[HP]Timepiece Countdown

Something is out of control.

Not to mention self-deception, this description should be - never under control from the beginning to the end.

Voldemort stood there alone, surrounded by the all-too-familiar, shut-in silence of darkness.One of his hands hangs down naturally, while the other is behind his back, his five fingers curled up in a vain manner.

But the seemingly relaxed posture does not reflect the fact——

The invisible flame is still burning inside the body.It secretly licked his reason, as if it was giving him a false and gentle persuasion, but with the dangerous intention of being ready to sweep and devour him at any time.

This was undoubtedly a failure, and it was the kind he hated the most.

Predestined, from prophecies and death curses to accidental horcruxes and soul mates, all his failures have a common name -

Harry Potter.

Voldemort gritted his teeth and repeated in his mind.He can use Occlumency on the boy, he can cover up the scars the boy gave him, he can even leave the boy alone like just now, pretending to be indifferent...

He can do all these easily, but none of them have any effect on changing the status quo.

He and he are soul mates, and the shared blood and soul fragments both over-strengthen the bond between the two.However, he can't get rid of this obvious and huge obstacle: if he intends to kill Harry, it will be a huge threat to his own life; if he intends to control Harry, the mental damage Harry has suffered will also affect On him—

Even if Snape did succeed in getting rid of Dumbledore, the situation would most likely not be any better.

As for the so-called weakened connection...

The Dark Lord sneered to himself, remembering the faint hope lurking in Harry's question.If Dumbledore had his way, he wouldn't have made the proposal; if Voldemort had his way, he wouldn't have made the promise; if Harry had his way...

Oh come on, the boy doesn't know anything!

"The man with the power to conquer the Dark Lord came near...born to a family who defeated the Dark Lord three times...born at the end of the seventh month...the Dark Lord marked him as his rival, but he had the Dark Lord Power unknown to the head...one must die at the hand of the other, for both cannot live, only one survives...the one who has the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born at the end of the seventh month... "

Trelawney's harsh, hoarse voice seemed to still be ringing in Voldemort's ears, giving him a splitting headache and pounding heart.If he had known that his rival had energies he did not understand, if he had known that only one would survive, he would not have acted rashly.He'll slow down, watch his opponents, and give himself more chances to win; most likely, he won't mark anyone at all, and he won't have any serious opponents.

However, there is nothing in the world to know earlier, and there is no medicine for regret.

Voldemort finally raised his hand and rubbed his swollen forehead.His eyes were still staring unblinking into the void in the darkness, as if seeing the lightning scar.

mark……

He's never been one to act rashly, but this time he was too impatient.Caring is chaos, he tasted the bitterness in his mouth when he thought this way, it was his massive attention to his own life that led to everything that was self-destructive.Longevity was still his greatest vision, but he was not as sure as he had been that his attempts at it were all successful and all right—

After all, according to his predictions, no one survived his Avada Kedavra, accidentally became his Horcrux, and accidentally proved to be his soul mate.

It was never in his plan, nor was it within his tolerance.

But speaking of enduring...

The dark fire that had been ignored had been extinguished while he was thinking.Although he knew it well, it was still lurking there, maybe a touch or a word could make its embers rekindle and set fire to the prairie fire, or a flirtatious look would be enough.

And that's not what you want, Voldemort repeated to himself for the last time, not without irony.Plus the other side doesn't want it either, and it's a damn good thing.

**

When Harry woke up, the old-fashioned clock in the house had pointed to eleven.

He half straightened his body and rubbed his eyes several times involuntarily.He didn't let out a long breath until the daylight leaking through the cracks in the curtains verified that he was right, and realized with some annoyance that it really worked—

Last night wasn't the best sleep he'd ever had in his life, but considering that he'd been waking up and tossing and turning almost every night for the past six months, being able to sleep through the sun was already a blessing from Merlin.

Well, not Merlin's gift, but because his soul mate is currently in the same house as him, though probably more reluctantly than he is.

Thinking of Voldemort, Harry puckered his lips and lifted the covers and slipped his feet into the thick velvet slippers.His stomach was so empty that it was almost tingling, but that guy who was used to manipulating others let him sleep until now?

Harry finished washing quickly, changed his clothes, and went downstairs.He didn't bump into anyone before going into the kitchen.When he came out of the kitchen with two china plates full of food, the dining room and living room were still empty.

What's the matter, do you need him to ask and remind him three times before the other party is willing to show up condescendingly?

Harry was sure that as long as the Dark Lord wanted to know, his every move could not escape the other party's eyes.Then, there are two possibilities left: Voldemort doesn't want to eat, or Voldemort is no longer here.

Harry looked up the stairs.Of course he didn't see anything, and he didn't doubt that the other party had the ability to leave without being noticed by him.But he just had a visceral, almost instinctive feeling that Voldemort was still here.

So what the hell is the Dark Lord doing?

