The Handsome Dark Lord[Comprehensive]

The laboratory was in a mess, and the overturned crystal bottle on the desk was lying by the door, and red blood was slowly flowing.

Voldemort barely supported himself on the edge of the stage, the arm holding the wand trembling slightly.

Failed--

It failed—

His brain was dizzy for a while, and his eyes were black and white. The extraction magic just consumed too much energy, but Muggle Day came as scheduled.

Damn-damn-damn!

He clenched his fists fiercely, the unhealed wound burst open, blood oozes out, soaking his sleeves.

No--

There is no "enemy" element——

How can it be? !

The conceptual beliefs that are full of magic elements of wizards flow in his blood, and his blood comes from Harry. Even if he has already liked many saviors, it is impossible to have all · no · enemy · enemy · composition · components!

Taking a step back, if there is really no such component due to unknown reasons, then... what is it... what is blocking his magic power!

The yew wand was in the palm of his hand, but he couldn't cast the simplest healing spell.

He let the wound bleed, and the angry flames swept across his body, stinging every inch of nerve.The familiar surrounding environment suddenly became full of threats, and even the bright and dancing candlelight seemed to hide invisible murderous intent.

Everything that the trust had depended on was gone, and at this moment, a simple foot-stirring spell could knock him down.It seemed that suddenly he became the most vulnerable baby in the world, and a stone flying from anywhere could kill him.

Since having Harry, he has hardly experienced this feeling again, he almost forgot...forgot this damn disgusting moment...the disgusting unbelievable weakness...what an unbearable feeling...

Harry... the name didn't make him relax. Although the savior should be able to save the current bad state, it couldn't make him relax his vigilance.

That's a devastating call for help only as a last resort.

When he extracted too much "enemy", unable to recover normally, and even lost consciousness, he could only rely on Nagini to guide Harry in for rescue.

At that point, his secrets would no longer exist either.

There is no need now...

At this moment, there was a faint shout, and then people entered his office.

Damn reckless brat—this thought flashed in his mind, and the magic outside the laboratory was broken by Parseltongue.

The savior broke in.

"Tom!"

Voldemort's eyes flicked across, meeting Harry's emerald green eyes.

The anxiety and worry in it froze instantly, shrinking into a very small point, as if frozen silently.

The moment their eyes made contact, Harry almost felt a flash of killing intent.The long-lost but not unfamiliar cold killing intent reappeared in those red eyes that were born evil.

In contrast, there was almost no blood on Voldemort's face, it seemed that all the bright red was gathered in those eyes, turning into a pair of infinitely sharp blood-dropping knife tips.

The heart constricted in shock.The anxious shouting in his throat fell silent in an instant.

The laboratory door closed automatically.

There was only flickering candles burning in the room.

"……how?"

Voldemort broke the silence.

He propped himself on the edge of the laboratory table, like a beast watching in the dark.

The atmosphere was strangely dignified. Harry stood there for a while, looking across the messy laboratory table. Discarded tissues and liquids that could not be seen as raw materials were scattered everywhere. The used reagent bottles were piled up on the wooden rack, and there were broken reagent bottles under his feet. Shards of glassware, stained with blood from someone Harry didn't dare think about.

"You ask me...how?"

His voice changed slightly, reflecting the bloody scene in front of him.YouQi's gaze fell on Voldemort's bloody arm.

"Should I ask you this?"

Voldemort did not answer, exuding a cold Do Not Disturb breath all over his body.

"You should wait for me in the auditorium."

Harry laughed angrily, but couldn't pull out a smile.

He was the one who told him to stay, and he was the one who didn't show up for a long time. How could he speak so lightly, even—turning black and white?

What he said was, "You're hurt."

As he spoke, he approached slowly.

"...it doesn't matter."

said Voldemort, eyes following him silently.

Harry could feel the creeping threat.

It seemed that if he took a step closer, he would threaten to attack.

"You have to fix it quickly." He was almost calm.

In the end, I kept an arm's distance from him.

Voldemort was silent for a moment, took a crystal vial from the test tube rack with one hand, uncorked the cork, and poured the glittering crystal powder on the wound slowly.

The blood-stained sleeve was quickly covered by the powder, and no new blood flowed out.Voldemort took several more bottles of liquid potion, drank two of them, counted out several pills from each bottle, mixed them with the last bottle of steaming potion and drank them all.

Harry watched him finish his drink without saying a word, feeling more and more strangely out of place.

Not to mention Voldemort's inexplicable hostility that was almost blatant from beginning to end...His behavior reveals an indescribable violation of common sense...Where is it...

Harry's eyes were still tangled up on his arm, where the blood that flowed out stretched all the way from the laboratory table to the door, forming a dark pool of blood.

As a matter of course, Harry recalled the few words he had seen on Snape's desk.

blood temperature...

Apparently Voldemort was conducting similar experiments.

"What the hell are you doing?"

