The Handsome Dark Lord[Comprehensive]

Snape was already in a trance in the dungeon.There is no light or sound in the dark cell, and even the air is tiny.Only the sound of water dripping through the stone day after day comes from the water prison in the deepest part of Tinta Wine Castle.

Maybe it was luck, maybe it was negligence, he wasn't locked up there.But his cell wasn't much better, the walls and floor were bare and identically cold.He has never seen anyone, neither the inmates nor the prison boss, not even the house elf who delivered the food, not even the person who tortured and extorted a confession, maybe the world has forgotten his existence up.

At first Snape was still able to rejoice, it was better to be forgotten than tortured.Unlike those students in the ivory tower, he had witnessed too many torture methods of the Dark Lord, and being able to avoid those experiences was definitely a blessing.

But over time, he grows weak, bored, and hollow.Obviously, the food that is delivered from time to time still maintains the most basic energy of the body, but their portion is getting smaller and smaller, and the time is out of order, slowly consuming his strength, and the darkness and dead silence are still depriving him of his existence bit by bit senses.For a while, he was on the verge of collapse in the extreme silence and emptiness.He gradually forgot Kirtland's life and death, the situation of the Order of the Phoenix, Dumbledore's concealment, and Harry Potter... Why did he even care about that annoying kid?

Even this doubt can't last forever.

And then he fell back into the monotonous, unchanging thought hell of dripping water cursed with indigestible darkness.

Recently, he has often been in the repetition of consciousness, sometimes waking up with the sound of dripping water, and sinking into darkness again in a trance.When there is no consciousness, people don't know anything about time, but it is a relief-like self-protection.

Dazedly, Snape became conscious again, his eyelids loosened, and a faint light leaked in.

The hazy fluorescent shadow vaguely depicts half of the person sitting on the ground, with tight lips, and the shadow of the cheekbones cast under the eyes, making the little green in the depths of the pupils more profound.

His heart vibrated instinctively, and he shook his head before he recognized Potter.

The green eyes drooped down, like the sharp reflections on the edge of armor, with some kind of unknowable scrutiny, as if he had nowhere to hide.

"Potter...?" Snape realized his voice was dry as soon as he spoke, "Why are you here?"

With the cell door open and no one else present, it was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to escape.

Snape's long unused brain began to function, guessing Potter's possible attitude, and tentatively asked: "Does the Dark Lord know?"

He didn't have a wand in his hand, and he needed Potter's power to leave, and if Potter had turned his back...if the brat...had turned his back...his thoughts suddenly froze.

If Porter had turned his back, who was he fighting for?

Green eyes stared at him motionlessly.

The holly wand swayed slightly, elongating and flattening the reflections of the two, just like their unpredictable thoughts.

"I was wondering...should I let you go." Harry lowered his eyes and opened his mouth slowly, but did not answer any of his questions, "Tom did what he promised, you are still alive... well. I Yes or no……"

"Okay?" Snape couldn't help but sarcastically, "Too good to have the strength to slap you now to wake up those unrealistic and stupid fantasies?"

The green eyes fluctuated slightly, but they were not as shaken as they were when he was angrily reprimanded in the past. Instead, there was a trace of insightful calmness.

"Tom is really mad at you," said Harry flatly, "and I don't like you either."

"..." Snape choked, and quickly sneered, "I don't have your poor fantasy of wanting to be liked."

"You haven't?"

Harry asked back calmly, but casually stabbed Snape's weakness.

His eyes became dark and terrifying.

Harry ignored it and went on talking to himself: "From my own point of view, it seems that there is less and less reason to let you go. So there is one thing I want to clarify: What made you choose the Order of the Phoenix? Because obviously, for you who started out as a Death Eater, there was no such thing as taboo against the Dark Arts, or justice... such things. Your prejudice against Muggles is also true, which is the exact opposite of the Order of the Phoenix's position. But after gaining Tom's rare attention, you chose the Order of the Phoenix camp that you don't agree with...Why?"

As more and more Toms came into contact with the Dark Lord's side, Harry's questions became more pointed than ever, leaving Snape silent for a while.

"Faction... not everyone values ​​it that much."

he said deadpan.

Harry recalled something, and said hesitantly: "...my mother. Is it because of... my mother? At that time, you said something——"

A trace of resentment flashed across Snape's face, and he interrupted: "Do you really remember your mother's camp, Potter? Longing for the love of killing his mother and enemy, he is really a good son Lily guarded with his life!"

Harry's gaze finally flickered, and it moved away very quickly as if in a fog.

Taking a deep breath, when he turned back again, all the emotions in his eyes disappeared.

"You said that the camp is not important, then promise me one thing: After you go out, leave the UK and never come back."

Snape was staring at him fiercely, and couldn't help but pause when he heard the words: "What?"

