99 Results in the "Harry Potter" fandom
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Chapter
Chapter 1
The end-of-year feast in the Great Hall was as lively as ever, the air thick with the sound of clinking goblets, laughter, and the occasional explosion from Fred and George’s corner. Harry barely noticed. His plate of treacle tart sat untouched as his mind wandered back to the events of the past year. The Triwizard Tournament had left its mark especially the second task. “Harry,” Hermione’s voice broke through his thoughts, “why’s that owl staring at you?” Harry blinked. A sleek,…-
14.2 K • Completed
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Harry hated Malfoy Manor. The place reeked of old money and older grudges. Walking up that long gravel path felt like swallowing glass, but Kingsley had been clear. The Ministry needed that artifact. The Malfoys had it. Someone had to negotiate. Lucky fucking him. The house elf led him through corridors he remembered from nightmares. Different now, in daylight. No screaming. No Bellatrix. “Mistress will see you in the private study,” the elf squeaked, gesturing to a door Harry had never seen…-
62.3 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…-
227.3 K • Ongoing
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The corridor defied reason. It was too narrow, yet stretched endlessly, folding in on itself in impossible ways. The air pressed down like a heavy weight, thick and wrong. Each step Harry took sent ripples through the space, the sound of his boots returning twisted and uneven, as though the walls themselves were mocking him. His wandlight trembled, casting fractured beams into the dark. The glow seemed swallowed before it could go far, smothered by the corridor’s strange, suffocating…
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227.3 K • Ongoing
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Chapter
Customs Hold
The screen on Harry’s wall flashed a warning red over Brussels. His desk was a disaster zone of scrolls and manifests, all because some idiot fucked up a shipment of darkness powder. The only light came from his desk lamp, throwing a harsh spotlight on Fleur as she bent over the other side of the massive wood surface. “The Brussels portkey logs. Run them against the customs file from today.” “Oui, Monsieur Potter.” Two weeks. That’s how long Fleur Delacour had been his secretary.…-
9.8 K • Ongoing
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