Harry couldn't help reaching out to confirm his wound, but was cleverly dodged.

"The medicine will take effect for a while."

Voldemort didn't answer the question.

Harry scratched the air with his fingers and bent slightly, as if he was enduring it.

Voldemort narrowed his eyes slightly, with a hint of coaxing in his voice: "Go outside and wait for me."

Harry didn't leave as he expected, but lowered his head and asked depressedly.

"...What kind of experiment is it?"

He raised his gaze, and asked further without waiting for Voldemort's answer.

"What was the feeling from the soul connection just now?"

I don't know if it was due to the effect of the medicine, but Voldemort slightly propped up his upper body and turned into supporting the experimental table with one hand.

Still no answer.

"And what have you done to your own blood...your own soul...?"

Harry asked bitterly.

This time Voldemort finally said, "This has nothing to do with you."

Harry was pissed off almost instantly.He grabbed his arm, trying to see the wound clearly, but was thrown away more violently.

The wound had just been sealed with the powder, and it opened again due to violent movement. Warm blood covered Harry's hands, burning him like scalding hot water.

Harry's face turned slightly pale, and he stared at it unreasonably, but saw that Voldemort's face, which had just regained some vitality, turned pale, and he leaned against the laboratory table again, with cold sweat dripping from his forehead.

"What's going on..." Harry stepped forward in a panic, but was stopped: "Stop!"

Voldemort closed his eyes and hissed softly, "Don't touch me."

Where Harry touched, the nerves were being stabbed, and the brain was slightly dizzy.

But at the same time, the wonderful feeling of the return of magic power also came as expected.Almost want to drive him crazy.

Voldemort had never experienced such divisive polarities.The problem that was originally solved by the resurrection magic reappeared with the excessive loss of blood, but the magic power still made trouble at this time——

Temporarily needing to stay away from the Saviour—

Harry watched his reaction, recalling the scene nervously, and finally realized.

A similar thing happened in first year before Voldemort was resurrected... as long as he touches Voldemort's body, it will burn him...much worse than before...

He slowly raised his hands, signaling that he would not come any closer.

"...What should I do?" He persistently reminded, "Your injury is still not healed."

Voldemort was suffering from both mental and physical torture, and was extremely irritable by his questions. "You don't need to say it!"

"Then cure it quickly!" Harry was also forced to get angry, "Or I will help you!"

It was obviously a conversation of concern, but the two made it look like a provocative fight.

Harry took out his wand, intending to cast a little healing spell from his long-term medical society—quidditch is too easy to get hurt, he went to the medical wing, and Madam Pomfrey taught him the simple method of emergency hemostasis. Curse—Voldemort took a wary step back.

As if he was going to kill him!Harry thought to himself, murmuring a spell unmoved.Faint fluorescent light shrouded the wound, and the bleeding was quickly and shallowly stopped.This scene made Harry feel wrong.

"Okay." Voldemort issued the order to evict the guest again, "Go out."

"I don't want to." Harry frowned and said, the lingering sense of weirdness made him unable to move, and he simply refused, "No matter what you want to do, I can wait here."

But he didn't expect that in the next second, Voldemort was already in front of him, and the strength he didn't know came from pushed him down on the experimental table.

"You shouldn't have forced me to do it myself."

Every inch of skin touched by the body was scorching and stinging like being scorched by fire. Voldemort endured the cruel gaze, only his voice revealed some hoarseness.

The magic returned to his body, and the two opposite senses tormented the body and mind. He gripped the yew wand tightly again, and threw Harry out the door through the air.

This was not the first time Harry had fought against him. Although he couldn't resist directly, he was still prepared. Before flying out the door, he was grabbed by the waist by invisible magic and pushed back like a spring.

"Why!" Harry demanded loudly, "can't you back down just once?"

"It really has nothing to do with you."

"It has nothing to do with me!" Harry said angrily, "Then what am I staying in school for? Do you know what day it is?"

"...I told you to wait outside."

"Why! What are you doing to avoid me?" Harry shouted impulsively, "Even if you want to kill Aberforth..." He stopped slightly, his eye circles turned red instantly, and said in a trembling voice, " ...Did I really stop you to the end?"

"..." Voldemort fell silent.

Something even made him look away unconsciously.

The effect of the medicine just now...maybe almost worked...the blood volume will recover soon...

It's okay for Harry to stay—

He looked back at Harry, who was slowly raising his holly wand, watching him with a mixture of eerie and unmistakable disbelief.

"Could it be..." he muttered to himself, "It's not the blood temperature...so that's it...it's actually a magical reaction..."

The green eyes suddenly became as sharp as the light of a death-defying curse, locking him firmly.

"Disarm," Harry said softly.

It is almost the minimum magical strength, but at this moment he has no power to resist.

——No, I will be discovered...!

The voice of objection in my mind only appeared at this moment.

The yew wand was out of his hand.