idealists are the cruelest monsters of them all.

This was a fascinating fic to read, and it had some stunning lines (favorite was The sweat and the stickiness are real, but the dream is not, and Harry prays to whatever gods listen to underage teenage wizards who aren't chosen for anything but being a headcase that he cast a Silencio before he went to bed.). The fantasies were intriguing, and I loved Harry using his left hand. Sexy and disturbing, all at once!