The Handsome Dark Lord[Comprehensive]

Under the extreme grief and indignation, Harry's thinking became clear instead, and the sense of disobedience that had been going on since he entered the door finally showed its clues, which made him enlightened.

It's magic.

Voldemort never used magic.

From healing the wound, to being unsteady on his feet, trying to throw him out, without even trying to raise his own wand.

It wasn't until the magic that threw him towards the automatically opened experiment door just now that Harry's mind flashed what was wrong.

He obviously likes to use some handy little magic when there is no need for it. He obviously doesn't like to expose the wand when it is not necessary, but now he let the wand be put aside and insists on using potions to stop the bleeding.

If there was anything special about the wound... even his half-baked Hemostatic Charm would work.

The experimental content seen on Snape's desk: blood temperature, magic response.

It never occurred to Harry that the key to everything could be the latter.

how can that be possible?Everyone knows the horror of the mysterious man, and Harry understands the root of his rise since he was a child... How is it possible?It just happens to be this... the most unimaginable... magic power.

He couldn't believe such a speculation, but he couldn't help wanting to verify it.

With little thought, he cast the spell instinctively.

The gentlest yet deadliest Disarming Curse that I used to fight against him is still like breathing.

He used very little effort.

If it was him, he should be able to block it without any effort...

"Snapped……"

The yew wood wand was knocked down to the ground, rolled a few times along the inertia, shook it, and then stopped aggrievedly.

Harry's eyes froze.

The laboratory fell into a suffocating dead silence.

Voldemort stared at his wand, but did not pick it up, his pale face drained the last trace of warmth.

He asked coldly, "What do you mean?"

Even though he seems to be leaning on the edge of the laboratory bench, his eyes still look down from a high position.

Harry's gaze slowly moved up from the wand on the ground, following the shocking bloodstains all the way to his eyes glowing dangerously red.

His throat was tight and itchy, and Harry moved his Adam's apple, reminding him slowly and unsteadily: "You can... recall your wand."

To Voldemort's impassive gaze, he added - almost stupidly -

"Flying Curse... or something."

"Enough," said Voldemort, "and your wand, get out."

His tone was on the verge of an outburst.

Harry was furious.

"Impossible!" There was still a trace of hesitation at first, but now all of it turned into anger and spewed out recklessly, "Why don't you recall the wand? You can use it to drive me away!"

Voldemort's expression became extremely terrifying, his scarlet eyes were about to bleed, very much like the young Voldemort Harry saw in Dumbledore's memory.

With blue and white blood vessels protruding from under his skin, Voldemort stood up slowly and firmly, and walked away from the laboratory table, locking him with gloomy eyes motionless.

Harry was pierced through the wall of his heart by those eyes, and his throbbing pulse faintly swelled with subtle pain. He forced himself not to show any weakness, and greeted the approaching figure with equal strength.

But unexpectedly, Voldemort didn't attack, but reached out and caressed his cheeks, and he did it countless times, and now Harry didn't feel any intimacy.

Cold fingers landed on the side of his neck, the temperature was much lower than usual, the heat of blood could hardly be felt, the cold hit Harry's flesh and blood, making him shiver.

"Relax..." Contrary to the words in his mouth, his cold thumb rubbed his Adam's apple, and Voldemort seemed to ask casually, "What are you thinking... Harry?"

Harry involuntarily swallowed a mouthful of saliva.

The memory was about to move, and he lowered his eyes instantly, narrowly escaping a close-range instigmatism.

"Why don't you look at me?" Voldemort immediately asked in displeasure, moving his finger to his chin first.

Regardless of the discomfort in his heart, Harry grabbed his hand instinctively. The agility and maneuverability of Quidditch training showed, and he sideways walked around his position in one step, quickly opened the distance, and got closer to the experiment table.

At this time, the experiment door was closed again, and Voldemort let him escape, and when he turned around, there was already a yew wand in his hand.

The brief contact had been enough for him to silently recall his wand and magically lock the door at the same time.

Harry's first reaction was to look at the original position of the yew wand on the ground, and the battle scene in Roald's house was connected in his mind, and the chaotic clues that had been lingering for days became extremely clear in an instant. They are all connected in series to form a shocking picture.

That's it...that's it.

No wonder Voldemort wasn't using magic back then, no wonder he chose a gun over a wand, no wonder... that day... looking back... around this time!

more than!Not only the day Azkaban escaped...but also the day they met, at Roald's Bar...

It turns out that all the puzzles are already in hand, but the complete picture of the truth is beyond imagination.

The chaos visible to the naked eye spread across Harry, and before his brain realized it, his heart was throbbing ahead of time.

