HP Dark Hero

Waking up from a long sleep, Harry curled up lazily under the blanket, stretched comfortably, but inadvertently pulled the wound on the side of his waist, the pain made his whole body stiff, and he gasped repeatedly.

Warm palms suddenly penetrated into the hem of his clothes and covered the wound. With the familiar voice chanting a spell, a warm feeling soothed the painful wound, and Harry couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief.

In a daze, he stretched out his hand to touch the side, trying to find the glasses that were supposed to be by the bedside, but he only touched some kind of warm and elastic object.There were a few chuckles in his ears, and the familiar thin metal frame was stuffed into Harry's hands. He put on his glasses and opened his eyes wearily, and it was Blaise Zabini that caught his eye.

The other party was sitting and lying beside Harry on a soft pillow, holding the book in one hand and reading, with distinct knuckles on the spine of the book. Harry noticed that the book read "General White Magic: Elementary Healing"; while the other One hand was still resting lightly on the wound on Harry's side.

The Slytherin was wearing a nightgown loosely, showing off his lean and seductive muscular lines indifferently. The beige nightgown half-covered his bronzed chest and abdomen like whipped cream, which was kind of dessert. delicious illusion.

Blaise was concentrating on flipping through the spell book, the soft light at his side reflected the simple lines of his chin and Adam's apple, his earnest side face was sexy and charming, as if every cell exuded the seductive smell of strong hormones.I'm afraid no matter how reserved a witch is, she can't help but give him a look.

Noticing Harry's blank stare, Blaise turned his head, and Harry realized that it was Harry himself who had messed up Blaise's clothes—his hand was still inside the other's nightgown, although the other party didn't care.

"Honey, what's the matter?" Blaise asked suspiciously, brushing Harry's short, tangled black hair.

Looking at Blaise, Harry heard a strange rustling in his heart.

The sound was so small that it sounded like the rustling of some newborn animal's first stride across soft grass.

This feeling was too weird and unfamiliar, Harry realized that something might be wrong with him, he immediately woke up from the dazed state with a frown, and cast several detection spells on his body.

Seeing this, Blaise asked in a low voice, "Is there something wrong with the healing spell?"

He even sounded a little nervous and annoyed.

"Sorry, I'm not very good at it, I should practice more..."

"No, there's nothing wrong with the healing spell," the spell returned with a signal of good health. Harry frowned in distress, and fell back on the bed wondering, "It's just that there seems to be something wrong with me."

"Shall I check your wound?" Blaise said softly.

Harry nodded, and he hesitated for some reason when he took the initiative to open the hem of his clothes. Blaise didn't notice the momentary stagnation, and naturally reached out and pushed Harry's black shirt away.With nimble fingers, he untied the knot he personally tied yesterday, narrowed his violet eyes, leaned close to Harry's waist, and examined carefully with all his attention.

Although Blaise's healing spells were learned and sold, and he had no special talent for them, the spells still helped.On the waist and abdomen cut open by Sirius' special cutting spell, some small wounds have closed up, and there are several obvious subtle tender pink marks on the light wheat-colored skin.

The newborn skin was very sensitive, and Blaise leaned so close that every time his breath touched the pink tender flesh, it caused Harry's heart to quiver with a strange sense of awkwardness and guilt.

It obviously had nothing to do with the state of the wound healing, Harry told Blaise, "I think maybe it's not the wounds, but something is wrong with the soul."

"Could it be the aftereffects of being separated from Potter?" Blaise said helplessly, "We know too little about the effects of this... Now, I can only deal with these injuries for you."

"Okay, thank you very much," Harry said calmly, resisting the inexplicable urge to jump out of bed and run away from time to time.

To divert attention from the little condition of his soul - it felt like a butterfly fluttering around in his stomach - Harry surveyed Blaise's room curiously while he was changing his dressing.

Harry had never been in Blaise's room.

In other words, he always had a straight line of door-dining room-living room-bedroom, and didn't care about other parts of the wooden house that he lived in for half a year.

One obvious difference in Blaise's room was that it wasn't carpeted.

This dark wood-based bedroom is unexpectedly simple, with only basic furniture and several sets of tall bookcases. Although luxurious carvings can still be seen in the details, other non-practical items are lacking.

He'd thought Blaise's bedroom would be in the aristocratic style he'd imagined to be extravagant - a velvet bedcover embroidered with gold thread, a silver decorative sword encrusted with jewels, oriental china...whatever.

Harry suddenly realized that he didn't actually know Blaise well.

Lived with him relying on each other for more than half a year, and he didn't know anything about Blaise.

In order to protect others, Harry used to subconsciously draw a clear line, not to interfere, not to cross the line; without too much involvement, there would be no hurt or anger due to accidents, both sides.

There were so few people in the line that he didn't know if there was anyone there.

But Harry realized now that he had accepted Blaise from the moment he had accepted to leave with him.

