimoires from different languages and cultures and making a huge collection. Since these spells were too dangerous for anyone and it was unsettling for her neighbors because the power that emanated from them was too much, she burnt all the books. Every single one of them, a month before the werewolf killing spell. A few copies could still be found around the world though. Her witch powers could not be inherited by her children since her mate was human and his

Harry smiled ironically, it seemed crazy what Ernest was proposing. “Of course, not sir. But we can see what chance we would have, just don't refuse to let it happen, you have only one year left to fully inherit sir, the contract could be for only two years.” “You're crazy, what a wrong way to do things, besides I would like a woman to fall in love with me, for who I am, not for a contract” Harry limps off to his room, but his lackey is still insistent. “Look sir, we have little time left to plan everything, I'll take care of looking for the candidates, but please, you need not only to inherit but also company, you are too lonely, and “Harry interrupts him.