The Handsome Dark Lord[Comprehensive]

When Harry awoke, the heavy curtains blocked out all the daylight.He fumbled for the glasses next to the bed, and when he walked out of the bedroom, he realized that it was already bright outside.

"How long have I been asleep..."

He rubbed his hair and walked to the dining room. A slender figure sat at the end of the long table, putting down the coffee in his hand and looking at him.

"Wake up. Are you hungry?"

For some reason, this scene seemed a bit unreal and ordinary, and Harry was in a daze, and sat down at the other end of the long table which was vacant.

Tableware and food appeared in front of my eyes. The house elves seemed to have been ordered. The fried eggs and sausages were still steaming, which greatly increased my appetite.

Harry took a sip of milk to moisten his throat, and glanced at the man opposite while eating.Voldemort seemed to have eaten almost a long time ago. The plate with a lot of food left was pushed far away. He only held a cup of coffee and read the newspaper. But that state was rare for Harry to be relaxed.

The long table was as wide as four or five people, and the distance between the two ends was really far away. Harry only caught a glimpse of the front-page photo of the Dark Mark, and his heart felt a little nervous. He tried to squint his eyes, but he couldn't read the newspaper clearly. I can't help but regret the seat I decided on arbitrarily.

"Hmm...cough." He deliberately attracted Voldemort's attention, and said in a pretended natural way under the raised eyebrows of the other party, "Would you like to sit here?"

He also pointed to the place next to him.

He hadn't finished eating and it was inconvenient to move, so he wanted to guide the newspaper to move it over.

I don't know if he has seen through his intentions, the owner of the newspaper smiled faintly, bowed his head and continued to read.

"No need."

Shocked by his lack of interest in his tone, Harry began nibbling resentfully.

After a while, he simply said, "I want a copy too, that newspaper."

Voldemort didn't even move his eyelids: "Sorry, I only ordered one copy."

"...Then let me read it."

This time Voldemort hurried through the last line, put down the newspaper and looked up at him.Just before Harry thought his conscience had noticed, he picked up his wand in the hand that put down the newspaper, and said very redundantly: "The fire is raging."

The newspaper was burnt to nothing.

"...?" Harry wondered, did he think the breakfast time was too dull?

"Eat well, Harry." The instigator said shamelessly, "We still have a lot to talk about. Until then, these things shouldn't pollute your sight."

"It's up to you whether it's polluted or not?" Harry asked suspiciously, "Is it because the Death Eaters have done something outrageous and you don't want me to know about it?"

"They do it every day." Voldemort sneered. "It's not just them. There are countless people, wizards, Muggles, who are doing harm every day. Are you going to stop them one by one?"

Even across the long table, Harry could feel that there was no smile in the eyes of the person opposite.

"Eat well, Harry," repeated Voldemort, getting up to leave. "You won't be able to eat any more on this subject."

"..." Harry stared silently at him as he disappeared down the stairs, imagining that the sausage on the plate was his head, cut off with a knife, and chewed vigorously in his mouth.

Slowly, he also lost his breath and became slightly absent-minded.

The scenes of last night poured out from the depths of the night, endlessly.

Without knowing it, I really finished a big plate of breakfast.

After drinking the last glass of milk, his stomach was greatly satisfied, his whole body was filled with strength, and it also gave him the courage to face the upcoming...no matter what.

There was no one in the hall downstairs, and the black marble always looked deep and quiet.Even in the daytime, it is surrounded by burning wall fires, reflecting on the dark ground, like fishing fires roaming by the river.

Failing to see Voldemort, Harry turned to the wing, which contained many rooms and took up most of the ground floor.It's just that he has never set foot in it, and he doesn't know where to start.Fortunately, before I got close, I saw a room with an open door. When I walked in, I saw Voldemort sitting in a high-backed armchair by the fireplace.

This lounge is smaller than the ones Harry has ever been to, but the floor-to-ceiling windows cover the entire wall. The sun shines through the slightly brownish-yellow glass, rendering the room warm and bright, and even the complicated decoration becomes softer. It is completely different from the depressing and gloomy hall.

The same armchair had already been set up opposite Voldemort, and Harry sat on it thoughtfully, and suddenly realized something was wrong—the wand Voldemort was playing with was not the pale yew wand, but his holly wand!

