[HP]Timepiece Countdown

VOL.4

Wangchun

LONGING SPRING

Voldemort was stunned at the depths an unprecedented soulmate connection could go.

The Dark Lord traveled across the oceans to gain his last possible advantage.

It may have succeeded, or it may have failed.

Because Harry finally had the chance to say to Voldemort—

"I got you."

----------------

"Soulmates may unconsciously trigger magical resonance, when their soul connection is strong enough...

"Under certain conditions, one partner can activate the magic of both partners at the same time, further deepening the bond between them. The resonance is not predictable, it happens naturally, and both people will enjoy this amazing intimacy that has never been before. ...

"Not every couple can do this, it probably depends on the two people's knowledge and affection for each other. In fact, there is only one such record in history. Because it is too rare and the duration is short, the researchers We can't regard magic resonance as a universal law. Because of this, the current reference materials are extremely scarce..."

When he recalled these vague and irritating explanations several times, Voldemort was sitting in an underground bar in New York, with a glass of clucking strong traditional North American magic circle on the mottled wooden table in front of him. Wine (Gigglewater).The ceiling of the bar is low and depressing. The owner is a goblin rascal who never leaves his mouth. The guests are either thieves and prostitutes or giant banshees. Swear words and saliva are flying everywhere. Not far away, there are people fighting by their collars...

The scene was dirty and chaotic, but the Dark Lord ignored it.Even, he didn't touch his wine glass at all.Of course, he had no interest in alcohol that made people laugh uncontrollably after drinking it; but the more important reason was that he didn't come here for drinking.

Near the bar, a goblin band is playing jazz against the rough stone walls.Whether it's a wizard or a magical creature, a circle of customers nearby are shaking their heads and ears to the beat, looking intoxicated.

With a quick glance, Voldemort brought his gaze under the dropped hood.

Just last month, a goblin shrunk three wizards with an illegally obtained wand and tried to trample them to death.It was later caught by the British Ministry of Magic, but during the negotiations on the Goblin Bill of Rights, the goblins had already spoken out, demanding that the Ministry of Magic release the offending goblin, nicknamed the Horny-Handed, without charge.Things were predictably not going well, and the bilateral relationship quickly plunged below freezing point.

But it seems that North America has not been affected by this incident, Voldemort thought calmly, which is a good thing for inquiring news.He then tossed aside the beleaguered British Ministry of Magic - as if it would be easy to forget that Fudge's nephew Rufus (Rufus Fudge) had disappeared a long Muggle train just as soon as he joined the Misuse of Magic Office - and He raised his eyes to look at the circle of guests.

There is a figure that is particularly conspicuous inside.Not because of its extraordinary height (it was not more than three feet, actually), but because of its strange appearance-protruding ears, long nose, gray smooth skin, large palms, and good at using bows and arrows.

It was a Pukwudgie.

Voldemort was as uninterested in this magical creature, also unique to North America, as he was in regards to cluckling.The object of his real attention was an ancient and mysterious serpentine tree planted on the grounds guarded by Pukuchi.According to the information he saw, those humanoid things had the ability to suddenly appear or disappear, deform to a certain extent, and set fire.

Not too much of a threat, but no one wants to be disturbed while conducting a covert operation, right?

Besides, his affairs are very important, and there must be no mistakes...

Voldemort believed he could use his fingers to deal with Pukucci, but since he wasn't sure exactly what that ancient Parseltongue counter-curse said, he figured he'd have to spend some time trying each one.That's why he's trying to catch a Pukuchi first: he's had enough of the accidents!

The Pukuchi was oblivious to the danger he was about to face.He was still smirking, and the newly poured wine in his hand had already spilled a lot, and it seemed that he didn't plan to get up for a while.

Voldemort looked away again, slightly impatient.Those slurred words began to reverberate in his head again, so he was even more worried.

"Maybe unknowingly trigger magical resonance"?

"Stimulate the magic power of both parties at the same time, and better deepen the bond between them"?

"It happens naturally and both will enjoy this amazing intimacy that has never been seen before"?

"It probably depends on the two people's understanding and feelings for each other"?

What the hell are those conclusions?Who can give him a detailed and reasonable explanation of the magic principle?Also, can the dull pain be counted as enjoyment?Worst possible, this is yet another situation associated with his greatest failure, the so-called "love is the greatest power"?

Voldemort rolled his eyes under the hood that no one could see.The Arabian Nights, he thought ruefully, and he always seemed to be the unluckier side.But this time he'll definitely win: he'll get the wand of his ancestor Salazar Slytherin, and he won't have to worry about twin wands anymore—

Well, at least there's no need to worry about twin wands anymore.Because apart from this, there are many other problems...

Thinking of this, the Dark Lord's thoughts naturally diverged.

Huh, twin wands... As if their connection wasn't strong enough, as if his dislike for Harry wasn't obvious enough... If this goes on, everyone will know sooner or later...

The occurrence of the White Cliff incident is obviously due to Harry, who knows what "specific conditions" he triggered at that time... It had better be "unconscious" and "natural", otherwise the boy would absolutely have to follow him all over the world, Practice again and again... No, don't, absolutely don't, the current level is already enough...

At the end of the long song, the Pukuchi finally seemed to have had enough.It staggered to its feet, still giggling desperately.Voldemort snapped back to his senses, watching with blindness from the corner of his eye.When Pukuqi was about to walk to the gate, he stood up abruptly and followed carelessly.

