At 7:23PM on the 27th of December 1995, Harry James Potter died. His body had been under intense stress for 15 years, and the final 12 hours of his life were the breaking point. The pressure placed on his mind from the magical connection between all eight, yes eight, of Voldemort's horcuxes caused his brain to stop receiving information from his nervous system, slowing down all his vitals, and stopping his heart.
He had two funerals. One for the press; public; and world, and another for his family, friends, and lovers.
There were tears at both.
So, so many tears.
Why are you crying now?
Oh my dear reader, were you expecting a fairytale? Did you want the raven haired Prince Charming to ride off on horse back with his completely cured white haired damsel?
I'm sorry but this isn't a fairytale.
This is reality.
Cold, harsh reality.
And this is the truth to. Because Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy were both simply Pawns.
The world is a game of chess and I had to give my two pawns up.
For the greater good of course.
Because both of them were doomed from birth. Both horcruxes. Both carriers of an evil man's soul. Except one of them knew, and one did not.
Draco Malfoy held three long scars on his back, the result of a fraction of a soul being magically attached to him.
The life that was taken away?
His mother's.
And that was the blackness that nagged at the corners of his mind. A constant battle for the parasite-like soul to want to murder Harry Potter, and to want to protect its partner.
I understand that you're confused.
Draco Malfoy died on the 1st of January 1996. Time - Unknown. Suicide, most people say, but I know better. He killed himself with the basilisk fang in my office, a final desperate attempt to beat the evil inside of, and outside of, him.
It worked.
Draco Malfoy had no funeral. He was, tragically, hated by everyone.
Almost everyone
He was buried next to Harry Potter, much to the general public's dismay.
But who could keep them apart?
They were quite literal soul mates after all.
Every so often, however, you would see a bushy haired girl standing by his small, understated grave, leaving a white rose wreath between his and his lover's final resting places, a single gossamer tear drifting down her recently sallow cheek.
There are 6 horcruxes left.
I need you, dear reader, to look through the memories I have left before this note and decide.
Will you take up this challenge?
Will you become our worlds new chosen one?
Will you, my dear dear reader, finish what I, Harry Potter, and Draco Malfoy, started?
Our entire world depends on it.
Send your response by owl to Hogwarts School Of Witchcraft And Wizardry as soon as you can.
Maybe with the help of someone like you, we can defeat this.
Sincerely,
Albus Percival Wolfrick Brian Dumbledore.
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Perfectly Broken (Under Editing)
Fanfiction"The fire on his wrists cast shadows into his thoughts."
