"All right, everyone, sit down and eat!" Someone—probably too hungry to wait any longer—urged them.
Everyone sat down and began enjoying the feast. Yet somehow, all the food on the table gradually drifted toward Kayson without anyone noticing.
He accepted it all without complaint. Just a few hours ago, his internal organs had nearly been shaken into jelly. Eating a little more now... nothing wrong with that. Nothing wrong at all.
Elsewhere, after learning from Snape that Kayson had broken through the time barrier he had personally set and returned to the world, Voldemort instinctively wanted to light a Sirmoko. Between him and Kayson, who exactly had made Horcruxes? Why was that guy's health bar so damn thick?
Wasn't he supposed to die?
Was this right?
But what could he say? He was just a weak, pitiful, helpless Dark Lord. What standing did he have? All he could do was swallow his broken teeth along with his blood, lie miserably in bed, and struggle to keep his tears from soaking the pillow.
Then the next day, he would charge out with his Death Eater companions and randomly pick a Muggle household for a nice round of S&M.
The kind where the S tortured the M half to death.
Early the next morning, Dumbledore slowly pushed open Kayson's door, pulled out his wand, and cast a Cooling Charm at the soundly sleeping Kayson.
Kayson jolted awake and sat up, staring blankly at Dumbledore in front of him. He slowly said, "What the hell is wrong with you?"
"I need you to accompany me somewhere, Kayson. I didn't sleep at all last night. I thought about many, many things... do you want to know what?" Dumbledore said as he pulled over a chair and sat down.
"What is it... just say