The Handsome Dark Lord[Comprehensive]

Harry was completely unable to stand when he was scooped up, the last outburst draining his strength.

Voldemort laughed angrily, and began to pick at his underwear.

"I can't do..."

Harry groaned on his shoulder, fingering the buttons on the back of his robe idly, wondering why there were buttons there.

"Then don't provoke me."

Voldemort gave him a rude spank, and Harry let go.

"Take off your clothes and wash them well. I'll go find a hangover potion. I'll recover after drinking it and sleeping."

"Hmm..." Harry replied weakly.

Although Voldemort was hardly ever drunk, hangover potion was still a common medicine for wizards.He still had the only bottle left, or Snape wouldn't be able to sleep tonight.

Harry played with bubbles in the bathhouse for a while, and was really tired. He found a higher step and sat down, leaning against the pool, and fell asleep unconsciously.

This is what Voldemort saw when he returned with the hangover potion.

He walked over without a sound, lifting Harry's head lightly to make sure he was indeed asleep.A strange trouble arose in my heart.

Not really annoying, but it's annoyingly lingering—

He had never seen Harry cry before.

Not just because of Harry, but because of the crying itself, which he had never seen before.

He has seen a lot of painful and cowardly crying, desperate hysteria, and even heartbroken crying.

But I've never seen such...maybe it's soft, lingering...and unrelenting tears.

Harry had no reason to cry.

Especially when kissing him, he could feel Harry's pleasure from lips to soul.

But those tears are the truth.

He looked at the sleeping face in his hands.The normally disheveled hair was hanging down wetly, making Harry look much more docile.He was in some distress, his brows were furrowed, and his eyelashes trembled slightly.

Voldemort watched for a while, took a sip of the hangover potion, leaned over and pried open his lips and teeth, and forced it down.

It would take a while for the medicine to take effect, so he carried Harry out of the bath, roughly wrapped him in a towel, and moved him to the bed in the bedroom.

It's incredible when it's done.He didn't know he could get to this point...

He looked back at Harry again.His black hair was still wet and messy, and his body was covered in a towel. He was a little stronger than a few months ago, and his stature had grown a lot, only his face was still very green.

He looked at it for a longer time, and when he recovered, he looked away even more irritably.

Finally he took out his wand and cast a Drying Charm behind him, pulled the towel away, pulled the quilt over the Messiah's disturbed body, and left the bedroom.

Harry slept soundly, and woke up already lying on the comfortable and soft quilt.

He shook his head for a while, and found that his head was not hangover-like.He touched his side again, but there was no one.

But there was a light through the crack of the door.

Harry groped around and couldn't find his clothes, nor his glasses, not even his shoes, let alone his wand and coat.

He mulled over the possibility of yelling at Voldemort on the bed to get his clothes and live on... if it was him, it was pretty high.

But he felt that he didn't want to make him angry now, so An An wrapped himself in a towel and got out of bed.

"Where are my clothes?" He poked his head out from behind the door and came out after confirming that there were no outsiders. "There are also glasses and a magic wand."

Voldemort sat on the desk and flipped through the documents at a glance, and pointed to the bathroom without raising his head.

"Still inside."

Harry went in and rummaged through it, "...where's my underwear?"

He rushed out, wearing only his spectacles, coat and wand in hand.

"It's all alcohol, I threw it away." Voldemort wrote lightly.

"What?!" Harry's eyes widened, "Then what should I wear?"

Voldemort raised his eyes, and the eyes flicked quickly past him, to the bedroom.

"I have it in my closet. You can choose to wear the Shrinking Charm or not."

Harry stared at him suspiciously for a moment, then walked back to the bedroom.I don't know if it's an illusion, but Voldemort's attitude seems to be much worse than when he was drunk.

Could it be that he was drinking too much?

Harry couldn't remember exactly what happened.But I still remember the feeling at that time.

Relax and be happy.Simply wonderful.

The wardrobe in Voldemort's bedroom turned out to be the same style as the one in the Muggle apartment. It was a large walk-in cloakroom, with double rows of hangers on both sides, and a floor-to-ceiling mirror on the entire wall at the end.

It's a pity that there is such a luxurious wardrobe for nothing, but the clothes inside are horribly monotonous.The one in the Muggle apartment was either a shirt or a suit, and even Ron had more variety.

Fortunately, this room in Hogwarts was a little more normal. Harry saw dark green dress robes and a silver-piped coat inlaid with dark red gemstones, although most of them were still almost black and monotonous.

Harry tried unsuccessfully to find a more comfortable T-shirt.He suspected that there were only shirts here, the most prim and bland kind.

He sighed, and casually took an identical one and put it on.

After all the tossing and tossing, when he returned to the outer hall, Voldemort still maintained his previous posture, flipping through the documents motionlessly.

Harry glanced at the hanging clock, 05:30.

"...Have you been up all this time?" He walked over.

"Nothing. I can go without sleep for a week if I want to," said Voldemort.

Harry frowned: "You're angry."

"Does it look like it?" Voldemort asked noncommittally, his eyes still on the paper.

"I was drunk... what did I do?" Harry asked uncertainly. "You gave me a hangover potion, didn't you? And I got out of the shower."

"Is there a third person in this room?"

Now Harry was sure, this guy was deliberately provoking trouble.

The more this kind of time, the more you can't get angry.Harry told himself...

"If you want to drive me away, just say so!"

He still couldn't hold back, and roared angrily.

"I just wanted to say thank you!"

Voldemort looked up, and Harry was staring at him, eyes surprisingly bright with anger.

As pretty as at a dinner party...

"You're welcome." He said, maintaining his irritating slowness, "please."

Harry's eyes widened in disbelief, showing a hint of injury, but he didn't let it rest on his face, and turned away quickly.

"Remember to wear the invisibility cloak." Voldemort exhorted.

Harry stopped in front of the door, looking like he was about to turn around and challenge him to a duel.But he held back, took out the invisibility cloak and put it on, and disappeared from his sight.

It wasn't until the door was slammed shut that he looked away, thinking that he was the No.1 who dared to slam his door.

...Maybe there will be more No.1s in the future.