[HP]Timepiece Countdown

[HP] Chronograph/Countdown

Author: Shizein Lane

Copywriting

Myname is Harry Potter.

Hello, Harry Potter.

AVADAKEDAVRA!

KILL ME IF YOU CAN!

Chapter 1

Incredibly, the change happened right under the noses of both of them.

It was happening right under the noses of the two of them, and a horde of Death Eaters, to be precise.

But Harry doubted that the masked villains hadn't been able to see clearly.Because when Voldemort put his cool, pale fingertips on his cheeks, they were so close that Voldemort chuckled in Harry's ear, and Harry could have given Voldemort a headbutt back if he hadn't been shot from the neck. If the ankles are firmly tied to the tombstone.

"you……"

The creepy smile that had been wryly wry from Voldemort's face disappeared.It was replaced by surprise, but in a moment it condensed into an anger heavier than the night they were in.

In terms of shock, Harry thought he was no less than the other party.He wanted to say something, but he had a terrible headache since the other person showed up, and he really didn't know what to say—

"Hello, Dark Lord, I'm Harry Potter, should we be soulmates?"

How stupid.

Stupider than he had just seen the words "I am Harry Potter" briefly appear on Voldemort's finger.

Now, of course, it's gone.Harry could have sworn he could still see Voldemort's sharp lips moving silently through the tears in his pain-induced eyes, before the handwriting disappeared.

Great, none of them want to be discovered by a third person, even if soul mates are so rare that they are crazily admired by the world.

Now Harry didn't just have a headache.The heart was so crazy that it seemed to jump out of the throat, and the chest was also on fire, as if a piece of hot and red iron was pasted on it.This is different from the legend... He was amazed that he could still think about this calmly in such a dangerous situation.Didn't it mean that when meeting a soul mate for the first time, both parties will have a golden light flashing in front of their eyes, and a new feeling for their eyes and ears?

Maybe it was the wrong choice, Harry tried to analyze rationally again.The Dark Lord isn't associated with any kind of positive emotion, is it?

Finally, Harry finally noticed something strange about it.It’s true that the first words soul mates say to each other are etched on a piece of each other’s skin; the first thing he said—or wrote—to Voldemort’s diary was “I am Harry Potter.” Special", that's true; but the first words Voldemort said to him should have been the Killing Curse...

Harry was pretty sure the words on his mind were "Hello, Harry Potter." It had appeared during the summer break of his second year, and he had shown it to Ron and Hermione as soon as school started.There's nothing special about it, other than the envy of two friends who yell at Harry and force Harry to make the decision to shake hands with everyone who greets him that way.

The burning pain in his chest intensified.

The hidden hints in it made it hard for Harry to breathe.If he remembered correctly, the first words the diary said to him were indeed "Hello, Harry Potter." It's not impossible if Voldemort's resurrection caused the handwriting to change...

No, it must be impossible!

Harry stopped himself from thinking any further, almost in horror.He couldn't connect with the Dark Lord...he couldn't connect with the enemy who killed his parents...

The enemy finally spoke, his tone was light but extremely gloomy: "Who did you introduce yourself to?"

Harry had to turn his attention back to that pale, horrible face.It was still bloodless, but its scarlet eyes were full of anger, as if it had just been betrayed.

Betrayed...

Suffering from multiple pains at the same time, Harry suddenly wanted to laugh.This was the first reaction of the Dark Lord when he found out that he had a soul mate?It should be seen by those who have been madly chasing a mark all their lives.

Only then did Harry understand Voldemort's question.He hadn't spoken a single word to Voldemort tonight; the mark on Voldemort's finger...

Harry's eyes widened suddenly, and he realized the omissions in his previous thinking.Why does what he writes in his diary count?The diary is Voldemort?But the diary has been completely destroyed?And Voldemort didn't know anything about it?Is he acting?Could it be that the conspiracy tonight is not limited to the rigged Tri-Power Cup?What's the point of the Dark Lord pretending they're soul mates?

