𝗔𝗖𝗧 𝗜𝗜𝗜 ━━ 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗙𝗜𝗡𝗜𝗦𝗛 𝗟𝗜𝗡𝗘
127. tom marvolo riddle

( song for part I:
as good a reason — paris paloma

song for part II:
can't catch me now — olivia rodrigo )

( cara's note: a lot is happening in this chapter,
keep an eye out for POVs & placement.
it's confusing so feel free to ask questions... 
PLAY THE SONGS! )

˗ˏˋ 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐈 ˊˎ-

HOGWARTS
october, 1981

      𝗛𝗢𝗚𝗪𝗔𝗥𝗧𝗦 𝗔𝗟𝗟𝗢𝗪𝗘𝗗 𝗛𝗘𝗥 𝗧𝗢 𝗙𝗘𝗘𝗟 𝗖𝗔𝗥𝗘𝗙𝗥𝗘𝗘 𝗔𝗚𝗔𝗜𝗡. Within a blink of an eye, she was not heavily alerted or feeling threatened at heart from all risks, Scarlet simply felt blissed out. This boarding school brought that side of them, always, a place full of memories of a time where they did not care about anything.

      When they were just a couple of youngsters with no clue of how tough the real world is.

      After all Bridget had been through, to the world, she was a mere porcelain doll covered in crimson blood... but to Sirius, she was his world.

      To Sirius, she was the girl whose hand he reached for throughout the wizarding war. The hand that had the dark mark engraved on it, the hand that shot curses and punched mirrors and walls and broke noses and drew blood— even in possession of all the sins in the world, her hand would always be the one Black holds onto.

      Now, she decided to intertwine their fingers and vow to never let go, vow to cherish him as though he drew the entire canvas of glittering constellations above their heads.

      Autumn leaves fell upon her perfectly styles hair, a diamond tiara set on her head.

      The chilly air flushed her arms, and she rubbed the exposed area of her skin where some scars littered. Scarlet pushed that uneasy feeling away by forcing funnelled air from her mouth, a cloud of frozen condensation in the form of O twirling in the air.

      As though she was smoking.

      Dawn settled, a screen of burnt orange and vermillion preventing loud clicks of her high heels as they collided with the ground with an echo. She was alone at the moment, with Sirius still out in the city somewhere 'getting ready', it had been hours.

      At the end of the corridor she walked down—in her marvellous wedding dress decorated with a million dollar jewels—was Alastor Moody holding an expression of pride and equal annoyance.

      One of the gardens in the back was where the ceremony is meant to take place—Everest threw more and more pearls and flowing candlesticks onto the area. She made sure all those heirlooms and traditional diamonds from the Bridget vault stuck to Scarlet's dress perfectly, that dazzling haze alluring even the phantoms. 

      Times were dangerous but trusted Aurors and other witches and wizards made sure to bring as much safety as they could onto the area; everybody promised to attend including the Potters who insisted on not missing the day.

      Sirius wanted to get married late at night, some sort of strange fantasy of his that Scarlet obliged to. So, at the moment, only Chasseur was roaming around in the castle to ensure everything was going smoothly whilst all the other guests did not arrive yet.

A tiny smile appeared at the corner of Moody's lips, "you look beautiful," he said, "not that I approve of any of this. You should be in hiding."

"Relax, old man," she arched her brow, shooting him a pointed look as he rolled his artificial eye, "I can take care of myself."

"Truth be told, this is the happiest people in this school have been for months," Moody said, "even the kids who are not even attending the wedding— but you can bet they'll be watching from the windows."

      Scarlet laughed lightly, and a moment of silence hovered over them when Moody decided to take this as a cue to walk away.

"Moody, look... I'm not trying to insinuate that you're an old man or something," she cut herself off before she messed up her words even more. Moody merely oddly looked at her, glaring at her with an offended look.

"What is going on, Bridget?" he squinted his eyes at her nervousness.

"Will you walk me down the aisle?" The words tumbled out.

      Moody shot her a look. Scarlet went quiet. The silence was so draining, pin-drop sound could be heard.

