Sitting on the floor, on the dock ... her feet dangling outside, watching the water, heedless of the spray coming to question him, curious to see who is doing the sea to look indifferent. Ankles crossed, arms wrapped around the chest, leaning against a pillar, watching the gray waves, empty of thoughts, for once ... draws in cool air from the sea, only vaguely remembering a distant time, lost in previous lives, as a teenager when he went to sea in the summer in Scotland, and found himself alone, as usual, in the same position, in a similar place. Across the ocean that lies ahead. It has the curious feeling of being able to look through the barrier of time, over the past years between him and the little boy full of pain and hate. He looks, and would be able to speak. He would like to say how useless all those looking for revenge, power ... than it has brought nothing but more pain, for himself and for all those who crossed his path, from then on. Would you be able to say to the ghost of fourteen, still unaware and innocent of all the pain I feel and that it would cause in a few years. But time is a bad messenger, send messages in one direction, and the message clear, comes only from the past and not coming back.
is shaken from his thoughts than usual, early Homer goes in search of fish to pull up the nets, not far from him, and greets him.
"Tom!" He shouts. This comes back to grab it, the voice of that jolly old man, was guilty only of being himself and not one thousand other people, a thousand other faces, to hide the only one who did not want to see one's own. The magician turns around to greet him, just outlined the shadow of a smile on his face, back and watching the sea. The temptation ... no, not the desire to be able to leave the oblivion of the waves caressing the mind, the weary soul of torment, shattered by the effort of having to attend every day carrying an intolerable burden, but it is nothing but a vain hope. He wants to lay his burden once and for all, but knows that could never do it voluntarily. Even when it weighs so much, like that day ...
is the anniversary of the Battle of Hogwarts. The day that Harry Potter has defeated finally, killing him into the INPUT of the school of magic and witchcraft in England. Remember what happened only occasionally, and sometimes suspected of having reconstructed their memories on the basis of reports that it has read, written by the victors. Many things do not remember at all. But remember the last green flash. Starting from his own wand and bounced back to hit him, in a parody of accidental suicide. One thing is sought for years: if you really did win .. who would? If he had finally gained power, what else could he do?
The question is not answered, even more so now that all desire for power over others will be permanently deleted from his mind. Even thinking to gather followers and the army seems pointless now .. Yet once a glimmer of megalomania drove him to think of taking power in all the great magic of community Europe, even if it can not be said that he'd finally done with all that power.
only now realized that the real magic is not to control others, but controlled himself. And it is much more difficult, surprisingly.
Back to this again, attracted by the cries of Homer. The network is pulling and the usual entangled in dry, they discover why. A wreck of wood, carried by the tides, was captured by the network. Only a piece of wood, but someone has had something. The two read and laugh. But only the words Tom seems like a strange answer to his questions. The hand, roughly, has recorded two words.
Destino cruel.
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