These questions were pressing on Harry's nerves and giving him a splitting headache.But even in the dark night, he could still feel Voldemort's needle-like gaze resting on his forehead for a long time, and then on his chest.Suddenly, the invisible pain subsided a little abnormally, and a mixture of anger and doubt rose up...

No, that's not his emotion.

Voldemort found out.

Harry's heart sank suddenly.Rumors of empathy between soul mates turn out to be true.In other words, the other party will notice his pain, and then discover his secret...

No!

Harry wanted to yell, and he did.But what was strange was that he could feel his lips closing and his vocal cords vibrating, but no sound came out of his mouth.

It could only be that Voldemort had done something, Harry stared at him in horror.Then, he noticed that, at some point, the surroundings became extremely quiet—he could still hear the sound of the night wind blowing through the woods, but Voldemort's long speech stopped abruptly, and the Death Eaters were looking at the two of them in amazement .

Apparently, after not being able to see the writing on Voldemort's fingers, those people hadn't heard what Voldemort was asking him.

It was most likely not a conspiracy, and Harry was about to vomit the truth.

It was difficult to say whether Voldemort had sensed Harry's reaction, as there was no expression on his face.The Dark Lord examined Harry with harsh, almost perverted eyes, but he didn't press Harry to give an answer.Or, he didn't intend to study why he suddenly had an extra soul mate under the watchful eyes of everyone, and this soul mate was still his sworn enemy.

Soul mates were an incredibly private, intimate relationship, and Harry could understand some people's reluctance to make it public.But that still didn't stop his nauseated, dizzy reaction, or his desire to yell at Voldemort—

I'd rather duel with you than this connection!Don't you want to kill me?Come on, I'd rather die!

Voldemort's scarlet eyes flashed for a moment, seeming to be amused, but also ironic.Harry tried to widen his eyes but couldn't see clearly, because the next moment he lost consciousness.

**

When he opened his eyes again, Harry found that he had changed places.The black room was empty save for a poor white candle that was dying out.Of course there is also him: He seems to be sitting on a chair, but his hands are hung high, his neck, waist, thighs, and ankles are all tied with thick ropes, and his upper body is still chilling——

As soon as Harry lowered his head, the chill blew into his heart.

The neat row of small silver characters in his memory was gone, replaced by a row of scarlet and glaring words that were almost baring teeth and claws——

"Avada Kedavra!"

Unlike the "Hello, Harry Potter" that almost everyone said to him, only one person has cast a death curse on him so far in this life.

Harry's mind went blank for a moment.This is not true!This is absolutely not true!Voldemort must have done something during the time he passed out!

He struggled vigorously, and the cold iron chain rattled.But in the next moment, it tightened violently, almost pulling Harry, including the chair, into the air.Those thick ropes also crawled over his skin eagerly, entangled inch by inch, suffocating him.The more he struggled, the more excited they became, like a long-starved jackal smelling blood, devouring his life greedily.

"I thought nobody was stupid enough to strangle themselves."

Just when Harry was on the verge of a collapse of consciousness, these words, which seemed to be amused, reached his ears.Harry subconsciously wanted to refute, but when he opened his mouth, he could only let out a quick gasp, accompanied by bursts of blackness in front of his eyes.

Voldemort might indeed have been amused, he might have even appreciated it for a moment.Because I don't know how long it took before Harry felt his feet touch the ground again.The thick rope around his neck was loosened, fresh air poured into his chest cavity, and he couldn't help coughing violently.

When Harry was able to control himself to look up, he realized that Voldemort had sat down in front of him at leisure.He stared suspiciously at the armchair that appeared out of nowhere under the opponent, and immediately became vigilant.

"Still not talking?" Voldemort seemed to be holding back his laughter, but the content and tone of his words were completely opposite. "Maybe you want to try how many ways Voldemort has to make people speak?"

Harry immediately glared at Voldemort.His throat was dry and painful, but that by no means meant he was showing weakness. "Kill me if you have the ability!"