"I'll let you go out while Tom isn't here." Harry said, ignoring his gaze, got up from the ground, and helped him stand up neatly, "Don't get me wrong, I really still hate you so much."

The corridor on the eighth floor of Hogwarts was empty, and the special headmaster committee composed of several Death Eaters issued a ban two days in advance, and no one was allowed to set foot on the eighth floor without permission.

As the real principal of this school, he still holds the magical contract recognized by Hogwarts, and Dumbledore can return to his office through special means.

But that's all.He didn't need to try to know that there was already a net outside the office, waiting to catch the turtle.

Just his own magic arrangement in the office has been deciphered in sevens and eights, and there is no one in ten.

Only the ones left, and I am afraid that only Voldemort himself took the time to completely eliminate them.

Obviously, during his absence, Voldemort, who was busy seizing power, didn't have time to spend on such trivial matters.

Dumbledore looked at his slightly desolate office, estimated the time when his rival arrived after receiving the news, leisurely rummaged through the cabinet to find the remaining candy, found a chair that was still in good condition, and sat comfortably Peel off the candy paper.

The door burst open.

Voldemort, dressed in black, stood behind the door with a vicious aura all over his body, splitting the light into two sections with a murderous intent.

Dumbledore stood up and saw several masked Death Eaters standing behind him.

"This is really a big fight... Tom." He greeted with a smile, "I thought you guys didn't need to wear masks anymore, Lucius, Karnus, and Paris."

Voldemort's eyes fixed on his scorched right hand for the first time, and with a contemptuous arc on his lips, he stepped in.

The Death Eaters stood guard at the door with their wands in hand, one by one kept silent, and no one responded to the inappropriate greeting.

Dumbledore didn't care either, and casually stuffed the unwrapped candy back into his pocket, touched the small metal box inside with his fingers, and calmly greeted Voldemort who came in.

"Let's talk less useless nonsense, Dumbledore, after all, you won't live long."

Voldemort's tone was full of hypocritical pity, and the yew wand pointed at Dumbledore's vitals without scruple.

"You can also choose to let me send you this journey in advance, if you don't plan to catch it without a fight."

Dumbledore looked at the Death Eaters who were waiting in formation at the door. He could faintly feel some additional magic arrangements, both outside and inside the door, but these were not really important.

He shrugged. "Honestly, I'm a little surprised, Tom. By now . . . you need the submission of a dying old man so much?"

Voldemort narrowed his eyes slightly. It is not Dumbledore's style to belittle himself in front of the enemy. His eyes fell on the elder wand held tightly by the opponent. The tip of the yew wand turned slightly, and the elder wand also looked like Inadvertently change positions accordingly.

He sneered silently.

"Need? You really give yourself money, Dumbledore. It's not a 'need', it's an 'order'."

Dumbledore nodded thoughtfully, as if saying kindly: "Understood. So when do you plan to have Harry come back to school?"

The question that flew out of the sky completely stunned the Death Eaters at the door.Although not completely ignorant, the whereabouts of the savior is still a secret that few people know. Even the most core Death Eaters dare not talk about it. Now Dumbledore seems to know it well, and he is very sure that it is at the Dark Lord's door. base camp.

Voldemort didn't care about the small thoughts of his subordinates, he just thought it was ridiculous: "You think you are qualified to ask questions, Dumbledore? It's really, as always, disgustingly arrogant... Cruciatus!"

He shot without warning, and the swift and violent red light hit Dumbledore's face!

But a surprise attack alone cannot easily restrain the defensive Dumbledore.

"Oh, oh, oh." The old man brushed past the curse light as if in danger, and raised his hand holding the wand, "There is no need to be so anxious, Tom. I thought you could live a long time."

Voldemort couldn't understand Dumbledore's intentions, which made him want to fight quickly, and chased him with a new curse without saying a word.Seeing that the two strongest wizards in the world were about to fight fiercely, the Death Eaters at the door could not intervene, but they all raised their vigilance to 12 and put on a posture to prevent Dumbledore from taking the opportunity to escape.

The curse did significantly weaken Dumbledore's power.When he actually fought, he was far less powerful than before. He was forced to retreat by the crowned Voldemort, and even lost his only chance to break through under the cross-snare of several powerful distracting spells, and the elder wand was knocked into the air!

The Death Eater at the door gasped uncontrollably, and the excitement and joy implied in it couldn't be hidden at all.

Voldemort pointed at Dumbledore, taking time to glance over, suppressing their impatience.

He didn't feel right.

so easy.

Not that Dumbledore shouldn't have been beaten by him, it's just that things were going unreasonably well.

Dumbledore was not the type who knew he was going to die and ran to the enemy to give his care and head.

…If he had to say it, Harry was the only person he knew who would do it.

But now is not the time to think about these things. He intends to make one final confirmation: "Tell me, where is the Hogwarts headmaster's contract? If you cooperate, I can consider giving you a good time."

