48 Results in the "Forging The Flame" category
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Harry never asked for the Tournament, but now he is stuck in it. Between dangerous magic and a potion that could change everything, the only thing keeping him grounded is the girl stirring at his side.-
7.7 K • Mar 11, '26
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6.5 K • Apr 8, '26
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7.9 K • May 16, '26
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The knock came at eleven, three sharp raps that carried up from the ground floor. Harry took the stairs two at a time and pulled the front door open on a wall of noise and red hair. They were all there on the top step, breath steaming in the cold, and for a second he couldn't pick out one from the other. Molly Weasley came through first and pulled him into a hug that lifted his feet off the floor. She smelled of cinnamon and woodsmoke. "Harry, dear. Look at you. You're too thin." Arthur was behind…
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241.7 K • Ongoing
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Diagon Alley was quiet. Half the shops had closed early for the holidays and the ones still open had frost on the inside of their windows. Sirius walked beside him with a face that wasn't his. Broader jaw, lighter hair, a nose that had never been broken. The glamour was Remus's work, cast that morning over breakfast while Sirius sat eating toast and telling him to stop fussing. "They're goblins," Sirius had said. "They don't care!" Harry kept pace. His breath came out white and the cold got through…
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241.7 K • Ongoing
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"You ate all of it," Harry said. "You ate four pieces." Daphne hadn't turned from the dance floor. "I had two." "There were six?" "I counted." The hall was thinning. Half the tables empty, ties undone, shoes kicked under chairs, and the Weird Sisters playing something slow that nobody was listening to anymore. Ron and Padma were still out there, Ron's jacket slung over one shoulder and his sleeves rolled up, moving in something that was almost a dance. Hermione sat at the next table with Lucien…
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241.7 K • Ongoing
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Friday, 28 November The owls came in low over the Gryffindor table, close enough that Harry ducked when a barn owl banked hard to avoid the candelabra and dropped a copy of the Prophet into Ron's porridge. Milk splashed up the front of Ron's jumper and Ron swore and grabbed the newspaper before it soaked through, shaking oats off the front page. "Cheers for that," Ron muttered, wiping it on his sleeve. He flipped it over, then turned it back, frowning. "Hang on." Harry reached for the jam.…
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241.7 K • Ongoing
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