At this lack of cooperation, Voldemort just raised his eyebrows.He was noticeably less talkative, and looked less excited than he had been when he had just been resurrected - perhaps Harry's unexpected soul mate had dampened his excitement - in other words, more difficult to deal with. "Perfect." He raised his right index finger and looked at it. He couldn't say that there was no sarcasm. "Your real first sentence is this."

Chapter 2

When Avada Kedavra is able to kill me...

Harry thought sarcastically that he had every reason to believe that they were the only soul mates in the world, the ones who were completely out of the box.But he said nothing; if he was doomed to die today - as Cedric was - he would never give in, nor would Voldemort get a sliver of useful information out of him.

Voldemort didn't seem surprised by Harry's silence. "Obviously none of us want this trouble." He pretended to nod towards Harry, his expression returning to his previous grimness, "but the problem is that there is no way to separate a pair of soul mates yet."

Hearing the word soul mate come out of the Dark Lord's mouth, Harry couldn't help shivering.As if it was his deepest nightmare, and it became reality when Voldemort said it. "Why not?" He asked almost sharply, "Death is fine, and it's in your arms, isn't it?"

Death can indeed tear a soulmate apart.But because of the connection, the one who survives will suffer no less than the one who died, and will do so for the rest of his life.

Harry could well imagine that Voldemort certainly didn't intend to endure that kind of torture.But considering that the other party wanted to kill him when he was a baby, maybe the Dark Lord might reluctantly make a choice?After all, they are only a preliminary connection now; if Voldemort makes a move now, it will be less painful and more beneficial to him later?

Hearing this, those scarlet eyes narrowed, making the whole snake face become unfathomable.But when he spoke again, Voldemort did not dwell on the question. "Have you seen the diary?"

Of course Harry had.Not only saw it, but ruined it.But he wasn't sure what Voldemort meant: was the Dark Lord knowingly asking, or did he really not know?The room had no windows, and he didn't know how long he'd been unconscious; if it had been long enough, it might have been long enough for the Dark Lord to ask Mr. Malfoy where his diary was...

In the end, Harry chose a relatively safe way: "Aren't you clear about your stuff?"

As soon as he finished speaking, a surge of anger flashed through Harry's mind; his temples throbbed, but only briefly.Harry didn't know why his scar hurt when he saw Voldemort, but the sudden emotion could only be Voldemort's.

And that means...

Harry's eyes widened subconsciously, astonished. "...You really didn't know before?!"

Voldemort's hypocritical mask cracked, revealing a look of affront.He neither admitted nor denied it.But he was obviously stimulated a lot: the evidence is the iron chain that started rattling again, and the thick rope that was coiled and tightened around Harry's neck like a snake——

In a short time, that suffocating feeling overwhelmed Harry again.He threw his head back, trying to get rid of the shackles, but his arms were hanging in the air, unable to exert force; kicking his legs was completely useless, because he couldn't stretch the slightest bit at all, and they even started to twitch unconsciously.

The Dark Lord finally couldn't help revealing his true nature, Harry struggled in his remaining consciousness, feeling that he was about to be overwhelmed by the wave of death.There is no Avada Kedavra, and he doesn't look like the Dark Lord at all... But it doesn't matter, it's better to be free than to continue to suffer...

Harry couldn't believe it until he was breathing again that he wasn't dead again. "What the hell are you doing?" he couldn't help yelling at Voldemort during the short intervals between coughing and coughing. "I always knew you wanted to kill me, but can you hurry up? Or do you think it's better to torture me now?" Interesting, huh?"

However, contrary to Harry's expectations, Voldemort's face showed no sign of amusement, not even pleasure - the Dark Lord was staring at him, his nostrils flaring, his face livid.

Harry's coughing slowly stopped.On the one hand, he felt that the bruise on his neck must be deep enough to last for several days, and on the other hand, he couldn't help feeling weird.It should be true that he and Voldemort were soul mates; but was that reason enough for Voldemort to give up his intention to kill him?Of course, the average person would certainly not kill a soul mate; however, for the Dark Lord, connecting with others is probably just a burden, isn't it?

