Slytherin Logo Novels & Stories

I frowned as I heard his name, reminds of a biblical traitor or whatever. I waited until the room fell silent and I am alone again. I examined the red envelope; the seal is already broken. But I recognized that it was the seal of our kingdom. It has a growling lion in the middle while sword and shield were in the background. And they were surrounded by vines and has several flowers in them, those are roses. The seal is bathe with gold, but the roses were precisely colored as red, almost similar with the color of blood.

“Trust me, Alex isn’t bad, and enough of the Slytherin bashing. Plus, you’re the one wearing the skin of the humans’ belief in the good mage.” Siobhanny covered her face with her hands and burst into sobs. “How could I’ve been so wrong, prejudiced, fill in your own boring blank?” She peeked up through her — crocodile — tears, and I crossed my arms. “It’s almost like sorcereses haven’t been waging war with mages for centuries or being attacked by wolves.” I snorted. “When were you attacked by a wolve?” Harry’s robes bled into a scarlet hood, when a wicker basket now swung over a slender arm. I gaped at the butthole LLRH, as she slyly studied me back.

Ding, ding, ding, we pull away to see Silvia standing on the stage. “Can the birthday girl please come to the stage.” Silvia says and I feel Octavia stiffen in my hold, she knows what’s coming. We walk up to the stage and our dads come through the side door attached to the stage, holing her cake; a Harry Potter themed three tier cake, the bottom layer is Green (Slytherin), dark chocolate devils’ cake, the middle layer is Blue (Ravenclaw), milk chocolate mud cake and the top layer is the Marauders map, with a silver wolf howling on the top, it’s a white chocolate and raspberry centre sponge cake. There is black frosted roses and other HP symbols positioned around it.

I puffed some air of satisfaction, knowing that I am one step closer to gaining my freedom back. I strode my steps out of the dungeon, following what seemed to be an endless hallway. But stopped momentarily, when I caught a glimpse of the little banners waving outside through a small window I passed by. I suck a deep breath, realizing what it was. The sigil was a wolf howling under the crescent moon. I couldn’t be mistaken. The logo belonged to the Royal Cavern Pack—the most dangerous pack among all packs on the continent! Oh, shit! ‘This is bad,’ Arwen uttered. Her voice was full of uncertainty.

My father had a solemn expression on his face, and my heart clenched with anticipation as he reached for a small, ornate box placed on the antique desk. With a deep breath, my father opened the box, revealing a breathtaking sight—the Silvermoon Clan Alpha's insignia. It was a piece of remarkable craftsmanship, made of pure silver, intricately designed to showcase the clan's symbol—the moon, with every detail etched with precision and care. The insignia held immense significance within our clan, a symbol of honor, authority, and responsibility.

I asked. “Evil, notorious plans. It’s an ancient dark magic that cannot be destroyed or erased. People don’t choose this logo, it chooses them. No one can draw this logo accurately except the ones who it chooses. And the ones who truly know about this logo dread it, for they know it only comes to take away everything from them. Every happiness in their life. This logo feeds on dark energies. And it spares no one, not women, not children…” Morana’s chin trembled as her words came out heavy with shivers of emotions. Morana tried her best, but she couldn’t hold back the tears that trailed down her frozen eyes.

I gave a sad smile, and she nodded in understanding. "Let's go." Ryan ordered, turning and walking towards one of the awaiting carriages. It was in between two other smaller carriages, and on top of it was a flying flag with an image on it. It was the image of a wolf's head in between two crossed swords. That was the logo of the coldmoon pack.

“You flatter me, but thank you.” As she wandered deeper, her gaze landed on something striking mounted on the wall above a stately fireplace. It was a large shield with the name Di Rocco in bold letters, beautifully ornate. The shield was flanked by two banners. To the left hung The Board’s insignia—a black and silver hexagram interwoven with an ankh at its center. To the right was a second emblem, more intricate, marked with a double hexagram, a hexagon at its core, and a small dot in the center of the hexagon.

This place felt like a different world, far removed from our home, as well as servants and luxurious staff. We continued until we reached a massive steel door, its surface marked with the symbol of the Draconis Cor. The symbol of the Cult was a dragon eating its own tail, known as the Ouroboros. The symbol glinted faintly in the low light, a stark reminder of the Cult’s reach and influence. I glanced at Luis, giving him a reassuring nod before turning to the door. I raised my hand and knocked five times, each sound echoing ominously through the empty halls.

The omnipresent emblem could’ve fooled anyone into thinking this was a Harry Potter fan convention. Plus, Wendy knew this wasn’t SU’s official crest. “Team logo,” Asher said, studying her. “You’ve seen our gear—helmets, jerseys, all featuring the bolt.” “Huh.” Wendy averted her gaze. “Must’ve missed it.” “We’re the Syracuse Lightning. Not your thing, so no surprise you didn’t notice.” Her oversight had nothing to do with football and everything to do with a certain Number 7’s physique. “Wait—” Wendy’s head snapped up. “I never told you I dislike football.”