"You must face the lake’s truth," the figure by the lake edge said, lowering the lantern until its light reflected on the surface. "

Gaze into the water, and see what lies within your soul." The barn owl circled the boat, its wings glowing with golden moonlight.

"The lake reveals what you could be," it said, its voice resonating in her mind. "But the choice is yours."

A magical and enchanted lake within the grounds of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, holds a unique power. It gives a person who stares into the lake, the ability to see that which they most desire to manifest. You just have to have the courage to peer into its deep waters.

What do you see when you look into the moonlit ripples?

Prints of my Oil on Canvas 60 x 120 x 3.5cm

He worked in a frenzy, mixing potions and consulting his magical text books looking for the key ingredient to make the most powerful wand ever.

Not a wand that could overpower others, no, this wand will have a special ability that no other wand has ever had.

Eldrin was a master wand maker and alchemist, hunched over his workbench, his fingers stained with ink and potion residue. Unlike others in his craft, he did not rely solely on magic, he sought to understand it, to uncover the delicate chemistry that bound nature and wizardry together.

The night air was thick with mist as Morwen soared through the ruins of Ravenwatch Keep, the secret meeting place of Hogwarts’ lost scholars. A shaft of sunlight cut through the gloom, illuminating the ancient stone steps where an scroll lay, sealed with the crest of the Department of Mysteries. She landed gracefully, her talons curling around the parchment, sensing the weight of its importance.

A shadow stirred in the archway. It was Professor Aldric Hawthorne, an exiled Ravenclaw researcher who had spent his life chasing forbidden knowledge.

“The balance is broken,” he murmured, stepping into the light. “The world cannot survive on magic alone. It must be nurtured, understood."

Deep in the moors of Northern England, shrouded in perpetual mist, lie the ruins of a castle known as the Forgotten Hallows. It is a place spoken of only in hushed tones in wizarding circles, a castle once home to a secretive coven of witches and wizards devoted to the study of death, time, and magic too dangerous to be practiced openly. Legend claims the coven created three enchanted objects known as the Hallows, each one so powerful that it rivaled even the fabled Deathly Hallows.

For centuries, the castle stood untouched, its secrets buried beneath crumbled stone and overgrown ivy. Many seekers who ventured into the ruins were never seen again, while those who returned spoke of strange whispers, glowing eyes in the dark, and the sensation of being watched.

Oil on canvas 12 x 16" £300 unframed

£900 with matching sculpture frame.

In a hidden glade, where sunlight filtered through vibrant leaves, stood a massive tree known as the Guardian. This ancient tree was said to embody the spirit of Elowen, an alchemist who once wielded magic to nurture the earth. She could make flowers bloom in winter and summon gentle rains.

One day, a dark alchemist sought to exploit the forest's resources, threatening to drain its magic. Elowen transformed into the Guardian, binding her essence to the tree and the glade.

A lone wolf stood at the forest’s edge, steam rising from its breath in the cold night air. It lifted its head, ears twitching, eyes gleaming silver. The moon was speaking tonight. Not in words, but in a language older than time.

Deep within the shadows, a figure stood between the twisted trunks. Cernunnos. The Horned One. Guardian of the wild places. The wolf closed its eyes. It understood. To be part of nature was not to rule over it, but to exist within it, to honour it.

As the first rays of dawn touched the hills, the wolf turned back into the shadows. The Horned One nodded, then faded into the mist, his message delivered. The moon had spoken. Would they listen?

Oil on canvas 12 x 16" £400 unframed. Framed is £900

For months, Evelyn had watched the trees of the Forbidden Forest wither, their leaves turning brittle, their magic fading. The centaurs spoke in riddles, the unicorns had vanished, and even the Whomping Willow had grown still. No professor had answers. But Evelyn had found a clue, a forgotten note hidden in the pages of an old Herbology textbook. "The key to nature’s survival lies within the book that breathes."

26 x 21" Mixed media £1500