The Handsome Dark Lord[Comprehensive]

Hogsmeade village is covered in silver.

Heavy snow drifted between the sky and the earth, and even though it was getting late, the light was still bright.

Children wearing Santa hats shouted and ran across the street, and parents with large and small shopping bags all over their bodies called out helplessly behind them.There are red and white Christmas elves floating near the signboards of the merchants, a huge Christmas tree stands in the middle of the street, and wizard families in twos and threes stop nearby to take pictures.

Infected by the festive atmosphere, Harry's cheeks flushed a little with excitement.He stared intently at a couple under the Christmas tree. They were carefully taking out their little daughter from the stroller and putting her on a small children's Christmas hat.

The wife took out an antler-shaped headband from her husband's backpack, put it on her head, and teased her daughter to smile at Dad's camera.There will be a sweet magical picture in it, like the kind everyone has as a child.

Voldemort stopped, uninterested in the sight, and just glanced sideways at Harry.

The white snow scene set off the savior's skin extremely transparently, wrapped in a Gryffindor's brightly colored scarf, diluted by the white mist slowly emitting from the mouth and nose, making it look light and lively.

"Not over there." Voldemort reminded.Harry had reached the intersection and was about to pass unconsciously.

Only then did Harry realize that Voldemort had stopped.

Their eyes met, and for some reason, they fell into a moment of silence.

Harry's eyes lacked the clearness of the past, soaked in an indistinguishable fluid.Voldemort's eyes were the same as usual, but still, letting the wind and snow fall into the silence between the two.

Harry even wandered off for a while, until the cold snow inhaled into his nostrils, and he was jolted back to his senses.

Inexplicably anxious.

He looked in the direction ahead and asked, "Isn't it Madam Puddy's teahouse?"

It's a famous date mecca, and while it's not specifically festive, it certainly serves Christmas dinner too.Harry subconsciously thought they were going there.

Voldemort's gaze fell to his forehead.

"You will be recognized."

Realizing that he meant something, the scar suddenly became very existential, and even seemed to be slightly hot.

In fact, they seldom touched on the topic of the scar, especially after Voldemort controlled it to no longer hurt, and Harry often even forgot its existence.

But the wizarding world will not forget.

The scar marked his identity more than any other feature.

"Follow me."

Voldemort turned and led Harry down a side path.

They gradually moved away from the crowds in the lively neighborhood, the snow under their feet was getting thicker and thicker, and there was a creaking sound when they walked on it.

Harry narrowed his eyes, the wind and snow had blown his messy hair down, revealing his smooth forehead, and the lightning scar was more profound under the reflection of the snowflakes.

Voldemort suddenly had a strong realization that this scar was his mark on Harry.

Unique, world-famous, marking the identity of the savior, marking his rival, marking the destiny that belongs only to the two of them.Unique, like a shadow.

Anyone who sees it knows Harry Potter, he knows the Dark Lord, and he knows their incomparable connection.

The scar was warming slightly again, this time it was not an illusion, and Harry looked slightly sideways at Voldemort, meeting those meaningful red eyes.

Vaguely, he saw himself.Lightning scars in the snowstorm.

Voldemort looked away, and those vague feelings dissipated.

Unlike the previous ignorance, the refinement of Occlumency enhanced Harry's sensitivity to memory and thought processes, and he immediately realized that a short-term connection of the soul link had just occurred.

Voldemort's Occlumency has always been impenetrable. Even if the connection occurs, Harry can rarely perceive his thoughts, so his thoughts are often read unilaterally. If it is concealed enough, Harry will not even notice it.

The connection was so fleeting that Harry didn't even have a thought to read in his head at the moment, an accident of inattention.In the past, Harry wouldn't have felt anything at all, but this time he seemed to have touched the tail of that link, and couldn't help thinking about it over and over again.

"We have arrived."

Hearing Voldemort's voice, Harry returned to observe the surrounding environment, and suddenly found that this was the original location of the Pig's Head Pub.

Gone are the dilapidated brackets and bloodstained wooden signs, replaced by renovated fences and houses.After Aberforth was forced to move out, it turned into an exquisite restaurant at some point.

It is said to be a restaurant, but there is no signboard or menu. It is simply written under the metal door plate: private restaurant-reservation required.

If it weren't for a little yellow light from the window, the door was closed tightly, as if refusing to open.