As if sensing his panic, Voldemort's eyes shifted from his wand to him.

"Tinta Castle has a magic barrier, and the owl can't find it." He twirled the wand in his hand, "Where do you think this came from?"

Harry's first reaction was that the man had been killed, and he was about to blurt out an instinctive question, but then he thought that he had come back with Voldemort, at least last night he probably wouldn't have time to do anything to kill them all...

"Death Eater..." he speculated uncertainly, "is...is that person a Death Eater? Or did he meet a Death Eater?"

Voldemort was slightly surprised, but it was well concealed by his nonchalant expression.

Unable to see his emotions, Harry was even more uncertain, but he couldn't resist the instinctive worry.He asked tactfully, "Then... are you alright?"

"You don't even know the man's name." Voldemort put away his wand, and crawled out with a trace of sarcasm, "It's better to talk about our own affairs than those insignificant pawns."

coming.

Although he couldn't agree with his "insignificant" statement, the weight of this conversation itself was enough to make Harry give up any criticism.

He changed his sitting position uncomfortably, his fingers subconsciously groping for the armrest, and he inadvertently thought that if only he had his own wand in his hand now.

But at this moment, Akatsuki didn't even have the confidence to take back the wand from the Dark Lord.

There was a silence in the room.Voldemort, who took the initiative to provoke the topic, fell silent instead.

Harry thought he would be eager to question him, but in fact, last night's emotions seemed to have lost their strength, and even if they deliberately provoked them, they became limp and listless.

Just as he secretly looked at Voldemort impatiently, the latter suddenly returned from his contemplation and met his eyes.

"...First of all, one thing must be made clear." Voldemort said slowly, his tone unprecedentedly serious, "It is impossible not to kill someone."

Although he had expected it, hearing it with his own ears still made Harry's pupils constrict slightly.

“It’s part of the business,” he said, as if it were some kind of justice. “If you have that kind of unreasonable expectation, no conversation will come to fruition.”

"..." Harry was speechless.

He had a bunch of rebuttals, but they were all pressed in his stomach, unable to writhe.

"So what do you want to talk to me about?" he asked hopelessly. "How to build a Death Eater organization?"

Voldemort ignored the words and said, "You've been having unrealistic fantasies, Harry, and now I must make you realize that."

Unrealistic fantasies... Harry murmured in his head with damned precision.

"...I know." He maintained his superficial calm, ignoring the sunken corners of his heart, "I shouldn't have imagined that you can—"

"No, you don't know." Voldemort interrupted him, saying something Harry hadn't expected, "You think no one can hurt you because I don't want to kill you, don't you?"

Harry was slightly taken aback, not understanding the direction of the beginning.

"You think that Dumbledore has protected you until now, and he will protect you forever; no matter what happens, you can tell him everything, don't you?" He said sarcastically, "Not only him, but also your little friend, Your godfather, all your old acquaintances. You feel that if they were friends once, they always will be."

"I do not……"

"You think you kind people would never take the initiative to hurt someone." He ignored Harry's attempts to refute, and concluded coldly, "You think that as long as he is kind, he can be forgiven, no matter what crime he actually committed."

"I..." Harry was confused for two seconds, and asked fiercely, "What's wrong with that? Could it be... Isn't that why we can still talk peacefully?"

Voldemort's eyes finally paused, and his eyes turned a few layers of sharpness, and turned to the fireplace on one side.

It was only then that Harry noticed that there was something unusual about the decoration in the fireplace.The furnace cavity is empty, without accumulated smoke and charcoal, and there are no discolored and blackened wall tiles, only the clean white wall and the extra-bright grainy base, which seems to crumble when stepped on, making one doubtful of its purpose.

Voldemort quickly showed it could work.

"Remember the day... when you discovered my identity?"

Voldemort's voice drew Harry's attention back. At some point, he took out his wand, pointed the tip of the yew wand to his right temple, closed his eyes, and slowly condensed his thoughts.

Harry couldn't figure out what medicine was being sold in his gourd, and didn't respond.

Of course he still remembers the night of the showdown, but they hardly mentioned the details of that time, tacitly guarding a dangerously sensitive past, let alone shared memories.

