Severus Snape Cloak Novels & Stories

her voice softened to something nearly fond, “, is the easiest thing in the world to corrupt.” The reliquary was a tomb, but not for bodies. Here, the dead were memories, and the grave was a sarcophagus crafted not to rest but to contain, built of salt and soot, bound with runes meant to mute the rage of what slept inside. The Cloak did not wait so much as linger, woven from dust soaked in the blood of visionaries and madmen, sewn with god-hair plucked from the forgotten, threaded with bones of dreamweavers who had vanished screaming into their illusions. It moved in the darkness, undulating, a thing that had never truly been inanimate.

********** Night had settled over the Academy like a blanket of velvet, thick and pressing, the stars sharp against the darkness like shards of glass. I didn’t know how long I sat in that room, heart twisting, mind running circles around itself. Around him. When the door creaked softly, Miles slipped inside, moving like a shadow, silent and certain. In his hands was something dark, something soft, catching the faintest light like silk dipped in shadow. The cloak. “Invisibility enchantment,” Miles murmured. “One of the better ones we keep for… special occasions.” I stared at it. Thin, elegant, flowing between his fingers like water made of midnight.

“Now.” I guess I won't get to eat. I pull the cloak on. Grabbing the vial of scent blocker from the table, I down half of it, stowing the remaining into the pocket of the cloak. I slip the necklace over my head. The magic slide over me slowly. My skin cools. The constant ache in my spine softens. I looked down. The curve of my stomach blurs, not gone, not erased, but disguised. Tears burn behind my eyes.

Professor snapes said with a smile as Gao Yu kept mute. “Anyway I called you for something, how did you learn the second verse of the ritual recitation?” Professor snapes asked. “I Don’t know, I found out I know it when you started reciting it” Gao Yu said nothing but the truth. “I see, you are really among the children involved in the ritual years ago, why must my little sister die though? Professor snapes said smiling as a drop of tear dropped down his eyes, his little sister has been among those affected by the ritual, she was the very last person he could call a close family, she was six when the ritual took place, he can still remember how the little girl shivered after reciting the rit

He had a homely face that you could easily forget and was clad in black from his neck down to his feet; from his long black coat over a black turtle neck shirt, slacks, and black gloves made of suede. "Oh, not the freak too..." groaned Lance. The guy, had slicked back black hair and wore big round spectacles. He looked at the charms, took out a white slate and a pen and started writing. "What is he doing?" Dorin asked, his curiosity getting the better of him. Seb stopped writing and showed him the slate, [1st class charms and wards, also, a strong hiding spell] he wrote, pointing at a transparent band on his right arm made of a sort of liquid metal.

However, despite what the Coven Head believed, she was not free from the influence of her executioner and loyal jester, Sethor Mebuz. Standing beside her like an omen of doom, Sethor wore a more stylized version of a wizard’s cloak. Resembling a jacket in most aspects of its tailoring, the loose black velvet sleeves were all that was left of the garment’s origins. Their fabric hung from his darkly handsome figure to blend in with the cuffs of Sethor’s grey button-down shirt and black pants, Tilla only vaguely acknowledged his presence. Before, her eyes shifted towards the menacing silhouette of Minorah lurking along the wall behind him.

“First of all, we have a boat, and a good one at that.” “I see.” Cai yawned and stretched her long arms above her head. “We will get on it today and you can rest there.” He reached for a pile of items he had hidden under his side of the bed. “These are for you.” He held up a stack of clothes.” “Oh…thank you. You really know how to impress a girl.” She sat up and looked with an eager face. “What are they?” “Because you needed a cloak, I got you a very nice one.” He took out a dark green cloak with beige rope trim and a hood. “It matches your eyes. You hold it together with this.” He showed her a silver broach that was made in a spiral design.

"This is for you." She draped it over my shoulders. The material was thick and warm, perfect for traveling. But there was something else. A faint shimmer in the weave. Magic. "What is this?" I ran my fingers over the fabric. "A concealment cloak. Ancient craft. Very rare." She fastened the clasp at my throat. "It won't make you invisible, but it will mask your scent. Blur your presence. Make you harder to track or detect." I stared at her. "This is... this is too valuable. I can't—"

“Your potion… keeps getting stronger.” “It has to be, if you want to stay alive,” Dorian said, releasing his hand. He moved away from me and picked up a long black cloak hanging in the corner of the laboratory. The cloak didn’t look special, but the scent coming from it was very strong—the smell of chemicals, sulfur, and the distinctive scent of Dorian’s laboratory. “Put this on,” he ordered. Dorian stepped closer, and before I could refuse, he draped the cloak over my shoulders himself. His movement was slow, but possessive. As if he were placing a mark of ownership on something valuable.

"He was tall, about six feet... maybe a little over. He wore a white cloak and tunic accented in gold, and the fabric sparkled in the moonlight." Kelvin leaned forward, moving to the edge of his seat. "You didn't see his face?" he asked suspiciously. "As I said, he wore a cloak," Avera reiterated, her eyes locking with his. "I take it that he didn't want to be recognized." He would have pressed further, but Blackridge stopped him. "That is consistent with the testimony of the guards," the Archmage asserted, still scribbling notes. "But she was much closer to him than they were," Kelvin protested, and they looked at him, startled.