#harrypotterx

Voldemort is my past, present and future.

You're a wizard, Harry.

I open at the close.

While you can still call home the place where your mother's blood dwells, there you cannot be touched or harmed by Voldemort. He shed her blood, but it lives on in you and her sister. Her blood became your refuge. You need to return there only once a year, but as long as you can still call it home, there he cannot hurt you. Your aunt knows this. I explained what I had done in the letter I left, with you, on her doorstep. She knows that allowing you houseroom may well have kept you alive for the past fifteen years.

It’s cruel that I got to spend so much time with James and Lily, and you so little. 

light a fire, light a spark light a fire, a flame in my heart we'll run wild we'll be glowing in the dark

There can be no light without the dark.

     “And under here, Hedwig”—Harry pulled open a door under the stairs—“is where I used to sleep; You never knew me then— Blimey, it’s small, I’d forgotten…”       Harry looked around at the stacked shoes and umbrellas, remembering how he used to wake every morning looking up at the underside of the staircase, which was more often than not adorned with a spider or two. Those had been the days before he had known anything about his true identity; before he had found out how his parents had died or why such strange things often happened around him. But Harry could still remember the dreams that had dogged him, even in those days: confused dreams involving flashes of green light...