1: Albus Dumbledore Is A Liar

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Warning: This chapter contains disturbing content and animal abuse. Read at your own discretion.

December 13th, 1990

"What happened to my father after my mother was punished?"

Dumbledore looked sympathetic. "Well, despite not being married, your father was heartbroken at the death of your mother. In a crazed state, he hung himself."

* * *

~AlBuS dUmBlEdOrE iS a LiAr~

* * *

February 17th, 197?

Jonathan Erwin was an uneducated man of humble origins. In his early thirties, he ran a small, unextraordinary pub in the outskirts of East London. He had a respectable amount of customers daily, and he made just about enough to sustain his own unremarkable life.

There was nothing impressive about his appearance, nor his choice of clothing. A fair-haired, pale eyed, unshaved, scrawny little man, his life could be discribed as the epitome of average. This suited him just fine.

If it only weren't for a single irritating customer.

"How's it going, Johnny?!"

John groaned unenthusiastically. He was here.

A familiar, long haired pillock with bright eyes slammed his hand onto the table in front of John and grinned at him.

John, who was casually wiping a mug clean with a cloth, didn't even look up.

"Aw, Johnny, don't be like that!"

"What are you, an American?" John grumbled. The man was so eccentric that he may as well be.

"Racist much?" the stranger scowled in response. "You're the same as ever, John."

And it was true, John would be lying if he said he didn't feel a little strongly about the superiority of the British.

"That attitude of yours is disgusting, Johnny," the bright-eyed man berated. "We're all people, all human."

John couldn't be bothered to retort. It would just lead to the same old thing.

"So?" he said impatiently, setting down his overly-wiped mug. "What extraordinary tale have you got to tell me this time?"

The long-haired man grinned. He never came for the drinks. He only ever came to sing for his non-existent supper. Retelling stories of his exciting life to his old schoolmate. The overly-hyper little fart.

"Johnny boy, just wait till you hear this!" the man responded jovially as expected.

What now...

"I think I'm in love!"

What.

"So?" John groaned.

The man held his heart in mock-sadness.

"You wound me, Johnny, how you wound me..."

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