Hogwarts Legacy Fanart Novels & Stories

He turned the arrows over and showed us the symbols we had missed the first time. “I decided to trace it all the way into the human city because I asked someone I knew, and he said he had seen it in the human city before.” At the mention of that, my heart sank. I started to pray to the moon goddess that he wasn’t headed where I thought he was headed as that would be more than enough reason for Darius to claim that all humans were evil. “Go on,” Darius encouraged. “I found a company out in the city that builds and creates weapons,” he said. “And the symbol is their logo. They’re highly patronized by bounty hunters who come in here to hunt werewolves and try to take us out.”

Arius gaze flickered to my hands a couple of times before they settled on my face. “I can give you an army but when you return, you will not be allowed a part in fighting, this way, I can guarantee that your position will always be secured and besides, you will be okay. They are not undead creatures. They just have a collective thought and power beyond what any of us can imagine. This is the best offer I can give you.” “I want my army with no strings attached, I am tired of your extra terms which keeps increasing without stopping.” I gritted out.

everyone’s head snapped to the treeline as Azreal and Lila came walking toward them. A/N So I was thinking, (scary I know) some of you might have questions I dont see or get to, and technology and I are not really the best of friends (it's embarassingly bad) so I dont have an IG for Legacy or anything like that, but if you would like to ask me anything or maybe have me clear up anything about Legacy or any of the characters I would love to do so, as long as it doesnt spoil anything for the future lol. You can either leave your question in a comment on this chapter (not in a book reivew please) or catch me on Facebook @ Danger Beanz as always thank you for your support and Happy Reading <3

Two Hours Later – Royal Investigation Council Chamber The torches burned low in the stone chamber, casting long shadows over the obsidian war table where the kingdom’s highest tacticians and magical scholars sat in grim silence. “It wasn’t just a mark,” muttered the War Caste’s commander, fingers gliding over the magical traces left behind on the prince’s skin—now etched into the blood-glass sigil projected above the table. “She laced it with bloodruned fury. Precision-carved. Not a rage mark—this was controlled. Ritualized.”

But the storm wasn’t over. His father-in-law “Harold Hayes" a man whose fortune had bought him arrogance as thick as his waistline, leaned back in his chair. He swirled his wine lazily, the red liquid catching the chandelier light like blood. His voice was calm, but his disdain was sharper than a blade.

Suzan was in there. We had no choice. I reached for the door, my fingers trembling as I pushed it open. The creak of the hinges echoed through the trees, a slow, agonizing sound that sent a chill crawling up my spine. Inside, the air was thick with dust, stale and unmoving, as if the place had been sealed away from time itself. The floor was littered with debris, old wooden planks warped from years of decay. Strange symbols covered the walls, their jagged shapes illuminated by the dim flicker of a single candle resting on a crooked table. The shadows in the room seemed alive, shifting in unnatural ways, stretching and curling as if they were watching us.

According to the records, Enneagon's parents passed away at an early age and he had worked as a laborer for a local employer to make ends meet. Later in life, he joined Wyvern Peak and went on to achieve legendary status. The second statue was of War Legate Celest. He sported a long beard and a golden battle suit. Brandishing a great ax, he exuded a strong murderous intent. Celest, whose real name was Marcoh Artois, came fifty years after Enneagon. He was the blacksmith of Vanglesville, known for having crafted remarkable weapons. During the war, he wielded the ax he had forged himself and gained fame in battle.

The first time Lyra escaped the phrontistery at Crescent Pack shealmost got lost. A phrontistery was a place where high ranked young werewolves schooled. There was only seven phrontistery in the world. One located in each continent. Lyra’s pack, the Moonstone pack, was situated in West Virginia, United States, North America. The Crescent Pack was the pack in North America that had a phrontistery. It was located in New York, United States, North America.

“We can use her.” Adam frowned, his brow furrowing in confusion. “What about Enora?”, he asked, his tone cautious. Lucas grinned, leaning back in his chair with a satisfied smirk. “I want to make her our pet, you know with a collar and all. I want her to suck my dick whenever and wherever I want her to.”, he said, his voice low and seductive. “We can even fuck her when the male pack members are watching, so that they know that our Luna is just a fuck toy.”

While forming Carodia and creating the first wolves called legacies, Tuiren states here that she had regrets. She knew her gifted wolves will rise against her later on and so she made bloodlines and a clan of silver wolves to be their worst enemy. "Do you see it now?" Wendy asks, moments later. She knows I've picked the right book for a start. I run my fingers over the Celtic symbols of fire and water imprinted on a page. Tuiren had used these for her creations and that was why each legacy could control either of the elements. "A legacy is not the most powerful wolf alive. I am." I breathe the last words out. The realization shocks me. It's like Tuiren made my kind as a check on the first wo