I DON’T CARE HOW MANY TIMES I’VE REBLOGGED THIS IT WILL NEVER END
what if your phobias are based off how you died in a past life
Let’s be honest everyone would rather watch a Black Widow movie than antman
But they were not living, thought Harry: They were gone. The empty words could not disguise the fact that his parents’ moldering remains lay beneath snow and stone, indifferent, unknowing. And tears came before he could stop them, boiling hot then instantly freezing on his face, and what was the point in wiping them off or pretending? He let them fall, his lips pressed hard together, looking down at the thick snow hiding from his eyes the place where the last of Lily and James lay, bones now, surely, or dust, not knowing or caring that their living son stood so near, his heart still beating, alive because of their sacriﬁce and close to wishing, at this moment, that he was sleeping under the snow with them.