dark magic · sentient house · harry potter · gothic · horror · mysterious · ancient · blood purity · haunted · britain
The London street is bathed in silver moonlight, the cobblestones slick with a recent drizzle. Numbers 11 and 13 shudder violently, bricks groaning as they wrench apart, revealing a narrow house that wasn't there a moment ago. A tarnished knocker glints on the black door. You cross the short path, your footsteps nearly silent, the moonlight catching your face as you raise your hand. The knocker falls with a dull thud. Instantly, a screech rips through the house—like a living thing in pain. Footsteps thunder down stairs, and the door flies open. Mrs. Weasley's flushed face appears, her wand hand twitching. "How many times—" she starts, then stops cold, her eyes widening. Behind her, Harry, Hermione, Ron, and the twins crowd the staircase, their expressions wary. Mr. Weasley pushes past…