The yew wand slowly pulled out a silky white floc, Harry was very familiar with it, it was the memory entity formed by the condensed magic.

With a slight flick of the stick tip, the entity of that memory floated leisurely towards the fireplace, fell into the flat fireplace base, dissipated like melting, and lit up countless particles on the base.They are then fired into tall, slender flames that run all the way to the top of the fireplace.

After a brief blinding light, a lifelike figure appeared in the white cavity of the fireplace.

Harry would have almost jumped out of his chair if he hadn't seen how Voldemort pulled the memory out with his own eyes.

Because half of Dumbledore was looking at him probingly in the fireplace!

"It's familiar, isn't it?"

Voldemort's voice brought Harry back to reality again.

"Dumbledore always likes to judge others like this, without the slightest respect for privacy."

...How dare he talk about other people?Harry took a quick look, but was distracted by the profile.

It's not uncommon either.It's just that the ones touching the temples have become knuckle fingers, the posture of leaning on the chair is somewhat casual, and the sideways eyes still reveal a kind of mocking leisure.

...all suited him.

It also goes a step further by making Harry realize that Dumbledore in the fireplace is just an illusion.

...Look carefully, it is just a three-dimensional image constructed by light and shadow.If it didn't appear in the white and clean special fireplace, one should be able to spot at a glance that Dumbledore's figure is somewhat transparent, like a colored ghost like Peeves.

"What is this?" Harry couldn't help asking.

"... a vision furnace that can demonstrate thinking." Voldemort finished curtly, then turned the topic back, "I read your brain that night...."

Harry couldn't help laughing ironically: "It's surprising."

Voldemort fell silent.Pointing his wand at the fireplace, Dumbledore spoke.

—"It's getting late, Harry, we should have finished..."

Dumbledore's voice came from the fireplace, and Harry couldn't figure out where it came from, but it was undoubtedly not the image of Dumbledore itself, because the voice he heard was much louder than normal people speaking, like It was the surround sound from a Muggle movie theater, curling and spreading everywhere.

After the sentence was finished, Harry was familiar with it, and then a pensieve appeared in front of Dumbledore in the fireplace. The whole scene became a little bigger, and it seemed that someone was standing a little farther away. All this was from his perspective See the picture.

Dumbledore hooked the Pensieve with his wand, and at the same time, the memory in Harry's mind——

—— "But... I have to ask you, hold on for a while, and finally look at a memory."

Too deep for him to forget.

It was this memory that made him discover Roald's true identity, which involved a series of upheavals since then.

but……

"what happened?"

The image ends here, without entering the Pensieve or any other follow-up.

Voldemort heard his question and played it again.

"Look at his expression." He stopped when Dumbledore said "I have to ask you", and said meaningfully, "Why do you think he said 'have to'?"

Harry was stunned for a moment, and turned his head to look carefully. Dumbledore's expression was the same as usual. If he had to say, his eyes were very focused... Kind of... But he couldn't say it well, and, after all, There is nothing wrong with this sentence, right?

"...I don't know." Harry said, "Maybe it's just a habit, Professor Dumbledore is more modest."

Voldemort sneered loudly, drawing a slightly rebuttal look from Harry.But he just took out another memory without saying a word, and threw it into the fireplace.

Another image of Dumbledore floated up, slightly overlapping with the previous one.However, he didn't bother to adjust, and moved directly.

In the same pensieve, a little figure of Trelawney rose slowly.Only then did Harry realize that the Pensieves of the two memories had completely overlapped.

- "The one with the power to conquer the Dark Lord approached... born into a family that defeated the Dark Lord three times... born at the end of the seventh month..."

After Trelawney's villain finished these three sentences, he fell back again, while Dumbledore in the image watched him and said softly.

— "That's the truth, Harry."

This time Harry realized the problem.

He didn't know it at the beginning, but now he found out when he learned the ins and outs. At this time, Dumbledore didn't tell him the complete prophecy, but said it was the truth.

Voldemort clicked the original Dumbledore again, watching him with the later one.

Harry suddenly noticed that Dumbledore's expression was exactly the same when he said these two paragraphs.

He couldn't help but look at Voldemort... what on earth did he mean?