The Handsome Dark Lord[Comprehensive]

For a long time, the living room was eerily silent.

The neon lights of the city flicker outside the floor-to-ceiling windows.

"Are you... going to kill me?" Harry asked.

He vaguely felt that what he wanted to know was something more secret.But I don't know where to start.

Those familiar and unfamiliar bright red eyes stared at him.

"What do you think, Harry?" Voldemort asked softly.

Harry lowered his head and stared at the wand in his hand. It was so prestigious that blood poured through his skin, and he trembled slightly.

"Professor Dumbledore told me about the prophecy."

He whispered that the tingling of the scar continued.

"The person who was born at the end of July... who can defeat the Dark Lord... said the professor, you think it's me."

With those last words, something in Harry's heart dropped completely.

His eyes rested tenaciously on the beautiful hands that held his holly wand lightly, with the tip angled toward the ceiling.

"Perhaps he should also tell you that I can easily read your mind if I want to," said Voldemort. "Haven't you learned Occlumency?"

For some reason, such a question strangely reassured Harry, his answers became much smoother, and his gaze finally met his bright red eyes.

"That's no use to you, is it?" said Harry, "you've read my mind out of my mind for so long, haven't you? And you still do. Never mind, you can read all you want, the professor is wise indeed --I do not know anything."

He ignored the tightness and ache in his chest when he said these words, thinking that the brain that refuses to think is also a bit of a benefit.

Voldemort chuckled and began to walk slowly around him.

"Wrong, Harry. You know my most vital secret, the Horcruxes."

That's what Dumbledore found out.

Harry thought silently.

Just told him the truth tonight...

"Do you think Dumbledore is telling the truth?" Voldemort asked.

Harry raised one eyebrow, wary for the first time.

"If not entirely, I totally understand."

"Oh," said Voldemort sarcastically, "I prefer your empathy elsewhere."

Harry felt an inexplicable prick in his heart.

"The prophecy he told you is only half," said Voldemort, "because I only had that half. I now know the whole."

Harry looked at him uncertainly, but Voldemort's eyes moved to the French windows.

The stars outside the window are vast and grand, just like floating waves on the sea.

"Born at the end of the seventh month... the Dark Lord marked him as his arch-rival, but he possessed powers the Dark Lord did not understand...one must die at the hand of the other, for both cannot live, only one Survive... the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born at the end of the seventh month..."

Voldemort's voice was steady, but when he wasn't looking at Harry, he was cold and distant.

Harry's throat tightened slightly. "Both...can't both be alive...?"

"One must die at the hand of the other," Voldemort added quietly. "Only one survives. That's the part Dumbledore doesn't want me to know."

"Professor... didn't say the prophecy and the second half..." Harry retorted with difficulty.But he soon realized that this argument was far from enough.Voldemort didn't even comment on that.

He clenched his fist slightly, and said embarrassingly, "You just want to... tease me..."

Voldemort turned his head to look at him, and suddenly smiled lowly.

"What else, Harry? How about finishing the accusation in your heart at once?"

Harry's scar swelled slightly.This pain is really negligible.

Compared with his throbbing heart.

"...Why." He said repressedly, "The prophecy is really what you said, why didn't you kill me? Why did you pretend to be gentle with me—in front of me? Pretend—you care? Do you really of—is there such a thing?"

After just a few words, he was already panting slightly.

Voldemort listened quietly, and when he had come to an end and looked intently, he asked softly, "That thing—what is it?"

Harry looked at him silently, but his breathing became heavy.

Voldemort waited patiently for him.

That thing... that word... suddenly becomes ridiculous.

Harry couldn't speak.

"...you can read my mind," he said.

"I don't have that plan now." Voldemort said flatly.

Harry glared at him angrily, the pretty face still as motionless as a mask.Finally he looked away, staring at the pattern of marble on the floor.

"James... did you kill it?"

"……no."

Voldemort took a moment to answer.

Harry found himself hopelessly relieved.The brain works with great reluctance, and more details emerge.

"The dementors of Hogsmeade—"

"No." Voldemort said coldly. "This is ridiculous, Harry. I don't intend to accept your questioning one by one. This is the last one."

Harry fell silent.

"Well, since that's what you want..." Voldemort turned slowly, "I'll give you one chance: a fair duel. If you can wrest your wand back from me, I'll answer one more question for you. Now we're all armed with wands we're not familiar with—"

Harry's fingers holding the yew wand twitched.