"I'm not inviting any of my family to the wedding, Aster's not here and I'm not going to ask a professor to walk me down because... that's just stupid, I don't like most of them but you... you trained me to be a fighter, you knew my mum very dearly, and there is no one else I'd rather have 'give me away',"

Moody still had an unreadable expression on his face, and Scarlet kept her fingers crossed in hope of his acceptance. Suddenly, a little smile made its way back to his face, "Well, Bridget, if it was up to me, I wouldn't give you away to Black at all, I mean, are you kidding—" he huffed in mock-disgust.

Scarlet burst out into a peal of laughter, "You're so dramatic, I don't know why everybody is so scared of you."

"I'm not even kidding, Bridget," Moody laughed, stepping towards her, "Why would I give my daughter away to that?"

Scarlet didn't stop laughing, she only laughed harder when he started to laugh too. The room fell silent again when the two stopped laughing with a large exhale.

"I wish you a happy life, daughter," Moody said, and the smile on her face warmed his heart. "Seriously, I hope you two get everything you ever wanted; I wish Celeste was here for such a special day."

"Thank you, Moody," she smiled, taking a step back and smoothening the fabric of her dress. Bridget realised she must have been healing. For the mention of Celeste's name surely made her heart skip a beat but it did not shatter into pieces anymore. She had learned to come to accept the end of her mother's life, after almost four years. "I wish she were here too."

Moody smiled one last time and turned around to leave. Then he halted on his steps.

He turned around, brows furrowing as he scrutinised her until she felt uneasy about his behaviour. He stepped towards her very quickly, stumbling over. He looked taken aback, gulping as though he was trying to shove away his assumptions and pretend nothing happened.

      Excruciatingly slowly, his mechanic eye glanced right down to—

      To her stomach.

"What?" She whispered. Her panic-ridden heart threatened to bounce out of her ribs.

He glanced back up, now at close proximity as he exhaled loudly, "if you don't mind me asking," he slowly said, "are you with child?"

      Scarlet's heart dropped. Her expression pulled to a tight frown.

"What?" She whispered, eyes wide now, her heart crying out in panic.

Moody scrutinised her a little more, and nodded confidently, "you're with child."

      Just when everything was going according to plan... that—the baby—was not a part of the fucking plan.

"I don't think—"

"You're three months in... how do you not know?" Moody scolded, eyes now wide open in astonishment as he regarded her steps with concern, watching a foggy look cast over her irises. "You're a witch, you should have figured it out—"

"Well, I did not," she shot back, rubbing the bridge of her nose and letting out a huff of annoyance and shock, "this cannot be happening— I'm not ready!"

      The world shifted. The air around her fluctuated and sucked out all the air left in her corrupted lungs. Now... it was not only her who would struggle to breathe when her heart rides into panic, it will also be another soul inside her to struggle through it. 

      The way her heart lurched into a race could be medically lethal. An aching, poignant, nervous panic that shivered down to her core.

"Hey, hey," he placed a hand on her elbow gently, not exactly sure on how to comfort anybody, especially a Bridget who looked that anxious, "look— I'm sure as soon as you discuss this— the situation with Black, it'll be alright... you'll be alright, Bridget."

      Scarlet nodded lightly, trying to steady her breaths. This was too soon, a wedding is just fine in its place but a child... she was not ready for it.

      The conversation was interrupted by a blazing luminescence from outside, bright enough to shoot through the windows and shatter them. It was painful, really. Scarlet shielded her face with her arms, watching Moody follow suit.

"What the f—" she was about to swear.

"Stay here," he warned, "I'm not kidding, do not go anywhere; I'll warn the others— we're under attack."

"Hold on, hold on!" She exclaimed, gripping his arm tightly so he halts on his steps, "what are you on about? This is Hogwarts."

"I know that, Bridget," he scoffed, "look outside, that is clearly aiming to harm!"

      Scarlet glanced at the terrifyingly bright light from the window out in the sky, blinding the lot of them. 

"You need to get everybody to safety," Scarlet tells him, "nobody leaves the castle and command them to stay put, do not let anyone fight back."

"I am going to fight—" He started to say, shocked that she would suggest for him to stay inside. 

"Moody... please, just stay inside and take care of everybody," she pleaded, eyes now teary, "I'll handle it. I always do, and besides... this is my fault." 

      This is my fault, Alastor squinted his eyes towards her, expression filled with perplexation and equal astonishment. He could not help those suspicious thoughts crawl onto his head, and then he shook them away as he convinced himself that Scarlet may have chosen the wrong words. This was a moment of horror after all, seemingly a hoax.