Waiting until his figure completely disappeared, the two wizards sitting obliquely behind his original position dared to speak. "That guy looks really scary," one of them said first, pressing his left chest with lingering fear. "Is he a vampire?"

"Possibly," agreed another sympathetically, "he's had nothing to drink, and I'm sure there aren't any blood products on the menu in this bar."

"Maybe it's a gargoyle?" the first person guessed again, feeling his heart still beating fast with tension.

The second disagrees. "A gargoyle has wings," he argued. "You might as well call him a ghoul."

The first person to speak gulped himself down a strong shot of tequila. "You don't get what I mean," he lowered his already low voice, "whether he's a vampire or something, why is it so scary for no reason? I didn't even see his face !"

As soon as these words came out, both of them thought of the same direction and couldn't help being stunned.After looking at each other for a while, the first wizard smiled dryly to smooth things over, his cheeks turned pale because of the disappearance of blood: "No, it's impossible, isn't that man from Britain, why did he appear here..."

**

"Very typical magical resonance."

Harry was sorting out clues on his tiny desk, which was piled with crumbling materials, when these words from Dumbledore popped into mind unexpectedly.Newspaper clippings and secret letters are everywhere, and there is no place to let go.And no matter what kind of paper it is, no matter whether it is printed or handwritten, there is a long string of combined words that makes people look discolored——

The one who cannot even be mentioned by name.

Ever since Voldemort hit the front page of the Daily Prophet, one after another, some people have claimed to have seen him.At first, the Aurors tracked each one down carefully.Yet, ironically and predictably, more and more people who say this turn out to be lying for the sake of attention.

As the one who was being fooled frequently, Harry was quite angry, he really couldn't figure out what those people were thinking.What made him even more angry was that Scrimgeour would not have demanded that all information about the Dark Lord's presence be dismissed as false if this had not been the case.

"This greatly reduces the work efficiency of the Auror office," the Minister of Magic looked like an old lion when he got angry. "Go to hell with that guy! Just treat him as dead!"

This is of course outrageous.Everyone knows that killing Voldemort is extremely difficult, not to mention that the Dark Lord has already engaged in a scene of resurrection from the dead.

Harry doubted that Scrimgeour might have just thought the chances of catching Voldemort were too slim to ask the Aurors to focus on the other Dark wizards.It has been several years since the ten Death Eaters escaped from prison, and the Ministry of Magic has achieved nothing in terms of searching for their traces except for a few more international arrest warrants.If Wormtail hadn't been caught last year, the pressure on Scrimgeour would be even greater now.

Starting with relatively simple places first, this strategy can not be wrong.Harry guessed that if he was the Minister of Magic, he probably couldn't think of a better way.It's just that his identity is different from others, and he has reason to believe that the Dark Lord is the correct entry point to solve all problems.

Based on the above situation, the result was that Harry had to find time out of his heavy training to review the intelligence, letters and various publications that flew in like snowflakes from home and abroad.Fortunately, Auror's probationary period lasted for three years, and during this period, he didn't have many official tasks.Coupled with the support of his immediate superior, Kingsley, as long as he finds suspicious clues, he can investigate further, including on-the-spot investigations.

The point is, there are very few clues worth getting him out of the field...

Harry jerked back, causing the old wooden chair to creak achingly, but he didn't pay attention.

After confirming that it was impossible for Duran to cooperate, Dumbledore contacted many old friends, and finally found a highly respected African chief, and got some advice from the old man who was three or four hundred years old and spoke difficult ancient English. A lot of useful information, including magic resonance.

In the description of the old man, the connection of soul mates is rare and sacred, and the magical resonance between partners is one in a million.This means that the bond between the two partners is as close as possible: at least one partner has been open and honest, and the other partner has not resisted.At this moment, the magic power of the two may be triggered at the same time.The magic performance is different every time, but the same thing is that it always moves in a direction that can further deepen the connection between the two and make them understand each other better.

Harry had stopped wasting time doubting the strength of his connection—Merlin knew if a connection like his and Voldemort's could have been stronger—but he doubted Voldemort's resistance was because the Dark Lord couldn't foresee it. what happens next. "What if..." he tried to ask, "What if one of them doesn't want it?"

In response, the old man smiled meaningfully.He must have seen the faint hope Harry harbored, but gave a seemingly completely irrelevant answer—

"Use your heart."

The memories stopped abruptly here, because a strong wind suddenly blew in from outside the window, and the paper materials in the Auror's office were blown all over the room.Harry stood up helplessly, took out his wand to clean up the mess, and at the same time couldn't help but slander the magical maintenance department responsible for determining the daily weather.

The wages have been raised, and they can't come to be gentle and sunny every day...

Uh?

Harry's eyes were suddenly caught by a copy of "New York Ghost" precariously covered by the chandelier.The bottom corner of the newspaper was exactly level with the tip of his nose, and there was a small piece of tofu article in a purely joking tone that someone thought they saw a suspected Voldemort-like man in black at the Blind Pig the other day.

The loose and thin clothes kept covering the head with the hood, and the black mask covered it even more tightly, making people involuntarily shy away...

Harry snatched the paper down and read it carefully three times from cover to cover.What the reporter thought was an exaggerated description seemed to him quite accurate; but if that was really Voldemort, what was he doing in America?