Dumbledore didn't seem to be panicked about facing a desperate situation at all. Instead, when he heard this question, he blinked slightly and glanced at him, with a subtle temptation in his blue pupils.

"How about this... How about I take the initiative to terminate the contract and hand over the naming rights to Harry, and let him decide?"

The headmaster's contract is a magical contract officially signed between Hogwarts Castle and the headmaster. It does not have the real right to appoint or remove, but many magical mysteries in Hogwarts that have been passed down for thousands of years are related to it, so it often plays some substantial role. According to the usual practice, the function of the principal's authority should be carried out at the same time as the formal appointment and dismissal.

There is not only one mode of contract person transmission about it.In addition to the incumbent's death and voluntary resignation, the contractor can also be handed over by a wizard with the right to name the heir.However, Dumbledore had a long tenure because of his high moral character. Before the nominee passed away, he simply handed over the nomination right to him, so that he had both the identity of the contractor and the nominee, and he could not be forcibly removed from the post of principal by others.

Some Death Eaters laughed a little disdainfully, obviously feeling that Dumbledore's proposal was too whimsical.

Is the Dark Lord the Savior's father?How could he agree to give that brat the right to name him?

Behind the shiny silver mask, Nott tried to exchange a knowing glance with Palis, but got a warning from the latter to keep his mind on his own business.He couldn't help but hesitated slightly, and looked at Lucius again, the latter's gray eyes were full of deep thought.

"Okay, let's lift it now."

In his office, Voldemort ordered almost without thinking.

"Paris, go get the sorting hat."

Palis led the way.The sorting hat is one of the biggest implementation items of the contract linked to the principal, which can select and indicate the object and status of the contract to a certain extent.

Dumbledore struggled to sit up again, as if there was no evil curse on him at all, dying, he studied Voldemort's expression deeply and unwaveringly.

"...you've been doing well lately, Tom."

Voldemort wrinkled his nose, giving the illusion that Dumbledore hadn't lost.

"I've been doing pretty well without you."

"It's different," said Dumbledore. "I think...you are much more peaceful now than before."

"Peace?" Voldemort smiled evilly, "The Killing Curse I will give you later is indeed quite peaceful."

"Speaking of which," Dumbledore discussed without hesitation, "you just came up and used the Cruciatus Curse, which was also very unexpected. How should I put it, I never agree with this, but it is better than the Killing Curse after all." Much more peaceful, isn't it?"

"What are you trying to say?" Voldemort lost his patience.

"I want to say...Although it's only a little bit, I'm quite happy to see you change."

"..."

Voldemort clearly expressed his disgust at this sentence.

"I should have cursed you for a few minutes first."

He said it non-jokingly, and began to act on it.

The word "Drill" just formed on the edge of the mouth, and Palis took the sorting hat at this moment.

After such an interruption, he still felt that it was more important to send Dumbledore to die first, so he asked Paris to send him in.

Not daring to delay, Palis put down the sorting hat and retreated.

Dumbledore didn't delay, broke off a piece of his glasses leg, rubbed it hard, and pulled out a small piece of paper, which was the real body of the principal's contract.

Originally, Voldemort was still on strict guard, but seeing him tear up the contract without hesitation, and put on the Sorting Hat to transfer the naming rights, after completing all this, his complexion even turned gray quickly, and he couldn't take off the hat out of breath.

"Albus... oops, you're going to die." The Sorting Hat said with a loud crack, "What's the use of being smart? See if your life is easier than those stupid elementary school students It’s been like this since the student days, why can’t you learn to be naive? I think even this Slytherin with a dark face is happier than you. Don’t look at him all the time. In fact, he is still in private Secretly playing with the stars and flames on the holiday decorations, I saw that time..."

Voldemort scorched its mouth with a Fiery Curse.

The Sorting Hat was so sore that smoke was coming from his throat.

Dumbledore looked up at him a little from under the brim of his hat, and saw an extraordinary exasperation through that unnaturally young face.

Usually he might smile slightly, but now, while pulling off the sorting hat and handing it over, while pressing the hard box in his pocket, a kind of unexplainable sadness began to spread in his heart.

"Come on, Tom, you've been waiting a long time for this day."

Dumbledore said softly.

He is now unarmed and ready to kill.

Voldemort would not let go of this opportunity, one he had been building for so long.

But only he knew that when the spell was actually launched, death hadn't decided who to go to.

Because of this thing in his pocket.

The Slytherin locket with which he had given up everything to live with for weeks.

"I only have……"

Dumbledore murmured ecstatically, very softly, as if he didn't really want to say it.

"The last sentence……"

Voldemort, however, was determined not to listen to him anymore, and locked the old man with the tip of his wand along with the spell.

"Avada—"

His current appearance is really in a trance, as if he has returned to the era when everyone was still young.

Both he and they still have an era of choice.

"...I want to say..."

"—Death."

The curse light flourishes.