Mother Magic and the Philosop...

De Pivinne

108K 4.1K 252

Harry James Potter, The boy under the stairs, had always been good at listening to voices in his head. So whe... Mais

Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fourteen - Bonus
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Twenty-Six - The End

Chapter Nineteen- Bonus

2.5K 107 5
De Pivinne


It sat there innocently enough. A cardboard box wrapped in shimmering plastic. In gold on top was the beautiful cursive name of 'Honeydukes- Finest chocolatiers since 1082AD'. It was there when he had come back from the Ravenclaw quidditch party, unassuming enough that Harry forgot for a moment- just a moment- that he had never seen it before.

'What is it? A book? Is it prey? Did you get it for me master?' Ouroboros rolled over the cover, sensing for tremors and heat.

'I assume it's a present for me.' the boy replied, pulling out his wand. Being famous had some perks, sure, but there was no shortage of people out to get him, so he cast a few revealing spells over the box, just to be safe. Nothing. 'Honeydukes, Finest chocolatiers since 1082AD' the box said. And so it remained. Next to the box was a fine slip of parchment, two different inks, one orange, one blue, had written separate sentences on it.

'To our dearest Harrikins.' the orange said. 'Congratulations on your first snitch.' the blue continued. 'F. G.' Was F.G a secret admirer? 'Honeydukes, Finest chocolatiers since 1082AD' the box said. Harry nodded, opening the thin plastic wrap and revealing the chocolates inside. They were clearly quidditch themed, tiny chocolate snitches and biscuit brooms. The tiny chocolate wings seemed to flutter in place, and he took one, a truffle bludger, it seemed, and bit into it. Flavour exploded on his tongue, the most delicious flavours his uncultured tongue had ever experienced. He tried the snitches. Then the broomsticks, then the quaffles, each one wildly different yet equally as delectable. The snitches tasted like vibrant oranges, the broomsticks like salted caramel, quaffles oozing with strawberry cream. 'Honeydukes, Finest chocolatiers since 1082AD' the box said. Harry was inclined to agree.

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