"Time... so it has something to do with time... right?" He asked depressedly, not knowing what kind of answer he was looking for, in front of someone who knew he would only get lies.

At first he didn't understand why the meeting in the bar would change everything, but now he finally guessed the key.

He knew too well how powerful Voldemort's magic was usually, so he never doubted... that there would be a moment when he had nothing.

And I'm afraid that night at the bar just happened to meet such a moment.

"Why did you tell me..." Harry murmured, not looking at Voldemort at all, "Why did you play with me... No wonder... how do you have the time..."

Voldemort approached silently again, Harry backed away without thinking, his green eyes raised to lock on him, as if the chaotic mind didn't exist at all.

"Don't come here," he said, clutching his wand. "Don't make me use magic...you can't use it now, can you?"

This sentence was like a thunderbolt, finally tearing away the last trace of fluke fantasy.

All the warmth and hypocrisy have faded from that handsome face, like a glacier emerging from the water, revealing the ferocious and ferocious face that has been lurking for a long time.

Harry's heart was still trembling, maybe it was precisely at this moment that Voldemort rushed over without warning.The accumulated power exploded out, even taking into account Harry's dodging instinct, he didn't cling to the subject, but turned sideways to meet the hand that raised the wand subconsciously, and the yew wand and the returning magic power exerted force at the same time.

"The giant beast is overwhelmed!"

An invisible force descended suddenly and crushed Harry to the ground with an irresistible force. Voldemort, who had lost his support, also fell on top of him, pressing firmly on top of Harry, not forgetting to make up the Disarming Curse weakly.

The holly wand flew out of the palm of his hand, and just like the previous yew wand, it rolled on the ground several times before barely stopping.

After all this was done, Voldemort had time to take a few breaths, slowly propped up his body from the constant dizziness and weightlessness, tried hard to focus, and it took a while to clearly see Harry who was pinned down and unable to move.

"Don't... think..." He still spoke with uncontrollable panting, but it didn't detract from the lethality in the slightest, "I dare not kill you..."

Harry's pupils trembled slightly, and a ridiculous laugh suddenly broke out.

"Hahaha...you dare, of course you dare!"

He struggled violently.Without a wand in hand, he couldn't cast the Flying Charm out of thin air like Voldemort had done.But he knew he had to fight, even though his soul was dying.

"Why don't you dare! I even give my heart to you...Why don't you dare!"

"To shut up!"

This accusation, which was tantamount to a confession, strangely angered Voldemort. Instead of being satisfied, he viciously strangled the Savior by the throat.

"What do you like about me? This superficial skin? If I were replaced by my newly resurrected appearance, would you still be able to give me that great heart?"

Even though it was hard to breathe, Harry couldn't help but widen his eyes, and Voldemort's face twisted slightly in front of him. Looking carefully, he could see that it was deforming towards the terrifying appearance he had seen in the cemetery.

This process is ten times more terrifying than facing the snake-like face rising from the cauldron.

In such a distorted image, Voldemort showed a contented, almost bloodthirsty smile—if that could still be called a laugh.

"...don't make me laugh, brat."

Harry stared at him blankly. The image hadn't been able to transform successfully, perhaps because of his current poor state. Harry could feel the temperature of the body pressing on him fluctuated from hot to cold, and even shivered slightly.But even so, he did not hesitate to spend a lot of effort to transform into a snake face... Even the strength in his hands was relaxed.

Harry smiled oddly.

With a slight snap, something snapped in Harry's pocket, and at last his hand twisted enough to touch the yew wand - he had used it before, knew its properties, and only Need to borrow a little strength--

Here comes the wand!

He gritted his teeth and tried to use only silent spells with all his might.

Feeling the urgency of its master, the holly wand swooped back and was held precisely by Harry—Voldemort had already stopped the Transfiguration Curse in a rage, but Harry had only one thought in his mind——

All it takes is one spell—Harry has been able to complete it in less than half a second, having accompanied him and his friends through countless dangers since the second grade—

"Wingardim Leviosa!"

It couldn't be simpler - the floating spell.

Even in such a dire situation, Voldemort's reflexes were still excellent. The Levitation Charm was disturbed, and the magic that was supposed to levitate him in the air failed as soon as it took effect, and the result was to throw him halfway to the ground.

Harry was panting heavily, and hadn't recovered from the lack of oxygen, but got up immediately to confirm Voldemort's safety.

The figure that fell on the ground didn't move at all, as if, along with the magic power, even the last trace of strength disappeared.

Unbelievably, Harry's first reaction to this scene was one of near-colic terror.

He staggered, knowing he shouldn't take half a step closer, but he couldn't control his legs.