"Moody, if something goes wrong—"

Moody cut right in, "I'll take care of Black, don't you worry—"

"I'm not talking about Sirius, he has plenty of people who will stand by his side," said Scarlet softly, "take care of Eve."

Moody's jaw clenched as though he was contemplating on whether to listen to the girl; after a few seconds, he finally nodded, "nothing will go wrong, Bridget."

      So, in an usual Scarlet manner, she gambled with her life. She stepped out of the building to witness the situation.

      Whatever this leads to, it will call for a meeting. With all of their friends gathered once again, wedding or not, sitting in a jagged circle and talking. Everybody would be there— the Longbottoms, the Potters, Chasseur, Lupin, Bridget, Black, Pettigrew... with the exception of the two girls they have lost along the way. 

      Scarlet could already imagine it. After all, she has seen this film before. 

      The mood in the air would be so heavy, so thick with dark contemplation and unspoken thoughts that it would be hard to stay focused—everybody too consumed in their own worries.

       It has always been a weird sight—but not an unfamiliar one to this exclusive group of people—to have everyone sitting around the room with their heads in their hands, staring at the ground, wringing their hand and rubbing their foreheads with palpable stress... every expression one of melancholy and poignancy. Lips pressed hard together, chests tight, shoulders tense from whatever ridiculous story being told aloud. 

      Not to mention that Scarlet would have to tell Sirius about that specific information Moody blurted out suddenly—the one involving a child in her womb. 

      Emotions swarmed in her chest, how were they going to persevere this? Would one of them wind up alone? Those feelings coursed through her veins at an unbearably rapid pace.

      In a world where teenagers are protected from the harsh reality, from troublesome nightmares, their minds were ruined. 

      There was light everywhere. Hot, blazing light illuminating the entire night sky. Scarlet sighed loudly, smokes forming out in the cold air with her breath. Her wand was in her hand, she clutched it tightly and tried to make sense of it all. It did not make any sense, it was just a bright light and it did not mean anything— despite all that grand knowledge she had about all sorts of spells.

      She was biting down on her bottom lip, trying to find something in her mind which would help dial down the situation, understand it before something terrible happened.

"Excuse me, ma'am?" A little voice said. Scarlet whirled around and watched a bunch of Gryffindor first years standing side by side—ten of them. One of the little girl's jaws dropped at the sight of the blonde woman.

"You look beautiful!" she gaped.

"Focus, Lizzy!" A boy said, elbowing her in the ribs.

"Is that going to kill us?" One of the ones with no filter asked. Scarlet could not believe these kids snuck out as soon as they saw a killer curse approaching. Stupid Gryffindors. No survival instincts. If she were their mother, she would probably go mad. She hopes her child— her child, it felt strange to think of it— never turns out to be a Gryffindor. She'd die.

"Yes," Scarlet replied bluntly. "It's gonna kill us all, unless someone stops it."

"We can fight it!" One chimed in, a girl with bright red hair.

"No, go back in," Scarlet ordered, turning back around and staring at the sky again. "Are you deaf? I said go back inside!"

"Let us stay!" The girl who complimented her exclaimed loudly. "We can help, let us help."

Scarlet was frightened to death about the idea of more and more innocent people getting hurt in a war that was not their fault—especially children. "Go back."

"We can—"

"I don't care, you little shits," apparently, being mean was the one way to change their mind. "Go back in, do your homework, keep your mouth shut about it and fuck off, will you?"

The children did not even flinch., merely squint their eyes. "You're a Slytherin, aren't you?" A girl asked.

Another one slapped that girl's arm, "Of course, she's a Slytherin."

The spark of light neared. Scarlet whirled around, "Go back inside, you fucking morons!"

"Be safe," one of them took on an encouraging tone. "I believe you can do it, if you channel that mean energy into defeating it,"

      Fucking Gryffindors.

"I'll handle it," she said through gritted teeth, although a smirk made its way to her lips. This made all of them smile a little. "Now usher along and let the grown ups handle it."

They finally started to walk away, waving cheerfully. As though she did not just reveal the curse was going to kill everybody. "Good luck!" One screamed.

"Hurry! We've to tell McGonagall about the mean lady!" said one.

"You can do this!"

      A second of quiet passed as Scarlet's eyes roamed the yard. Then a voice tore through the murky blanket of silence.