"What the hell are you trying to do to me?" Harry asked hoarsely.The confusion temporarily overshadowed the physical pain, and he wanted to know what happened now.

Voldemort, obviously, didn't intend to answer Harry's questions.He was watching Harry very carefully, his scarlet eyes unblinking; as if he could only see Harry, and Harry was the only, greatest, unexplained danger.

The hairs on the back of Harry's neck stood on end under such gaze.He didn't allow himself to show a weak posture, so he forced himself to look directly at those dark and dangerous vertical pupils.It was nothing at first; but after a while, he realized that he had made a big mistake——

The Dark Lord's eyes were obviously possessed of some kind of powerful magic.It easily penetrated Harry's skull, burrowed into his brain, hissed and probed everywhere like a poisonous snake's letter—

"Professor Dumbledore," he said hastily, "may I please return this diary to Mr Malfoy?"

"Voldemort transferred a part of himself into me?" Harry was dumbfounded...

He grabbed the basilisk fang on the ground beside him and inserted it straight into the center of the diary...

"My name is Harry Potter." This line of words flashed on the paper, and was also sucked in...

"……no, do not want!"

When Harry yelled, he realized he was screaming and sweating.Judging from the precarious chair, he struggled violently again; but this time he wasn't chained up, nor was he bound by a thick rope... Voldemort did it on purpose!He just wants those things in his head!

Breathing heavily, Harry glared at the still motionless Dark Lord.This only lasted less than half a second, because after he realized it, he turned his face away suddenly, so as not to meet those eyes.But this short time was enough for him to see Voldemort's increasingly ruthless expression, and the scar began to rage and burn again——

The Dark Lord is in a new round of extreme anger, but the previous doubts have disappeared... He has been injured, if not fatal, it is unforgivable... Whoever betrayed him, that person must pay a terrible price... His fatal mistake is not here, but in...

Harry struggled with a pounding headache to remember the bits and pieces of information.But suddenly, they all disappeared, along with the pain.He subconsciously turned back to the original direction, only to find himself shrouded in shadow——

Before he knew it, Voldemort had already stood in front of him without a sound.That height difference, suitable for contempt, made Harry uncomfortable: he tried to dodge backwards, but only had the chair wobble precariously with its back legs in midair. "Get away from me!" He gritted his teeth angrily.

In the faint backlight, Voldemort seemed to sneer. "I don't think you've figured it out yet," he whispered, his cold fingers suddenly pressing on Harry's scar, "Harry, you're mine."

Harry jerked back.But under the full body restraint, the resistance he can make is quite limited.Touched by Voldemort, he was prepared for his scar to explode in pain; but he was wrong, and this time it didn't.Except for that cold touch, he hardly noticed anything else. "What did you do?" he demanded loudly.

Voldemort still didn't answer.He traced his fingertips on Harry's forehead, accurately following the lines of the lightning scar; it seemed that he was only tracing the shape, and it seemed that he was probing the secrets underneath.It felt like a poisonous snake crawling slowly on his skin, which was cold and smooth, but it might show its fangs at any time and give him a fatal stab.

Harry shivered involuntarily.He gritted his teeth, trying to resist what seemed like a physical reaction of weakness; he almost succeeded, too, if the Dark Lord hadn't moved his hand back to his chest. "Let go of me!" He yelled, tasted blood unexpectedly from his mouth.

This only earned Voldemort a contemptuous smile.He leaned over slightly, and pressed the row of handwriting more focused and harder.Different from the small silver characters before, the new letters are larger, more colorful, and the corners are sharper. When the fingernails are scratched, there will be bursts of trembling...

Maybe it's the opposite of everything, and Harry started to feel hot.It was an eerie heat that made his limbs lose strength and his mind clouded.This made him feel dangerous instinctively and tried to get rid of it.

