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Summary
The fiasco that is Harry's life could be summed up in two words — Avada Kedavra. Those words have haunted him for as long as he can remember, endangering him with their very existence. He'd resigned himself to a life without a soulmate, to pain and sorrow... but then the Blacks happened. Or, one Black in particular.
Whose idea was it to let a Black woman invent time travel, anyway?