"Scarlet Bridget." A voice sounded. Scarlet turned around, whirling around and glancing at every expanse of the area, trying to figure out where the call was coming from. "Scarlet," it was ringing in her head, a deep and familiar and intimidating voice was playing at the bottom of her mind.

      She was hyperventilating now, fear encapsulating her heart. The light in the sky shone brighter, the curse approaching faster and closer. She gulped and walked around, pacing near the forest and trying to find the voice.

"Closer, Scarlet, come closer." The dark voice sounded. Her footsteps halted and she slowly started to walk closer to the forest.

      Then she saw him, further away from her. Very far and yet his voice rang in her head so loudly.

      Riddle was in a cheap, shaggy set of robes, messy black hair atop his head.

"Well, you look like you've been through hell." She laughed at him, a mocking and hysterical laugh. It must have caught him off guard— the way she blurted out a peal of menacing laughter.

"Come closer, Scarlet." He whispered in a raspy tone.

"You'll never win, you know?" She cried, voice raw and confident. "Kill all babies and all nemesis but you will never win."

"I already have won, Miss Bridget," his voice said, still ringing in her head. "If you are what stands between me and my will of power, I will end you."

Riddle's eyes clung to the darkness, trying to decrypt the sinewy shapes coalescing with the show. Trees. Elongated trees that bristled with wildlife within the Forbidden Forest. He shot a curse, a blazing red curse that played in the air like electricity, "Pestis Incendium!"

      Powerful enchanted flames shot towards her, every tree around the valley blazing. The fire shaped into a serpent, gliding towards her.

"Protego Diabolica!" She fluttered her wand, shooting a curse right back, conjuring a circle of black fire. She heard myths and stories about how this spell was once used by notorious dark wizard Gellert Grindelwald. Except, she could not cast it as marvellously as the old wizard did but it was powerful enough to shield herself and Hogwarts from Riddle's trick.

      The two immensely powerful curses cast by two of the most powerful witches and wizards merged in the middle, and it collided to form a circular shape in the air. For a second, Scarlet could only think of how exquisite it looked, as though all the beauty in the world was defined by this magic.

      Hung on the edge of life, she stood and admired the very thing that had her death written on it.

      As if a ravaging storm had stirred a sky-full of electronic energy, the circular pattern above the canopy of burnt trees was teeming with a willowy glow, incandescent. As if the sun's radiance was saturated solely right into the freezing palms of Scarlet Bridget and Tom Riddle.

      As their curses connected in the air and spread to obscure darkness, Scarlet thought about why she was so compelled to enquire heavier power than Riddle. Surely, all of what she did could not be a result of her Slytherin blood of determination.

      It was more. Something else.

      Not because he ruined her life, as she loved to claim— he didn't. All those trances she sunk in, he spared her from the pain of remembering all the bloodshed. Whilst he could have easily used the Imperius Curse, he resorted to other options. Option that eventually gave her a choice where she willingly joined his side. Well, sort of.

      So, why did Scarlet Bridget go above and beyond to bring Riddle to his knees? To demolish every thread he used to build himself an ivory tower?

      Only one reason as to why.

      Spite.

Then a massive, overwhelming explosion took place, scattering a ringing sound that pierced the ears of every witch and wizard on the Hogwarts grounds. Both Scarlet and Riddle stumbled even further away from each other due to the force of the detonation, the ground shook and the trees swayed violently. Red and blue bits shooting around like stars everywhere. The entire forest was lit up.

      A humming noise reverberated in the chill silence of the dawning night. The scattering curses around them, the fire the two of them wielded and held onto was still hovering over their heads; both of them stubborn, willing them to stay put despite the blooming ache beginning to pulsate their brains.

"YOU BETRAYED ME!" He bellowed, his voice piercing her mind. Scarlet gasped in pain, placing her hands against her ears to ease the agony his shouting caused. She was crouching down a little, panting loudly. It hurt. Everything hurts. Her head was killing her, a deep pigment of pain tearing her brain apart. "TRAITOR!"

      She stayed silent. Even after all this, he spoke in her mind at an enormous distance because he could not risk stepping closer and talking to her normally. What a fucking coward.

"We could have done such great things together, Scarlet," he said, gently this time, as though he was wondering of all great things they could have done together, "I asked you to join me, I came to you myself in hopes that we will conquer the entire country together."