"—This obviously affects a powerful wizard like me more than you." Voldemort slightly bent the holly wand in his hand, as if testing its flexibility, "but it still suits me. So I allow you to take the first shot, seven times."

Harry's eyelids twitched, unable to believe what he was hearing.

Voldemort smiled wickedly enough at him.

"Pretty fair, isn't it?"

Harry felt his blood start to surge up, and the hand holding the yew wand was slightly sweating.

"What the hell are you trying to do..."

"You have to win to ask questions."

Harry stared at him, raising his wand slowly.

Voldemort stretched out his hands leisurely.

"--stop dead legs," Harry read tentatively.

The spell went, but the yew wand was longer than he was used to, and the spell bounced off the ground prematurely.

Harry was more shocked than embarrassed. "Aren't you hiding?"

Voldemort glanced down at the floor where the spell hit, and said casually, "It's not necessary."

This angered Harry, who angrily cast two impediment spells in succession, but Voldemort dodged it with one step.

"If you only have this kind of innocuous attack, it won't matter how many times you are given a chance." Voldemort said pointedly, "Show off your aura of destroying Roald House, Harry?"

The fire from that night replayed in Harry's mind.

--Are you OK?

—Sorry, I'll tell you later... the whole truth.

—You hurt Tom...

Harry was furious for a moment.

The cherishment and guilt of the past have become a funny farce.

His worry, concern and maintenance day and night are both ridiculous and pathetic.

He introduced his most important friend to his murderous enemy, and gave the relics of his parents to the murderer who killed them——

"Is it fun?" Harry asked with red eyes, "Watching me protect you without knowing it? Are you dying laughing?"

he growled hoarsely.

"Fire blazing—"

The living room was on fire again.

Voldemort walked around the flames, slowly pulling away from Harry.

But Harry began to press on, and the scene in front of him seemed to return to that thrilling night——

Fake, all the thrills and crises are fake.

There is nothing thrilling, nothing life-or-death, and the mere fugitives from Azkaban are nothing compared to the Dark Lord.

Only he protects the big devil who released the escaped criminals like a fool.

"Fractured!"

Harry shouted.

The marble floor was cracked.

"Fractured!"

The spell cracked the wall from the left, stronger than last time.

"Fractured!"

The magic spell completely shattered the TV set from the right, the sizzle current flashed a few times, and a line of blue smoke came out.

The last chance ran out, and Voldemort escaped all spells perfectly.

Harry gasped violently, knowing that he was about to face a real life-and-death situation.

The flame seemed to have burned into his blood, scorching his soul.

His heart curled up in this searing, and there was a small, weak whine in it.

Harry told himself to ignore it.

He gritted his teeth, restraining himself from hesitating, and cast a spell that poured anger into his body.

"Smashed to pieces!"

He stared intently at Voldemort, the fire lighting up where he stood.

Usually, the pace of battle between wizards is very fast, and clever wizards often make accurate predictions before the magic is formed, and move their positions first.Harry couldn't do it himself, but after just a few spells, he had fully seen Voldemort's ability.

However, he never expected that when the time came for the real duel, Voldemort did not move, not even raising his wand.

Do not--

His eyes were wide open, and the yew wand was pulled back in vain, as if that would draw the spell back.

no--

Something cracked and cracked.

Harry's heart stopped for a moment.

The magic hit the air in front of Voldemort, and an invisible barrier shattered.

The Dark Lord stood intact behind his own defensive magic, looking inquiringly at the Saviour.

Breathing heavily, Harry seemed to have exhausted all the strength in his body, and suddenly fell to his knees, propped on his hands, and stared at the yew wand distractedly.

No one spoke for a long time.

The flames became quieter, and the invisible magic was slowly being suppressed.

Voldemort walked towards Harry step by step, but the Savior didn't respond.

Until the footsteps stopped beside him, Harry turned his head slowly and saw Muggle trousers and leather shoes.

Voldemort crouched down, his deep features came into Harry's field of vision, and his bright red eyes reflected the silent flame.

Harry's Adam's apple twitched, but he didn't speak.

Neither did Voldemort.

They stared at each other, silent thoughts running.

Finally, Harry asked hoarsely, "What do you want?"

"You didn't win," said Voldemort softly, "but...that question doesn't need an answer."

His hand reached out, giving Harry enough time to dodge.But Harry straightened his upper body slightly following the strength of that hand, and greeted a devastating kiss.