48 Results in the "Forging The Flame" category
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Harry stepped through the portrait hole and froze. The common room was still full, every conversation cut off the second they saw him. Of course, they were waiting for him. Ron stood near the fireplace, eyes wide, mouth half open like he was about to speak but didn’t know what to say. Hermione was further back, arms crossed tight over her chest. She looked pale. Surprisingly Neville got to him first. “Are you okay? Where have you been?” he asked nervously. Harry looked at Neville and felt…
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241.7 K • Ongoing
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He had spent years constructing them not as people, but as silhouettes burned into the walls of stories other people told. They had become a kind of myth in his mind, embalmed in secondhand adjectives and mournful looks across dinner tables. Brave. Beautiful. Gone. But myths, when confronted with fact, collapse in ways that feel like betrayal. There was no grandeur in the stone. No revelation in the dates. Only arithmetic. A beginning. An end. Nothing in between. It struck him with the quiet cruelty of a…
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241.7 K • Ongoing
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The corridor outside the Defense classroom was already crowded when Harry arrived. He spotted Daphne near the middle of the group, looking half-bored and half-alert. Everyone was waiting. Moody stood by the door like a gargoyle with a pulse, arms folded, magical eye spinning slow as he watched them gather. “Classroom’s been altered for today,” he said without preamble. “You’ll be going in groups of four. I’ll read the names. When you hear yours, you enter. The moment you step through that…
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241.7 K • Ongoing
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The dormitory was dark, the other boys were sleeping. Harry lay on his back, staring at the ceiling, hands folded behind his head. “Do you think that anger belongs to you, Harry? Or is it something you were given?” He could picture Andromeda’s mouth when she said it, her dark eyes watching him carefully. Harry had never felt so exposed in his life. He tried to push the memory away, but it kept coming back, like a pebble stuck in his shoe he couldn’t shake out. Did it belong to him? He…
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241.7 K • Ongoing
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Harry opened his eyes to the gray light of Sunday morning and reached for his wand without thinking. “Tempus.” The numbers hovered in the air, neat and blue. 9:37. That left him just over an hour before he needed to be in McGonagall’s office. The meeting with Andromeda was at eleven sharp. He sat up, rubbed at his eyes, and swung his legs over the side of the bed. The showers were blessedly empty. He let the water run hot as he brushed his teeth, half-listening to the tap and trying to guess what…
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241.7 K • Ongoing
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