      "I promise you all the power in the world and you choose... you choose love?" His tone held disgust and deep resentment, "I thought so highly of you, I thought there could never be a greater witch than you— I..." he paused, and then spoke intimidatingly, "you should have appreciated all that I offered you."

"You're here to kill me," she declared the obvious, "and someday, you'll regret it because you could've had me by your side if you had a heart. Not as a devoted follower but as someone who understands you despite your history."

"It is not understanding that I need, it is power and bringing your end, a Bridget heiress' end will help me achieve it," he explained, "don't you understand? I eliminate all threats to my plan."

"You're not threatened by me due to the immense power and dignity in my blood, it is because I have one thing that you never will, even if you crawl and beg."

"And what is that?" His voice was intimidatingly low now, "love?"

"Yes," she whispered, "I feel sorry for you because you'll never know how peaceful and beautiful it is to be loved and understood. You can have your country and all your protection but you'll never get a family."

"Enough." He glared, eyes flashing red.

"You'll have all the power in the world but you'll wind up to be cold and miserable and so excruciatingly lonely," her voice got gentler and gentler as she spoke each word, "so you can go and destroy your enemies, live your immortal life and search every corner of the world craving desperately for a little solace by your side and it'll be far too late to realise what a pathetic, loveless man you are. A mere man with no partners, with people who fears you but never respects you, and a shame of a name, Riddle."

      She flicked her wand, and the wide yellow flame cast by Riddle that was expanding all over was now shrieking, getting smaller and smaller and getting sucked into the tip of her wand. Until she couldn't hold it anymore. It was strong, and she could only hold so much strength. 

Riddle went ahead and cast another spell, it was a bright white on resembling luminescence of the stars. He muttered an incantation except... it was one she's never heard before. Tom Riddle created a curse to merely kill Scarlet Bridget. 

      The curse enlarged, spreading around— aiming to not only end her but the entire of Hogwarts. With so many professors, and so many innocent children in it. With Everest inside.

      Bridget held on, clutching her wand with her gloved hand. Until she couldn't hold it anymore. It was wrong, and she could only hold so much strength. Her wand dropped to the ground and—

      The curse hit her. In the chest. The last bit of the blue electricity-like flame hit her as she stumbled back, dropping to the grassland.

      A shot of magic hit her heart before it could hit the castle of Hogwarts.

      She was still breathing. Riddle disappeared.

      As she walked back to the castle, hyperventilating, her heart was still beating at a normal rate. There was no blood, no pain, no nothing. The ringing in her head vanished, only the clicks of her heels remained.

      Pieces of barks and twigs stuck to her alluring wedding dress. Like a runaway bride who travelled to hell and back. 

      Then... Scarlet knew. Her gloved hand clutched her stomach.

      She just knew. 

      A curse like that could never be deflected, not even by a powerful witch like her. If she could not feel her heart deteriorating, if it had not aimed to kill her soul then it must have... it must have targeted another soul.

˗ˏˋ 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐈𝐈 ˊˎ-

GODRIC'S HOLLOW
october, 1981

MOMENTS AFTER THE ATTACK OF HOGWARTS

       Tom Riddle aimed to kill Scarlet Bridget the moment he started to fear her. Fear did not exist in his veins—consisted of corrupted blood and a shameful last name that he could never outrun. Meetings held in Rosier Manor and residing in Malfoy Manor and sharing unique solidarity with the Blacks never meant he would be one of them. His name may bring people to their knees and yet his name would never be carved in gold or be worthy of uttermost respect and power.

      Scarlet Bridget was exotically powerful.

      With the Bridget lineage's incomparable magic in her blood, Salazar Slytherin's power passed down to her and with blood as pure as gold, Riddle was never going to overthrow her when it came to power and wealth. He would always be the lesser man next to a 21-year-old woman.

      He wondered what on earth could possess a woman like her to stand in the way of deadly curses to save others.

      He wondered what caused her to search for love and care and a family when she possessed such immense force and ability and influence. Tom felt humiliated because of her—the Bridget's name alone put him to absolute shame.

      Scarlet Bridget had the power to conquer the world and yet she chose love and family over it. Why, why, why?

      Tom Riddle could have all the abilities and followers in the world and yet he could not get his family. It was the one thing he just could not get—a family.

