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July 12th, 1965


Dumbledore--


--well. Here we are again. Eight years now?

The Voldemort brat wrote me declaring his oncoming glorious rule, soon to be Lord of All, Supreme Deathwump, etcetera, ad nauseum. I told him that casting too many Unforgivables at once shrinks one's wand. He'll go in circles for a while trying to figure that one out. Entertaining, I'm sure.

I'm still not sure whether I remember, to be fair. What you said that day. Whether you said that, exactly. Though I am sure that you lied, when you answered, one way or another.

Continuing to explore Muggle literature. Romantic poets dull. Tolkien entertaining. Lichen flourishing. Now know what you were getting at, comparing It to that Sampo-One-Ring idiotic myth complex. You are a right bastard, but I'd rather go back to marriage by owl than never hear from you again.


Gellert

{Thirty-Five Owls}Unde poveștirile trăiesc. Descoperă acum