The Handsome Dark Lord[Comprehensive]

Harry and Hermione meet up before Potions class.Ron huddled himself in a corner of the common room, doing his homework, and seemed determined not to ask any of them for help.

"What's wrong with him?" said Harry angrily.

They were heading down to the basement, to that dank, dank classroom of evil.

"Who knows." Hermione replied meaner than he was.

Harry choked.

They finished the topic and walked into the classroom to find Snape sitting on the podium, looking at him intently.

"...I'm sure we're not late," Harry said to Hermione, his lips barely moving.

"You're right." Hermione looked at Snape, affirming him in a low voice, "We just need to get seats quickly."

Snape's eyes were fixed on them—or perhaps Harry more accurately—as if they were two suspects on the run.

They hurriedly found a place to sit down under the pressure, and Hermione suddenly exclaimed: "Why are you here?"

Draco, who was on the innermost side, was leisurely propping one cheek: "Let me remind you, you guys sat next to me."

"We—we're just too anxious... This is where we used to sit..." Hermione stammered, and suddenly realized, "Shouldn't you be next to those two fat people?"

Draco said bitterly: "You can smear yourself all you want, Granger, but I don't think Harry should be mean by you."

Harry cut off the reaction very quickly: "Don't drag me into the water!"

Hermione stared unflinchingly at Draco, who was just casually flipping through his potions book, as if he loved learning so much.

Hermione turned to Harry and said, "We have to switch places."

"I guess you're too late." Draco gloated.The class bell rang.

"Now—all be quiet!" Snape said gloomily.

Hermione and Harry kept their mouths shut.They didn't want to be deducted points by Snape on the first day.

Draco let out an annoying muffled laugh.Hermione gave him a nasty gouged look, only to widen his smirk.

"Calm down, Hermione. Is this your first day with him?" Harry whispered.

"... every day how bad he is refreshes my perception."

Hermione's answer was mixed with an indistinct grinding sound.Harry hoped it was his hallucination.

"Then you should get to know more people," he said, "like Professor Riddle or something."

"..." Hermione shut up.

"Harry Potter!" Snape's voice hammered like a cannonball.

What should come will always come.Harry thought resentfully, and replied loudly, "I'm here!"

"Sir," Snape reminded.

"Call me Potter," said Harry reflexively.

It wasn't until the students in the classroom gasped that Harry realized what had just happened.

"In confinement, this Saturday." Snape said coldly. "The name of the savior has obviously made you more arrogant, Potter. Someone must teach you basic manners."

The words sounded familiar, and Harry couldn't help but sarcastically said, "Slytherin bastards!"

"What did you say?" Snape asked sharply.

Harry kept his mouth shut and pretended nothing had happened.

Draco actually raised his hand: "He said 'Slytherin bastard,' Professor."

Harry and Hermione turned to stare at him together, and Draco returned a fake smirk.

"Very well," Snape paced over, looking down at them condescendingly, "Gryffindor will deduct [-] points for insulting your classmates. If you say one more nonsense that shouldn't be said, Potter, you will be locked up one more time."

"...the last sentence." Harry said decisively, "I don't have a scale or medicine, because I don't know that I have to take this class."

Snape glanced coldly at his textbooks: "But you know to buy the textbooks for this class you don't teach."

"Maybe I just missed the time I spent here too much," said Harry sarcastically.

"The confinement has been extended until next week!" Snape said, "Borrow things from the classmate next to you first!"

Hermione hurriedly nodded to Harry to indicate that it was okay, and Snape said again, "It's not you, Granger."

"What? For—"

"As far as I know, only Mr. Malfoy in this classroom prepares extra medicinal materials. Unlike some students who are only good at book knowledge, he is more diligent in practice." Snape sneered, "Maybe that's why he The reason why you can join the advanced class with excellent grades without going through special channels. Some people will never understand that Slytherin has never been short of rising stars who can stand the test."

"Why don't you just clarify, what is the so-called special way?" Harry provoked angrily, "Because I'm curious too!"

Hermione grabbed his arm, but it was too late.

"Two more lockdowns!" Snape announced.

...was a disaster.

Harry moved his seat between Hermione and Draco so that he could share materials with the latter.This causes them to have to be tied together when grouping.

Neither he nor Hermione could have dreamed that they would one day form a practice group with Malfoy - not their good friend Ron - that would have to work together for a long time.

"Lucky, Harry, you can now have the help of two 'excellent' students in your department," Draco said.

Harry glanced at him coldly: "I thought you were asking for peace."

"I am." Draco handed him a silver knife and some valerian, "So, here."

Harry took the things and started cleaning them.

"What were you thinking, trying to make peace, but denouncing me to Snape?"

"What do you think I am, Potter?" Draco said curtly. "You're insulting all of Slytherin, I hear you. Don't think that one will put up with that, you better hope he doesn't I read it in my head."

"...he won't," said Harry.

"what?"

"He's not going to read it out of your head," Harry said firmly.

