Weasley Burrow Novels & Stories

She was in her set of pajamas and wrapped in a robe which hem was below her knees. "Amy Leah!" she rushed to my side and hugged me tightly. I hugged her back, sobbing on her shoulder like I was lost in the wilderness. "Hush! Come inside, sweety. Tell me everything!" she whispered and guided me inside their villa, the Weasly Villa. While sitting on the wide white leather couch, my vision rummaged through the whole area of the living room. The wall was coated with a vintage French design where photo frames of Warren and Dakota's family were hung, from their childhood to their university graduation days.

Mara POV The new residential hall was built to comfortably house fifty wolves. We currently have eighty-four. The air inside the massive log-framed building is thick, heavy, and practically suffocating with the scent of damp wool, woodsmoke, and eighty bodies pressed shoulder-to-shoulder. The blizzard has been raging outside for a solid forty-eight hours, an unrelenting, howling wall of white that has completely buried the Shadow Ridge courtyard under three feet of snow. I step carefully over a tangle of sleeping pups near the massive stone hearth, wiping a sheen of sweat from my forehead.

“What’s—?” “Move the children now,” I said, never taking my hands from the wood. “Basement tunnel. Secret bunker beneath the old granary. You know the way.” My voice was steady but low. I could feel the magic signing itself onto the rafters, onto the threshold of the nursery. The runes would hide the children from casual sight, damp the sense of wolves and men and half-trained magics, and make the entrance look like a fallen shelf. It was not perfect, but it would buy time.

It’s not the super definite answer I wanted, but Owen goes on, “Werewolves, as a rule, don’t get tangled up with wizards. We don’t need to; we have the thralls. But there’s animosity between the thralls and outside magic users and that’s what we need to worry about.” “Especially since we’re looking for proof of something they did to us,” I say, so Owen knows I get what he’s talking about. “Exactly.” “So, you know the way to this place?” I ask, and he reaches over to the media console and hits a button. “No, but Daniel does.” Owen presses the button for the GPS and he’s right; it’s taking us exactly where we need to go. Where we need to go is a seedy-looking building in Brixton with a logo th

“Here we are.” Ignoring William’s grumble as he stared out the carriage window, Mercedes sat forward in her seat and admired the enormous estate. Full trees, the land, and greener rolling hills made it a splendid sight. The Burwell’s three-story house had at least three wings added to the structure as it circled around the backyard. She caught a glimpse of the rose garden that seemed to last forever. At the edge of the yard, a cluster of trees led into a small forest.

I heard Theo chuckle back, seeing Rose walking ahead of me with determination in her step as we made our way from the housing ward to medical. Her fiery copper hair bounced with each step, loose and wild waves rippling down her slender back nearly to her full hips, the ashen streak pushed back with a headband she pulled on when we'd come back down to the Bunker after the Triad had left to put out the fires and evacuate the Pack. She'd made me wait in the Portal room, disappearing behind one of the doors before I could stop her. There were three Burhounds she'd wrangled to build the place, all of them had been working for five days now, they weren't meant to be done for another six.

The nest was ready. Tucked behind their hut, near the gentle curve of the river that fed their bathhouse, the burrow was a masterpiece of instinct and care. The entrance was shaded by thick, hanging vines, their emerald green blending with the damp earth. Inside, the space was warm, lined with layers of woven reeds, dried moss, and soft pelts stolen from the upper caves of the clan. The scent of fresh water mingled with the deep, musky aroma of their den, making it the perfect place—safe, hidden, and waiting.

Wilbur replied with a smile. The pair left with their bodyguards with their heads held high, swaggering away. Wilbur shook his head and mumbled to himself, "I'm looking forward to your wedding, too." With that, he drove back to the house at Castlebury. After parking his car at the entrance, he cast a glance around the area and decided that he should look around and familiarize himself with the complex. The neighborhood was pretty big with a central garden. The garden alone was around thirty acres, almost the size of a public park.

Though it went under reconstruction, Boso-boso church still maintains its original architectural design--as per the your guide. At twelve thirty in the afternoon, they left the group and went to Burrow Cafe which is popular because of rustic vacation house and garden theme and it is hidden underneath the garden of events place The Bee House, with only a narrow, rabbit hole-like staircase to lead the way. There are also hammocks, outdoor garden chairs, and greenery all over the place. Aside from the beautiful space, their all-breakfast menu is a showstopper--signature Tender Beef Tapa, black pancit, pizzas, and Burrow signature cheesecake for dessert.

Something like. ‘*“…They’re inside a secret crypt,”*’ she’d said to me that day with Kieran. ‘*“Buried deep below the former Winter Mist packhouse, in a place that outsiders would not find. Not even those who swarmed our land during a war.”*’ Great, so not only did I need to make it all the way down there, but it also sounded like I had to solve a puzzle too. Thea was in some sort of secret compartment where no one had previously searched.