Slytherin Signs Novels & Stories

Nix took a deep breath and finally answered his question. “Yes, a girl and boy. Sage and Slyven are their names. I know you can already guess that Sage is a princess. Slyven is werewolf. I didn’t know that could happen.” Nix told her father, then looked at the two sitting near her. Sage seemed happy that she would be in a group of people that wanted to know her.

It was a choke collar disguised as parchment. The classroom glowed with suspended enchantments. Floating scrolls circled overhead, each bearing a realm sigil—Lycandra’s silver moon, Lycan’Dra’s crowned wolf, Valoria’s crystalline spires, Drakonis’s blackened flame, and the serrated green seal of the Wilds. They drifted around like bored little planets, glowing faintly as if reminding us: these are the powers running your life. Professor Eliane’s voice snapped like a blade, her pale hair yanked back so tight it practically buzzed with tension. She tapped her quill against the board, sharp staccato strikes that made the wards hum in response.

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

She just said 'ALHOMOHRA' the harry potter spell used for opening doors magically. " What nonsense Davina ! " said the boy and moved away. " S...Sorry ... Stathis ." said the girl. Stathis didn't say anything just raised his hands in to show it's okay. Davina then turned back to Cynthia and Ada to apologize. She looked a bit embarrassed. She was about to say sorry that Cynthia and Ada spoke together smiling, " It's okay muggle's won't understand." This made Davina smile. " OH Great, New potter heads in Tombstone high. By the way am Davina a Slytherin., s he said.

“Wait, where is Trixi?” “Here” I turn to see my sister, she is glowing and proudly wearing the royal crest on her mate's mark. I whistle as I move her hair out the way, the golden mark is beautiful. It looks the same as aunt Len’s but with S and B where my aunt has L and O. My mother smiles looking proud as she investigates my sister's mark. “Lets see yours” Bellatrix says, almost bouncing on the spot with excitement. I groan but pull down the collar of my shirt. My sister gasps and both my mother and aunt Len put their hands over their mouths and Emerald just smiles.

The pain was brief but sharp, like a reminder that this moment mattered. I raised my hand over the bowl filled with rich, dark soil of Valeria, branded with the royal sigil that seemed to look different now, even though I had seen it a thousand times before. As my blood dropped in the bowl, I could feel something shift in the air…something that felt weird. Then I wiped the dripping blood off with my thumb, pressing down on the scroll with my name in fancy script which signified my enrollment to the Academy.

What if she doesn’t want to be Queen or them Kings? Draco was a formidable thirty-nine-foot silver dragon. Silver denoted Mystics. Their eyes were the color of gemstones. The color represented the primary element that they drew their power from. Draco’s eyes were an electric blue because he drew his power from water. One might think that fire would be the most powerful element, but it was not. Water was because there were water molecules in the air that could be used as an extensive power source. Also, when there was no other way to fight, the water could be harnessed.

I whisper to Nathan. Beneath the “werewolves” column, she neatly prints, “Nathan and Bailey: Reproductive Spell.” Changing from her black marker to a red one, she makes a bullet point below it: “Bailey = Tyr” and “Nathan = Fenrir” “We know enough about the spell that we understand the symbolism,” she says, moving to the next column. She notes there that thralls cast the spell on us. Then, under “unknown,” she writes “moonstone.”

As if she had stamped it into my memory by just saying so, I nodded back in confirmation. I asked, "How will I recognize the chosen one?" The healer's voice held a touch of mystery. "The chosen one will bear the mark of Lythian, a birthmark shaped like a crescent moon on their right shoulder. They will possess unique abilities and a very, very strong spirit." I squinted, "They?" He nodded, "Yes, they. The chosen one is two in one."

Their shock rolled over us in a crashing tide of whispers and gasps. And on our skin, at the exact hollow of my collarbone, mirrored on Caelum’s, Elias’s, and Lucien’s, the Concord Sigil branded itself in living light. Not seared, not scarred, but visible. A faint shimmer like molten gold, pulsing in time with our heartbeats. The silence broke like glass. Gasps from the students. Shouts from the balconies where proctors had been freed from their bonds. Murmurs that sharpened into outrage as the glow sank in.