Contrary to Harry's curiosity, Voldemort was not interested in the transformation of the Pig's Head Bar. He took out his wand and clicked on the "reservation" on the door plate.

[Open the door. 】 Voldemort said.

The strokes finally connected into a cohesive whole, moving like a snake in response to the sound, crossing out all the remaining words, and showing the conjoined handwriting in the spare part at the bottom: Welcome!

Without waiting for Harry to study carefully, Voldemort pushed the door open and entered. The warmth of the room immediately attracted Harry, and followed him in.

Corresponding to the changes outside the house, the decoration inside the house has also been completely new. The simple and elegant style does not show the shadow of the old dilapidated small bar.Unexpectedly, falling into the hands of dark forces made it look brighter and more comfortable.

The size of the restaurant is not large, but there are few tables and many partitions. Each table is as spacious and comfortable as a small private room.

Harry followed Voldemort to the predetermined location. Even though the snow outside reflected the fading sky light, the room was inevitably darkened.The strange thing is that there are no bright lights in the dining room, only breathing lights that flicker on and off on the floor, so that people can't see the way clearly.

In fact, in the entire restaurant, there are only burning candles on the table they reserved, which is almost the only light source of open flame.

Besides, Harry hadn't seen a third person since they entered the door.In other words, not to mention other customers, there is no boss who is a part-time waiter or cashier.There were only the two of them in the restaurant.

Even if the Dark Lord's place was supposed to spread terror, Harry hoped that at least their Christmas dinner would be normal.

He muttered to himself, and sat down with Voldemort on the reserved seat by the French window.

The table is already full of sumptuous food and beverages. The fat grilled chicken is shining attractively under the candlelight. The bacon and sausages are piled up in delicate woven baskets, with thick lettuce leaves underneath. Sauces of different colors fill a nine-square platter, juice, milk, alcoholic beverages...everything.

Everything Harry could imagine a Christmas dinner should be, was on this table.

His mood perked up again.He picked up the tableware and glanced at the person opposite.

Voldemort was looking at him with his face propped up, and he nodded slightly when he received this expectant look.

Harry started off immediately and unceremoniously.After wolfing down for a while, he calmed down his stomach temporarily, and gradually felt something was wrong, so he raised his eyes and looked opposite.

Voldemort lowered his eyes, and fiddled with the sauce on the plate with his fork, but he didn't see any ingredients for dipping.He had always had a lack of appetite and little enthusiasm for his meals, so Harry didn't notice at first that the other side of the main course, the roast turkey, was completely untouched.

"Didn't you eat a bite?" Harry asked, pointing to the turkey.

Voldemort glanced at the greasy roast chicken and nodded wearily, as if he didn't even bother to say anything.

Harry frowned slightly. No matter how anorexic he was, it was too abnormal not to touch roast chicken for Christmas dinner.Although I am not very keen on it at ordinary times, it is not enough to not eat at all.

"not hungry?"

Voldemort didn't answer.In fact, on the contrary, the magic experiment just experienced consumes a lot, and even if he drank a lot of energy replenishing potions, it is impossible to recover all at once. At this time, he needs to eat to replenish energy.

But he couldn't eat it at all.

Not only could he not eat, but the whole Christmas dinner disgusted him, and the whole Hogsmeade village immersed in the festive atmosphere disgusted him. The date planned before the experiment was a complete mistake, and he was in no mood to continue now.

"what happened?"

Harry finally sensed something was wrong, staring at him and asking.

Voldemort's gloomy gaze did not improve even when he turned to Harry.He could tell he was very angry, and he didn't think Harry was innocent.

However, by a strange coincidence, when the fingertip touched the mechanism of the cuff, it turned out by itself.

Before he could react, a rose had already appeared on his hand.

He was staring almost as dumbfounded as Harry at the red rose in his hand.For half a second, he even wondered what he was thinking a few days ago?

This old-fashioned trick... was almost in vogue when he was young.Moreover, the flowers compressed into cufflinks would lose most of their fragrance and flexibility, so they were completely useless, even though he used them often for convenience at that time.

...Probably used it too easily, and put it on the sleeve as soon as I thought about it.

After finding everything, I can only say according to the plan: "I brought you flowers."

Hearing this sentence, Harry's expression turned from surprise to weirdness.

Voldemort seemed not to see it, and handed it to him calmly.