But at this critical juncture, the surroundings suddenly became dark.Startled, Harry realized then that the candle must have burned out.But the movement in front of him didn't stop, Voldemort seemed to be able to see things accurately in the dark; what made him even more frightened was that the red eyes of the other party were still shining at this time, which could make Aunt Petunia scream Screaming horror movies are probably no more than that.

The only good news was that those red eyes were not looking at him.To be precise, they were staring intently at the handwriting on his chest, to guide his fingers to finish them.

The slight sting mixed with an unspeakable undercurrent came back, and Harry gasped. "No," he tried to sound rude enough, "hell, can you stop?"

Harry didn't expect this kind of harshness to work, he just wanted to maintain his momentum.However, Voldemort actually withdrew his hand and began to look down upon him again.The barely-lit room was filled with airless silence and what not, until the Dark Lord walked away unexpectedly.

Chapter 3

Voldemort had just walked out of the room when a shadow in the dark porch next door took a step from the base of the wall. "Master." Someone said respectfully, it was a male voice.His whole body was covered in a pitch-black hooded robe, with only a little bit of pale fingertips exposed.

"There are some things that the Dark Lord needs to do in person." Voldemort ordered without emotion. "You must stay here until the next morning. People inside cannot come out, and people outside cannot enter."

Hearing this, the man was greatly taken aback. "Master?" He hesitated, as if he was unsure whether to ask, "Before you wanted to kill the boy with your own hands, I brought him for you; but now you..."

"Plans have changed," Voldemort replied grimly, with no desire to explain why.

The man keenly heard what his master meant. "Since the boy is still alive," he changed direction, "Dumbledore will probably do everything in his power to find him."

The words finally made Voldemort look at him. "It's not a possibility," the Dark Lord corrected, and then glanced at the closed door behind him, with a mocking arc on his lips, his tone was cold, "It's inevitable."

"Then..." The man obviously didn't think this was good news.After thinking about it again and again, he still expressed his worries: "I answered your call and came here from school. Dumbledore must be able to guess from my leaving without saying goodbye, that I did it in the Triwizard Cup. If he got here by following the traces I might have left... I mean, I was careful, but I was in too much of a hurry to erase everything..."

"No, he won't." Voldemort interrupted before the man finished speaking, very determined. "There's a boy dead, and he's got to deal with that. And, the best he can do is find the old house. Finally," the Dark Lord sneered, "no matter how hard Dumbledore tries, the boy inside is dead." It's mine."

The words were vague, and the man was quite puzzled.He opened his mouth, eventually swallowing more and more questions. "I see, Master."

Voldemort nodded briefly, and the man retreated knowingly to the door and stood there.Afterwards, the Dark Lord raised his legs and wanted to leave, but suddenly remembered the completely dead diary he saw in Harry's head, his expression twisted slightly. "What's going on here," he said without looking back, "can't be told to anyone else."

"Anyone else" clearly refers to other Death Eaters.Under the cover of the wide hood, the man blushed with excitement at the special meaning. "I swear to the Dark Mark," he became emotional all of a sudden, "you can leave it to me, master!"

After being assured by the loyal little Crouch, Voldemort went out.There was cold and gray water vapor in the wetland dense forest, but he raised his hand gently as if he didn't see it.The wide black robe sleeves slid down to the elbows, revealing the pale and thin arms with unusually obvious muscle lines.He stared at it without blinking, his lips parted silently—

Without the cover of the magic spell, the words "kill me if you can" spread from the index finger to the back of the hand, which is simply the boy's blatant mockery at him.What is more glaring than it is the wrist: bruises slowly appear from the depths of the skin, purple red almost black, hideous.

Voldemort carefully looked back and forth at the marks, and then touched his neck - no need to look to know that the marks on it would only be more serious - brows frowned bit by bit.

He found it when he first entered the room.He knew how Harry felt suffocated, knew how many bruises had been wrung out of Harry's body - because he literally felt it.It would be too serious to say that this is the empathy brought by soul mates.Besides, he had used Occlumency; it effectively blocked him from feeling his partner's pain, but it didn't stop him from showing the same signs...

