THIS IS THE WORK BY J. K. ROWLING. NOTHING BELONGS TO ME, EXCLUDING A FEW CHARACTERS.
I DO NOT EARN MONEY WITH THIS.

Papa had exaggerated. He killed him. He knew he was dead because he was floating weightlessly towards a bright light. He could still turn around and go back. But did he even want that? Back? No, he was far too curious for that. He could still go back after looking at everything on the other side. At least that's what the book he'd got for his first birthday said. The book about Horcrux children. The light became brilliant. Danny smiled. How it looked there, in the realm of death?