Harry put his plate down heavily, staring at the deliciously baked potatoes, sliced ​​ham, chickpeas and Lincolnshire sausages, and freshly sliced ​​rye bread.A faint voice persuaded him to go upstairs and take a look, while another warned him coldly not to mind his own business.He followed the latter's advice without much struggle, sat down at the table, and began to work on his portion.

But Voldemort didn't show up until the plate bottomed out.Harry washed his own dishes and went back to the living room to turn on the TV.He'd tried to pass the time, but he couldn't concentrate, let alone the roar of Muggle laughter wafting into his ears from the window.

Harry was a little fidgety.He got up again, trying to draw the curtains tighter.But before that, he captured something else - the bustling streets crowded with people, people's faces and clothes stained with festive joy; and judging by the couples under the statue, they obviously prefer this area space.

When he recognized Eros, he knew it would become like this...

Harry couldn't help sighing, half helpless, half annoyed.He turned his head again and looked at the living room.The fireplace blazed brightly, and was richly decorated; but the whole house was deserted, and the lonely Christmas tree was like a mockery—

He'd spent the afternoon dressing it up, but did anyone really care, including himself?

Realizing that he couldn't solve an afternoon of idleness the same way again, Harry sighed again, much heavier this time.He shuffled back to his original position, staring at the TV boredly.On the screen is a luxurious Christmas gift that looks like a spire house and is as tall as half a person. You can unwrap a surprise every day throughout December.

Harry couldn't help thinking of Hedwig.In order not to be discovered by the Muggles that there was an invisible house on top of their shop, he left the owl at Hogwarts along with enough water and food.No one can find him in these three days, let alone receive gifts...

Before the TV commercial ended, Harry bounced off the sofa unbearably, grabbed his purse and went out.

With less than 36 hours left until midnight on Christmas Eve, public places of any kind are extremely crowded.Harry was aimless, and simply followed the direction of the flow of people.Electronic stores are packed, and clothing stores are filled with women carrying bags; not to mention toy stores, where parents who buy gifts for their children are eager to clear the shelves.

Harry couldn't help thinking about Dudley, wondering how many presents Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia had prepared for his cousin this year.Dudley should be able to get more than usual as compensation for being attacked by dementors for no reason during the summer vacation.Then he thought of the culprit of this matter—no matter who instigated it, he sincerely cursed that he or she would never receive a good gift that he wanted in his life.Finally he thought of his best friends: Ron was supposed to be finishing the last of the holiday decorations at the Burrow, and Hermione was probably enjoying some skiing with her parents.

That's good, at least they're happier than he is.

Harry thought about it endlessly, until a chill came out of his nose.He didn't need to think or take any definite actions, he knew what was going on—the crowd around him suddenly became commotion, and occasionally there were a few excited voices shouting——

"Snowing!"

Harry stopped and looked around.Almost everyone was staring up at the sky, trying to catch the trail of a snowflake or two.And he looked at their pleasant smiles, intertwined arms, and close bodies, and realized with pain that loneliness made him out of place.He was only a few steps away from the nearest family, but their joy was as far away as a world from him.

"...want a Christmas sweater, sir? It'll bring you luck!"

Harry was jolted out of his own thoughts and realized that he was standing outside a glass display window full of sweaters of all kinds.They're all in the classic Christmas colorway, with Rudolph's red nose twinkling on the chest.The clerk saw him turn around, and recommended more enthusiastically: "If you are willing to come in and take a look, we have more and better ones!"

Fifteen minutes later, Harry came out of the store with a shopping paper bag in his arm.Seeing that the sky was getting darker, he felt that it was time for him to go back.Just before he took a step, he heard a boy not far away coquettish to his parents, asking them to allow him to drink a glass of eggnog at the Christmas Eve dinner table.The two adults said no, but the unconcealable smiles on their faces already explained everything.

In fact, Harry has no particular preference for alcoholic beverages, but he just walked into the supermarket by accident.He took a bottle of cherry brandy and a box of refrigerated whipped cream, but didn't realize he was underage until it was time to check out.

"Hello," the cashier looked away from the wine bottle, and then looked suspiciously at his young face, "Sorry, please show your ID card or driver's license."

Unfortunately, Harry has neither. "I..." He opened his mouth resentfully, just about to say that he would stop drinking.But suddenly a hand appeared from behind him, with a small card between the fingers: "Here."

This voice is both strange and familiar, and there is indeed a picture of him on the card...

Harry turned around in shock, even more shocked when he saw who it was. "Why..." He almost dropped the cream that was still in his hand.

The person who came lowered his head, put the things on the cash register for him quickly with sharp eyes and hands. "You came out in such a hurry that you forgot your card on the table," he blinked at him, with a faint smile on the corner of his mouth, "my dear."

Harry's eyes had never widened before.He suddenly faced a handsome face that was a little more mature than Tom Riddle in the secret room, and he completely lost his ability to speak in an instant.