He wouldn't ask Blaise what he was hiding, because he didn't want to be questioned either.Even living together, they did not change the pace of life. Harry guessed maybe Blaise would want to maintain the unspoken friendship between them.

Even though he still didn't know much about Blaise - that had never been the reason for his relationship with Blaise.

Because he had great trust in Blaise Zabini.

However, in retrospect, he never seemed to see any other aspects of Blaise.

No matter when, Blaise was always smiling when facing him, and he acted with ease, full of honeyed words, strategizing and perfect.

He can do just fine on his own.

Apart from Blaise Zabini, maybe nothing belongs to HarryJames Potter...

Harry noticed that the strange turmoil in his soul subsided, except for a negligible sourness in his heart, everything returned to calm.

"It's okay, Blaise. It might be an intermittent symptom." Harry breathed a sigh of relief.

Blaise's bandaging was just about to wrap up.

"The healing condition is not very good. I have to observe it for a few days and pay attention to the permanent presence of the waterproof spell."

"Thanks. Last night too." Harry jumped out of bed, tidied his clothes, looked around, and asked casually, "Blaise, do you like reading?"

Blaise laughed. "Why, honey? I've been looking at you all along."

Harry was so used to Blaise's off-kilter answers that he casually laughed, "Girls are going to be jealous of me.", then turned and left.

Harry obediently stayed at home to recuperate from his injuries, nestling on the sofa and watching TV all day long.

Blaise, who was on weekend vacation, also had nothing to do, decided to suppress his boredom with Muggles, and watched Muggle late-night shows with Harry——Blaise's schedule was based on British time, and Harry, who was recuperating from his injuries, also changed his schedule—and to Blaise The Muggles were amazed by all kinds of whimsy.

And when he was going to bed that day, Harry was lying in his dark and airtight bedroom, still a little dizzy, nauseated, and not breathing well.

Perhaps due to the influence of the growth environment before the age of 11, he was self-aware of the fact that he was prone to mild adverse reactions to dark and confined spaces many years ago.It's just that he rarely developed symptoms after entering Hogwarts, and he never had time to feel the panic in his heart when he was undercover or fighting.

At this moment, he had no choice but to repeatedly ask himself to strip away his anxiety, and to put this uncontrollable emotion behind him, but after a few hours, he only felt more depressed when he was awake.

Harry felt embarrassed.

He has always been quite independent, has nothing to rely on and does not need to rely on, so from the bottom of his heart, he despises himself who has lost his normal state due to a bad fight between Fenrir and Bella.

Blaise was already asleep when he awkwardly slipped into Blaise's bedroom again.He seemed to consciously vacate half of the bed.Sliding into Blaise's bed, Harry felt like a toddler frightened by thunder and looking for comfort, "Merlin, this is enough to kill me a hundred times," Harry muttered, wanting to stab himself to death with a stick, so ashamed , but soon fell asleep.

Blaise acted very naturally about this, didn't say anything, and went about his usual routine, as if they had been sleeping in the same room.

His indifference largely calmed Harry's self-loathing.

A few days later, when Blaise finished his bath and stepped out of the bathroom steaming in his bathrobe, Harry was already peacefully lying on his bed and fell asleep. There were even Muggle books with bookmarks and folded glasses next to the bed. .

Blaise smiled a small sly smile, flipped through the book of rare spells for a while, and then waved his wand, closed the curtains, and fell asleep covering Harry's wound.

After resting in peace for a few days, together with Blaise's two-pronged use of healing potions and healing spells, despite the repeated injuries, he is still recovering steadily on the whole.

On the day of changing the bandage, Blaise carefully confirmed the recovery of the wound, and was about to raise the corners of his mouth to say something, when he saw Harry's lips that were smiling slightly straighten, expressionless, and coldly caress his left arm.

"…Harry." Blaise whispered, clutching Harry's fingertips.

Harry gently withdrew his hand, putting on an emotionless blank expression.

"—that's just the right reminder." Harry sneered. "Looks like I'm going back to work. Sorry, Blaise."

Harry complied with the call of the Dark Mark, and after appearing with a 'snap', he saw long platinum blonde hair that was smooth and shiny even in the dark.

Lucius Malfoy had a cold face, handsome facial features without warmth like a marble statue, and a haughty look from his gray-blue eyes.

"You're late, Phoenix."

Harry approached Lucius calmly, channeling a tiny amount of power from the shards on his forehead, and swept across Lucius' arm quietly.

"Sorry, Malfoy, I hope you're willing to accept my apology." Harry grinned maliciously and twisted.

"You've said it a dozen times. How long will it take you to remember the basics of being on time?" Lucius gave Harry a menacing leer.

Harry chuckled, "Maybe two or three more times, Your Excellency Malfoy?"

The two secretly exchanged a look of confirmation.