This is not normal.

Very abnormal.

He'd been ecstatic that he was an unmarked person; even that didn't stop him from realizing that their connection was far deeper than a normal soulmate should have.

Also, Harry is a Parseltongue, and Dumbledore says that's because he dropped a part on Harry.

Dumbledore didn't know what he did, Dumbledore was guessing; he didn't want to trust Dumbledore's judgment, but he had just verified it.

Voldemort closed his eyes forcefully, and the corners of his clenched mouth almost twitched at the new fact he had just discovered——

There was no way he could kill Harry.

Because Harry has a piece of his soul in him.

Voldemort opened his eyes again, wildly.There must be something seriously wrong here... that's impossible, that's not what the prophecy said...

Just as the fact that the boy had writing on him before it appeared on him made him realize immediately that the boy had seen at least one of his Horcruxes, so Voldemort immediately realized what exactly he had left on the boy.Based on this premise, it makes perfect sense that he has almost the same level of injury marks as the boy——

He hadn't even noticed before that Harry was his last Horcrux.Unsuccessful, yet the boy is also his god damn soul mate.If there was a third point that strengthened that bond, it was undoubtedly the boy's blood, left with the woman's protective blood.

Voldemort had a terrible premonition, and he encountered unprecedented complications.It was probably wishful thinking to solve it in a short time, but there was at least one thing he could do first: move the remaining Horcruxes and find them a new, safe hiding place before Dumbledore.

The other four Horcruxes are the most solid guarantees he has on the road to immortality...

Thinking of this, Voldemort forced himself to calm down, and then took out the yew wand.After making sure that every inch of land around him did not leave any traces that could be traced, he turned into an ink-like black wind and disappeared from the spot in the blink of an eye.

**

For Harry, life in the dark room was difficult.Leaving aside the ropes and chains; the room had no windows, only one door, and no one had entered since Voldemort left.Occasionally there was slight movement outside, he guessed it might be the guards; but no matter how much he yelled and tried to break free from the restraints, he couldn't see even a ray of light——

He didn't expect Voldemort to let him go easily, or to remember who to call for his meals, but the Dark Lord didn't even leave a candle behind!

At first, Harry was able to struggle as hard as he could; however, he soon realized that doing so would be useless, other than to expend even more of what little energy he had left.No wand, no food, no coat, and the air around him was still icy cold and damp; he had no intention of showing weakness to Voldemort, but it was certainly not his fault that he fell into fitful comas from extreme hunger and cold. .

Being in the dark and lacking the perception of time, Harry once thought that Voldemort was going to leave him in the dark room to fend for himself.In a trance, it seemed that someone opened the door.His squinted eyes were weeping for the sudden light, and he turned his head instinctively; but soon, he was turned back with his chin held, and two indistinguishable scarlet spots appeared in the blurred and shaking vision.

"F (V)..." Harry just wanted to refuse the other's touch, but as soon as the words came out of his mouth, he found that his throat was so thirsty and hoarse that he couldn't make a decent syllable, let alone break free from that cold but powerful hand. "Hmm..." He still shook his head unwillingly.

Voldemort clicked his tongue, sounding as though he thought Harry's insistence was completely pointless.But Harry wasn't so sure; his whole impression of what happened next was that he had finally been lifted from his half-suspended state.

After what seemed like a long time, and what seemed like only an instant, Harry finally began to regain his sense of the world around him—he was lying on his back, covered with some kind of soft fabric, and felt similarly underneath.Kind of like the four-poster bed in his school, to be honest; but it couldn't be, could it?The memory of being tortured by Voldemort is so vivid that it cannot be justified by nightmares alone...

"Wake up and eat."

Harry jumped to his feet at the cold hiss.Then he found out that he was really on the same bed.Suddenly there was such a thing in the room, as if it was specially prepared for him... But after seeing that the snake-faced man was not far away, he immediately killed his thoughts. "What?" he asked, subconsciously adopting a defensive posture.

