Death is but the Next Great Adventure

The Calm

Author's note: Hey guys! I know, it's been a century! I never meant to take that long off of the story, however I had a few things going on in my life that kept me from writing. I don't really share much about my life but with me being gone for so long, I figured those few who are still sticking around ought to have a little insight. And sorry if this is TMI, you can totally skip this!

I have depression and very debilitating anxiety. It totally took over my life and since I've always been really bad at asking for help or saying when I'm having a hard time, it took a long time for me to start back on a road to getting better and finding my love for the world again. I still struggle a lot, and I can't promise that I won't go into anxiety-hibernation again, but writing will always be something I return to. It's my voice, my passion, my love.

As for this story, after coming out of the dodgy-mental haze, I wasn't really happy with what I had planned for the story going forward and it took me a while to realize just what was wrong and what I wanted to change. I had a plot-epiphany though! And I'm very excited for what I have lined up.

I got a new job, so I don't know how regular the updates will be, but they'll come eventually! Hope you all have a wonderful night/morning/day!

And remember, deep breaths, the world has a lot of wonderful, effervescent things coming your way.

In the last chapter: Harry relieves some stress and Tom has a revelation.

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The horrible and yet wonderful thing about Harry Potter, was that he's inescapable. Unavoidable. He entangles himself in your thoughts and confronts you even in your dreams. He is such gentle corruption. . .

Which would have been fine, had Tom been anyone else.

But he wasn't. He thought he had confronted his demons and his past after the resurrection. He thought he could come to terms with who he was and still be close to Harry. However, once the truth of his draw to Harry revealed itself in the dead of night and he realized that his feelings were not quite so platonic . . . well . . . he could no longer cope with his relationship with Harry. It was one thing to be his friend. But that apparently wasn't all that Tom wanted.

And he . . . he couldn't. . .

Harry was still so young and Tom killed his parents!

These thoughts circled his mind like a murder of crows in the days following his revelation. For the first time, he couldn't bring himself to write Harry. His chest was just too tight with guilt. For his feelings, for his desires, for Harry's parents, for not being able to write Harry, for starting a blaze under the bridge of their beautiful friendship. But mostly, he felt guilty for not being able to stamp out his feelings despite knowing that they would eventually ruin the best thing in his life.

When he finally wrote to Harry, it was a lie about being too busy for the next week or so to be able to write again.

He couldn't crush the beautiful thing in his chest, so he ran from it.

... ... ... ...

Albus Dumbledore has failed. He's looked everywhere for signs of Voldemort and the Horcruxes he knew the wizard must have made. But there was nothing. Not even a flicker of his influence or Death Eater resurgence. The incident at the World Cup was already proven to have been a few desperate ex-Death Eaters trying to spread a bit of terror again. He's been reading between lines that didn't exist and counting stars that turned into muggle satellites.