Because he would read it straight from his head.

After class, they went to the cafeteria to eat.Harry thought back to his conversation with Dumbledore at noon, the two memories in the Pensieve, and soon almost forgot the episode in Potions class - he was so used to his bad experience in that class.

He didn't see Voldemort at the staff table, nor Dumbledore.Looking back, there was no Ron on the Gryffindor long table.He glanced at the indifferent Hermione across the way, and tactfully swallowed this discovery with pumpkin porridge.

After eating, they saw Ron in the corner of the common room.This time Harry ignored Hermione, walked over and placed a patty in front of him.

Ron looked up from the "Magic and Order" and frowned.

"what?"

"Are you hungry?" Harry asked, "Brought for you."

"...I don't have to take potions class." Ron said nonchalantly, "so I took it beforehand."

"Oh." Harry took back the meatloaf, "That's fine."

He sat down across from Ron, took out his Potions homework and started writing.

Only then did Hermione come over and push their things away to make room for herself to do her homework.

As if writing homework on the same desk is an irresistible iron rule, even if the cold war reaches freezing point, the three of them will implement it by default.

Harry wanted to hurry up and finish his Potions homework. The first one or two lessons were the only time he could do it. When the course gradually deepened, he would fall into the abyss of rushing homework, otherwise he would only get a pass.

But in fact, he couldn't get the memory of what he saw at noon out of his mind at all.

The flower that emerged from the hand of young Voldemort, the quiet seduction of that cold but outstanding face, and that superficial kiss of the hand.

Harry thought he could pay more attention to other things, such as Dumbledore's attitude, Voldemort's purpose, what agreement they reached... But now he just wants to rush into the dormitory, pull out his phone and blow up the bastard's phone.

"... I've had enough." Harry stood up suddenly, startling the two friends.

Harry didn't explain, just closed the book and left.

Hermione and Ron stared blankly at him blowing towards the dormitory in a gust of wind, looking at each other instinctively.The moment their eyes met, they reacted and turned their heads at the same time as if they were electrocuted.

Hermione continued to copy the potion formula without saying a word, and Ron stared at the textbook in rapt attention.The atmosphere returned to freezing point in a second.

Harry returned to the dormitory, but there was no message on the phone.

He thought Voldemort would at least ask him about the outcome of his conversation with Dumbledore.

After a little consideration, he still sent a text message first, in case he was in front of a professor.

[What are you doing? ]

It took him a while to get a reply.

[Work. ]

…Harry reminded himself that he would not have to ask such fixed-answer questions in the future.

[Hogwarts does not have classes at night, workaholics. ] he replied.

Voldemort: [Sorry, that's not my only job. ]

Harry's text message was edited and deleted several times, but he still couldn't help asking: [Are... are you killing people? ]

No reply there.Harry panicked.

No!He pressed the call button and shouted in his heart, this is not true!

His phone was blocked.Harry hit again and was choked again.Three times later, Harry jumped out of bed in a rage and rushed to the Defense Against the Dark Arts office.

"Professor V-Tang, Riddle!" he slammed on the door with his tongue tied. "Open the door!"

No one opened the door, but the portrait not far away asked, "Are you looking for Tom?"

Harry turned to see a woman with a fan covering her mouth looking at him curiously.

What was she called just now—Tom?Harry walked over suspiciously.

"I'm looking for Professor Riddle," he repeated. "Do you know where he went?"

"Why are you looking for him?" Mrs. Fan leaned down from the painting and approached him. "Dumbledore doesn't want you to mess with Tom."

"But I have to make sure he's not killing people or something—you call him Tom?"

Mrs. Fan straightened up and covered her cheeks with her fan: "I heard Ravenclaw students say that's his name, isn't it?"

Harry breathed a sigh of relief, "...I don't know, maybe it's not accurate. I remember it was called Jack, Mark or something."

"is it?"

Voldemort's voice suddenly sounded behind him.

Harry turned sharply to see him approaching him with a half-smile.

"Your naming level is a disaster."

Harry noticed that there was no blood on him - though Kedavras don't bleed -

"What brings you here, Golden Boy?" asked Voldemort.

Harry was stunned for a moment, remembering that he said that the portraits were all Dumbledore's eyeliner, and suddenly he seemed to be pointed at by an invisible needle, feeling uncomfortable and nervous.

But he couldn't do anything, and the scar burned.He pressed his forehead against the wall, more dizzy than the pain.

Voldemort walked up to him, lowered his head and lifted his chin, and asked softly, "Where is your magic ribbon?"

The scar hurt even more, and Harry gripped his wrist uncomfortably, not sure what he was up to.

— fainted, Harry.

Voldemort said through the scar.

Before Harry could close his eyes, he heard a shrill female voice.

"—Riddle—Professor! What are you doing—?!!"

It was the first time he heard Professor McGonagall's distorted voice, and he wanted to open his eyes and say hello to her——

Then he was literally knocked out by Voldemort.