Voldemort stared at Harry as though he'd seen a circus monkey. "If you want to starve yourself to death, I don't mind."

It was only then that Harry realized that there was indeed a buttoned dinner plate near the head of the bed. The shiny sterling silver texture was incompatible with the environment.The aroma of food penetrated into his nostrils, and his stomach immediately let out a loud growl.He was so embarrassed that he wanted to bury himself in the ground, but he still asked stubbornly: "Is there poison in it?"

"Trust me, that's a waste of time." Voldemort gave him a smirk of increasing impatience. "Just to remind you again, you don't want me to do it myself."

Imagine being forced to eat by Voldemort, Harry shivered all over.Although he didn't want to admit it, Voldemort had a point: even if he tried to escape, he had to have a full stomach first.

Thinking of this, Harry subconsciously glanced at him.His clothes were back, and he felt a lot better not seeing the blood-red writing on his chest; as for the rest...

Harry couldn't help but look at Voldemort again.The Dark Lord was still staring at him, seemingly interested in what he would choose next; his limbs ached and his throat was burning.If he is destined to be unable to escape, then he would rather choose the former between death in battle and starvation...

"What the hell are you trying to do?" he asked finally, with little hope.

Surprisingly, Voldemort actually thought about it for a while, or pretended to think about it for a while, Harry wasn't sure.The feeling of the Dark Lord closing his eyes majestically was weird, as if the other party thought he didn't exist at all.For a moment, he couldn't help thinking about the chances of a successful sneak attack now; but in the next moment, those cold red eyes looked straight at him.

Chapter 4

Has it been discovered?

With a start, Harry realized that he had just forgotten about the soulmate connection.No, if Voldemort read his mind, why didn't he read the Dark Lord?And his scar was also motionless...

Before Harry couldn't help touching his forehead, Voldemort finally said, "Eat." Meeting Harry's bewildered eyes, he added unemotionally, "I don't want to feel how hungry you are all the time."

Harry felt awkward again for a moment.It was the first time the Dark Lord had mentioned their connection positively, though it was so obvious that neither of them could deny it (even if neither of them wanted it).

"I..." His head was full of question marks, but after meeting those inhuman red eyes, they were forced to swallow them back.It's good to have something to eat, he quietly comforted himself, you can't expect too much from Voldemort...

Harry had expected the meals to be perfunctory, but to his surprise they tasted delicious.He wasn't sure if it was because it was good on its own or because he was too hungry, but he was sure he'd be more comfortable eating it without a Dark Lord watching.

And if filling his stomach was a necessary prerequisite for the conversation to begin, Voldemort was clearly in no hurry.He stares at Harry for a moment, like there's something about Harry that draws him to do so; and the stern look on his face is more like Harry is some kind of substandard item.

Under such critical gazes, Harry always had a feeling that he had nothing to hide.It didn't feel so good that he just gulped down some food and stopped. "What the hell are you looking at?" He asked suspiciously, ready to get no answer.

Voldemort did not answer.His eyes fell on the remaining food, and with a flick of his hand, they all disappeared.Harry almost uttered the words "I'm not full yet", but fortunately he realized in time that the Dark Lord is not someone who can be easily bargained for.

Then, the person who was not allowed to haggle casually finally spoke, with a cold and hard voice. "We need to talk."

If he wasn't drinking water, Harry could really spit it out in one gulp.Voldemort?talk?he?Can these words fit in a sentence?But honestly, he had no choice - his wand was still missing, and he knew Voldemort was unlikely to be generous enough to give it back.Plus, he was really full of questions.Not that he fully believed what Voldemort said, but he could get some information anyway, right?

"What do you want to talk about?" Harry asked cautiously after thinking about it, and he couldn't say he was off guard.

Voldemort must have noticed this, for the curve of his sharp lips was fleeting. "If you're really worried," he said