Hogwarts Astronomy Table Novels & Stories

A grin slipped onto his face and he continued, “Welcome to your own little Hogwarts!” Twisting the knob, Nate entered and Eira followed. After hearing the word ‘Hogwarts’ she had built up high expectations. The room wasn’t grand or beautiful. Truthfully, it was dull. First she took in were the shelves with several thick books that looked torn at the edges. There were a few wooden tables with differently shaped candles and pentagrams drawn over them. The walls were lined with crafts and charts that attracted her attention. Most of them were hangings that showed the phases of the moon. There was something written below each picture but it was a foreign language that she couldn’t understand. Sh

How was I supposed to get through a magic class when I couldn’t even light a candle with my mind anymore? Walking into the dining hall felt like stepping onto a stage. The room was immense, with a high, vaulted ceiling that showed a swirling, star-filled sky instead of stone. Four long tables stretched the length of the hall, each buzzing with the energy of its house. I saw the Luneris table first; it was the loudest. Students were laughing, shouting across the table, and piling their plates high with food. The Noxtera table was the complete opposite. They sat in small, quiet groups, speaking in low tones, their movements graceful and deliberate. The Aurora witches were just as quiet, but th

The white walls illuminate under the sunlight falling through the glass windows beside two humongous beds that stand a few inches apart in the middle of the room. "Wow! This is something." Tessa says. We are used to luxury but I expected Hogwarts architecture when coming to this Academy. I walk towards the seating area on the left-hand side of the room, which has a huge modern fireplace and two big couches and a centre table in front of it. A red book lies on the centre table, the front cover embossed with a golden crest that bears a moon and a wand drawn on it. The Academy emblem. "Found the rulebook," I say.

Langit who witnessed Green's panic only gave a slight smile, it was obvious that she was uncomfortable around him, whether it was her lecturer on the campus where Green was studying or something else. "You got it?" asked him that caught Green's expression as if trying to remember something. "There should be here Sir, but I seem to have left it at home, I forgot to put in," explained Green. "Well, just wait here for a while. Unfortunately, there is no umbrella in my car either," Langit suggested.

Golden eyes blaze beneath, twin infernos that pierce the room with a feral intensity. Eris, the Witch Emissary, occupies the farthest seat at the table, her presence as unshakable as the ancient magic she represents. Her chair, while the simplest, carries a weight that transcends its unadorned appearance. High-backed and carved from pale ash wood, its etched with runes, binding and eternal.

The corridor outside was already quieter than it should have been at this hour, students long since dispersed into their respective wings. I scrolled through the timetable. Healing Arcana, of course. I rushed to school, climbing up stairs two at a time, breath burning in my lungs. By the time I reached the classroom doors, my pulse had settled into an unhealthy pacing. The moment I slipped inside, every head turned. The room was arranged in a wide semicircle seating with a long demonstration table placed at the center, its surface etched with stabilizing runes that allowed the table some form of levitation.

"But you've got the wrong idea. I'm not here on a blind date." Wait-what? My eyes went wide. "This isn't Table 87" "Yes, this is Table 8. But it's the VIP section's Table & He casually pointed out toward the main hall. "Your Table 8 is to the left when you go back out." "O-Oh, I'm so sorry! I got the wrong table!" I wanted to crawl into a hole. No wonder he looked at me like I was nuts. I shot up from my seat and rushed out of there.

The room was alive with voices, laughter, and the sharp clatter of cutlery. Spread across the long table was the centerpiece: a whole roasted Hog, its hide glistening, chunks missing where Lycans had torn into the meat with primal ease. Rey cringed, swallowing against the lump rising in her throat. She reminded herself again that they only had to endure this for a few hours more, and before dawn, this would all be behind them. Her eyes scanned the crowded hall, inevitably landing on him. Orion. His presence was impossible to miss, his gaze already locked on her—smoldering, unrelenting, as if he were peeling back layers to see what she was hiding.

The faint scent of smoke and storm lingered in the air familiar now, like Wyverndale’s own breath. On the largest table, parchment sheets were scattered across an open grimoire. Strange symbols shimmered faintly on their surface, like they were written in lightning. Seraphine leaned closer, squinting. The marks shifted subtly, refusing to stay still. “What language is this?” she murmured. It wasn’t any spellwork she’d seen in class. The diagrams looked like constellations but twisted, spiraling into a pattern that made her heart thrum strangely, like it recognized something her mind didn’t.

Even if she were lying, she should make sure to lie to Draco forever because it would sure be a storm if she were to reject Draco’s proposal. Peter was having a headache thinking of the task he had been assigned before they had come here. “Search for the best venues for a proposal and create a detailed plan for decorations, lighting, music, and all other necessary detail.” Morgan had said, as if it were an important task. He had wanted to question the boss's rapid pace, considering that he had recently met the boss lady, but his next words silenced him. “Make sure to work on it as soon as possible; I want to give her a surprise after we return from Italy.”