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Summary
Voldemort won the war and Harry Potter has been running for the past four years, biding his time for the right time to die.
Each presumed horcrux that is found is but an ordinary object, not housing a shred of the dark Lord's soul.
And what is it with this strange pungent smell of rot that seems to follow Harry?
When Harry finally welcomes death, and stumbles into the precipice of the end of his organic life, someone - or rather something - envelops him in warmth and sweeps him away in a strange house where Aurora Borealis of the color of his eyes dance above its roof. He is held captive by a man adressed as the master of the abode, and Harry has yet to meet him before he appoints another rendez-vous with death, that reprimands him for his tardiness.This is a love story, in Plato's world of forms.