      It was a morbid reminder that he was never one of theirs—one of the Sacred 28's. He could kill and cause bloodshed and leave claw-marks on people's happiness but he would never be one of theirs. Sure, he shared the same desires and powers as them but they all had one thing he never did.

      A family.

The Malfoys, Blacks, Bridgets, Notts, Carrows, Lestranges, Rosiers, they all had a home to go back to whenever they wanted. When the time comes, they would all always choose their family. Never him.

      Scarlet Bridget had a home to go back to. Instead of standing by his side as he conquered the world and brought everybody to their knees, she sought solace elsewhere. She stood against him and looked into the green light of death as her wand shot blazing, horrifying crimson. The crimson light that overshone the constellations above and stopped a curse created by Voldemort himself.

      She let her power go to waste and he hated her for it.

      It was dejecting enough that she had the privilege of love and family and she just had to possess more powerful and dangerous abilities than him. It was... humiliating.

      Tom Riddle wanted her gone with every impulse of his body and yet he could not help but mourn. Mourning for the force he could have had by his side if incidents did not go south.

      So utterly humiliating.

      His ride to Godric's Hollow was strange. That fear had been engraved so deep into his twisted heart, he could not get rid of it. He loathed it every time he turned around hastily—alarmed that the phantom of Scarlet would haunt him and stab him with a dagger right in the back.

      Then again, Scarlet would never stab him in the back the way he did her—she's not a coward.

      'For however long he shall live, she will evermore cast a haunting shadow over his head — dead or living.'

      He could feel her presence despite prompting his mind that she would go away. She would not stand in his way anymore. There was nobody out there wielding a force more powerful than him—the almighty Dark Wizard. Yet, yet his mind had to constantly remind himself that the monstrous soul he swore he visioned was just a tree. The cloaked figure appearing here and there was just an illusion. 

      Surely, the curse would kill her.

      He knew she left and somehow, he could not convince himself that. Even in his last moments, Scarlet had haunted his visions—reminding him of his misfortune and cowardice. Until he took his very last breath, Tom was constantly tormented and was never able to escape the memory of her.

      The worst part was that even though she was gone, he could not get away. He heard her tormenting soft voice and flashes of her figure came in glimpse as he blinked. He may have tried his best to get rid of her physically yet her soul never left his mind. Imprisoning a figure had always been easy, it was forgetting that was hard.

      The worst part was that even after everything, he could not get rid of her spiritually.

      He died—utterly humiliated. Watching the blazing green eyes of Lily Potter which shone brighter than the Killing Curse itself and no fear present in those irises, he realised he was not feared. 

      Voldemort was not feared by Lily Evans Potter—a mere Muggle-born witch.

      It took him by shock when the redheaded mother refused to step out of the way. Mourn danced in her irises, grief for her dead husband who laid on the stairs. "You'll try your best to kill her but she'll haunt you forever." Lily's voice was cruel and sharp. She was referring to Scarlet Bridget and it only raged Voldemort even more. 

      How dare she? Until the very end, everything reminded him of her. Bridget. He was not going to die with a fear of Bridget engraved in his cold heart.

      All whilst Lily knew of the events at Hogwarts from Everest's letter, Lily did not know whether Voldemort's curse killed Scarlet—she was desperate for an answer though. Lily did not know anything about what was happening on the other side of the country.

      Lily reminded herself of everything Scarlet had done against Voldemort—her cunning mind and selfless acts. It was when Lily Potter remembered Scarlet's bravery and the sacrifice of her youth and the way Voldemort aimed to kill her friend, she stopped requesting him to spare Harry.

      It was that moment something snapped in her mind like a twig and she harshly taunted him. The moment she realised he was going to destroy everything despite what she says or how much she begs.

"Coward."

      Although Lily said the word in a melancholically soft way, as though she pitied the Dark Lord, not exclaiming at him out of hatred, Voldemort felt a churn of defeat in his mind at the mocking tone. If he could not scare a Muggle-born... he deserves nothing.

"Get away from my son!" Was the last thing she yelled out before crumbling to the ground like a pile of rocks. 

      In the end, it was the one thing Tom Riddle never understood—the idea of love—that killed him.

      It was the power of a Muggle-born witch that brought the end of the omnipotent Voldemort.

𝑪𝑨𝑹𝑨 𝑺𝑷𝑬𝑨𝑲𝑺

no comment lol

did any of this even make any sense?