He was darkness.
He was death.
He was pain.
He was suffering.
He was a mystery. One she intended to solve.
"You wouldn't kill me, Tom." "Avada Kedavra!"
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He was darkness.
He was death.
He was pain.
He was suffering.
He was a mystery. One she intended to solve.
"You wouldn't kill me, Tom." "Avada Kedavra!"
Everything about him was poisonous, his looks, his power and, most of all, his magic.
And yet, she knew she would never want him to change, because, for her, he was perfect just the way he was, with...