Stories by PEVERELL-LEGACY08

It stood as an unfortunate and inescapable reality, an undeniable truth that compelled one to draw unsettling parallels between the desolate walls of Azkaban and the foreboding aura that permeated every corner of 12 Grimmauld Place. To dismiss such a comparison might be tempting, deeming it overly sentimental or even bordering on the absurd.

It was on a cold October evening that this story began, an evening that, in the eyes of many people, marked the advent of a new era, an era of great upheavals, although it would affect only a certain category of individuals.

The towering hedges that formed the intricate maze cast ominous, ink-black shadows across his path. These thick, swaying stems seemed to create an eerie silence, and it was evident that the maze had been chosen as the setting for the Third Task for a reason.