"do not like?"

Seeing that Harry didn't answer for a long time, he was even able to ask questions calmly.

Harry watched him carefully, and it was really hard to say whether he liked it or not.

If he hadn't said that...or at least not added this in this way.

It is simply the reappearance of the memory of the young Voldemort visiting the old lady Hepzibah in the Pensieve.

He couldn't forget how this guy kissed the old woman's fat hand softly before saying this!

His expression back then...was exactly the same as now!

"Happy. Happy." Harry gritted his teeth and snatched the rose from his hand. The fire in his eyes was completely opposite to what he said, and everyone could hear the dissatisfaction in it.

But Voldemort was not interested in being a man at this time. Seeing that Harry had received the flowers, he picked up the fork and picked up the nearby potato chips, dipping in the sauce and saying irrelevantly, "Eat it."

After such an interruption, I was able to eat something instead.

Harry narrowed his eyes, held the rose and looked at him for a while, then asked calmly, "What are you angry about?"

Skip whether or not, and ask him why.

It's a pity that this keenness and persistence failed to break his false calm, but it also made him lose the last bit of appetite.

In fact, he didn't draw out his wand to kill anyone to vent his anger. He felt that his endurance was already very impressive.

The ambience of sitting here alone was enough to remind him of the words spoken in the hospital wing, and the absolutely impossible conversation Dumbledore had with good intentions, let alone this ill-timed rose, which he didn't know how he could swallow calmly food in mouth.

"Eat quickly," he said finally, grimly.Barely regained his sanity. "It'll be fine when you go back."

Instead of pressing further, Harry thoughtfully cleared away the leftovers.

The two of them finished eating almost equally.Towards the end, desserts appeared on the table, still no wait staff, and Harry realized they were being served by house-elves.Like at Hogwarts, invisible.But the strange style of the restaurant could no longer arouse his interest, and the low pressure on Voldemort's body opposite was almost visible to the naked eye.

He stared at the dessert that had suddenly appeared on his plate, his fingers motionless, as if suppressing the urge to draw out his wand.

"If you don't have an appetite, you should eat some sweets." Harry reminded him, "It can replenish more energy."

For some reason, this sentence angered him even more.Voldemort raised his eyes to stare without thinking, but was met by those green eyes.Harry's eyes seemed more penetrating than usual, and for a moment, his anger was dispelled.

But in a flash, the moment of the medical wing appeared in my mind again.

- I still don't think...

——If there must be...

- you can almost think that...

too disgusting.This disgusting...

He woke up suddenly, built Occlumency, and stared at Harry opposite him incredulously.

"you--"

"Really?" There was no joy in Harry's eyes, but he stared at him firmly, "Is that sentence so annoying to you?"

The mind-reading attack just now was planned for a long time. For the first time, the savior calculated the Dark Lord's inadvertence with his mind, and finally succeeded by relying on the deeper soul connection between them.Although it was quite an achievement to say the least, Harry couldn't focus on it at all.How happy he was when he heard that sentence, and how shocked he was when he heard that.

Why do you hate to tell him?Why don't you care about giving him flowers?Why do you want to go out on a date with him if you don't want to eat?

There is no need to do this.Even if it's for a short-term source of magic power, or to keep it secret... just kill him, or, as he said, find a chance to imprison him.

His question also succeeded in provoking Voldemort's wrath.

"Don't take it for granted," he said briefly. "Dumbledore knows best what I am. Didn't he warn you?"

"What does that have to do with Dumbledore!" said Harry angrily. "It's you I love!"

As if a dumb bomb had been accidentally detonated, Voldemort looked at him intently without speaking.

Harry, too, was taken aback by what he had blurted out, but somehow, the oppression in Voldemort's eyes calmed him instead.

He breathed a sigh of relief, without hesitation, looked at him seriously and repeated: "I love you."

For the first time Voldemort felt an uncontrollable throbbing in his chest.

"Hate it?" Harry asked him, "That sentence."

"……Say it again."

Harry said without hesitation, "I love you."

Voldemort lowered his gaze and picked up the chocolate ganache drizzled over the pastry with the tip of his knife.

"Did you hate it?" Harry asked persistently.

Slowly licking the chocolate off the knife, a slight sweetness and bitterness permeated the tip of the tongue.

Tom savored, thoughtfully: "...it didn't come from your mouth."