Lucius snorted coldly, "Cover your disgusting face and follow." After finishing speaking, he walked straight behind Harry.

Harry pretended to be secretly angry, put on his mask in silence, clenched his fists and said nothing.

Only when the two brushed past each other, Lucius' breathy, insignificant voice passed by Harry's ears: "——Lord found out about you and Proth."

Proth? ...Blaise? !

Harry was terrified, and immediately raised his vigilance, following behind Lucius Malfoy.

Voldemort only summoned a few Death Eaters today, and when he and Lucius took turns to salute the Dark Lord, Harry took a quick look and found that they were all people of considerable status among the Death Eaters.

Hearing his and Lucius' voices, Bellatrix, who was hiding in the corner without saying a word, raised her head and stared at the silver mask, her eyes were burning with crazy resentment as before, but her face was covered with blood, her body was covered with wounds, and there were many minor injuries. The small wound was still bleeding black and twitching from time to time, apparently under some kind of punishing black magic curse.

Bella didn't seem to care about the wounds on her body at all.

For Bella to be like this, these injuries could only come from Voldemort. Harry couldn't help but feel his heart tighten, concentrating on it.

When the last Fenrir arrived, Voldemort waved his wand, and the heavy door slid shut silently, but there was a heavy closing sound in the hearts of everyone.

As usual, Voldemort said a few lavish opening remarks, expressing his affirmation of their sincerity.

Those bloody snake eyes suddenly met Harry.

"Speaking of which, our Phoenix—" Voldemort praised loudly. "In the previous anti-trap mission, Dumbledore's number one lackey, Sirius Black, was unexpectedly seriously injured. I can almost feel the grief and anger in Harry Potter's heart for a long time. Your strength and achievements have been recognized by the Dark Lord."

Harry knelt down in submission.

"And, I got some little news." Voldemort snapped his fingers, and Fenrir suddenly shouted in panic, and saw some kind of gray-black vines with more than an inch long spikes appear out of thin air, firmly binding the struggling The unstoppable werewolf wizard hung him far away in the air, and the stinky blood splashed all over the ground.

Lucius swung the snake-headed cane gracefully, light flickered in the air, and the blood was blocked by the arc-shaped shield a few feet away.

"It seems that Bellatrix Lestrange and Fenrir Greyback have done more than they have failed, and they have ruthlessly pulled back their legs." Voldemort said, "They took my Orders on the back burner, mindless power grabs on the mind, obliterating what should have been a major advance - killing Sirius Black, who miraculously survived the Department of Mysteries - and nearly killing my right-hand man, sincerly Servant Phoenix."

Harry bowed his head, repeatedly thanking Voldemort for his praise, and curled his lips inwardly.

How could Voldemort not know that Bella and Fenrir would take the opportunity to attack?

If it wasn't for Voldemort's hints and attitude, wanting the three to check and balance each other, how could they be so obviously opposed to Phoenix?

If he dies, it just means that he is not strong enough to be a pity to lose this pawn.

He survived, so it was Bella and the others who were punished, and he had to wag his tail in honor of Voldemort's half-truthful praise.

"Phoenix, I give you the right to punish these two with your own hands." Voldemort waved his hand as an invitation.

Harry took a deep look at Voldemort, and the DarkLord gave him an almost encouraging look.

So Harry got up, raised his wand steadily, pointed at Fenrir, who was pale and ferocious in the distance, and shouted clearly: "The flames are raging."

Crimson flames gushed out from the tip of the staff, and burned layer by layer along the vines made of curses.The sharp thorns on the vines were scorching hot, piercing into the flesh of the werewolf, and every time they struggled, they burned the internal organs, and the air was filled with a burning smell.

The thick-skinned werewolf did not die on the spot in the well-controlled flames, but howled and writhed in the scorching waves of fire.

Several Death Eaters who had never had direct contact with Phoenix avoided Harry's gaze, their faces turning slightly pale.

After adding a simple soundproof spell to Fenrir, Harry gently put away his wand, let the werewolf behind him howl silently, and returned to Voldemort.

"What's the matter, Phoenix?" Voldemort said softly, "Is this enough? And you still have one. This is your reward."

Harry knelt down on one knee, "Lord, I think she has suffered and punished enough—a sentence of your appreciation for me will cause her more anxiety and pain than hundreds of thousands of Cruciatus Curse."

Bella's complexion suddenly changed, and her facial features were crazily distorted.

Voldemort chuckled with interest.

"Phoenix, you are so sharp and smart." He praised generously, very satisfied with the two punishments Harry chose.

He took a few steps forward with a relaxed expression, as if he was thinking about something interesting to do in the rare afternoon.

Nagini followed suit, the giant snake swayed at his feet, and the huge snake head swayed like a pendulum.

"Ah, yes, and one more thing."

Volodemort said suddenly.

Suddenly, a Cruciatus hit Harry's heart. ?