[ EU ] If George R. R. Martin wrote Harry Potter

The whispers, always the whispers of the mad God. 
 
 Dumbeldor had warned him. Had told him not to reach, but he had not listened. What harm could knowledge do? 
 
 They should have told him that just knowing would open the gate, now Voldemort lay dead along with all magic. 
 
 The whispers, always the whispers of the mad God. 
 
 Harry turned to face the outside. They called him names now. Always named. Always titled. 
 
 The whispers, always the whispers of the mad God. 
 
 Now though, he believed in names. 
 
 They called him Old Crow now. Ha. The Demon of Magic. Lord of Choas. Always titled. Always named. But their was one name he would never speaks, one word that had cost him more than they could ever know. They had wanted a saviour. 
 
 The whispers, always the whispers of the mad God. 
 
 He asked to be named. No. Stick face wo n't save. HUMANITIES SHELLS IS NOT WITHOUT REASON. 
 
 Harry's tower stood alone on unholy ground. A world without magic. He felt sorry. Sorry. Only the crows now dare make their home. 
 
 Gods, Gods be damned. All of them. He briefly considered wiping himself from existence but. 
 
 The whispers, always the whispers of the mad God.
