[HP] Crack

The two kissed almost savagely, exchanging each other's breath.Harry felt as if he had been torn into countless pieces and sucked into a black hole to be devoured.The tide surged through his body like electricity, he trembled uncontrollably, it was so crazy, he felt fear in his heart, but he was eager to know where he would take him.

He clings to everything he can like a drowning man, yelling, his chest heaving violently, his legs writhing, slapping the non-existent water.He was suffocated by the strong pressure, and he whimpered, breathing the air above the water in the cracks.The man turned him over and pressed him into the cold, ashen night.

He was thrown into the deep sea, and at first he could only feel strong shock and pain, and the tense body intensified the torture.After a long break-in period, the waves finally washed up on the beach, and he lost the ability to respond, and fell to the ground to be manipulated by him.The pain was smoothed out of his weak body, and another completely different feeling rose up, causing his toes to curl up slightly.His cheeks flushed, he closed his eyes, and forced himself to change his position to make it easier for him.

Something in the depths of the soul is slowly sticking, surging, and undergoing a slow fusion.When he was about to back away, he hugged his neck tightly, letting him keep all of him in his body.Harry was exhausted, his limbs were too heavy to lift, and his body was covered with bruises from nowhere.He propped himself up slowly, raised his head and kissed his face, choked on the dust in the air, buried himself down again, and swallowed it.

"Harry..." The man's sharp and thin fingers grabbed his hair and pressed it in hard. He could hardly breathe, but he still refused to stop.He gasped excitedly, murmured unconsciously, and was then pressed against the wall and treated mercilessly.

Harry didn't know how long they tossed, from night to day, from day to night, their bodies were covered with mud, and their souls were washed by the moonlight over and over again.Harry finally passed out from exhaustion, and when he woke up in the morning, he found himself lying on a clean bed, with gray light folding and falling on the sheets.

When he moved slightly, his arms and shoulders were almost cramped with pain.The memory of last night flooded into his mind, he turned his head, the person hugging him seemed to wake up, his arms tightened a bit.

Harry glanced at his watch with difficulty. It was three in the morning.What night at three o'clock in the morning?He was too lazy to tell the difference, day and night could not be distinguished in the dungeon.He couldn't move, so he had to speak out, but when he spoke, he was startled by his extremely hoarse voice: "Tom."

The arm across the waist moved an inch, followed by the rustling of the quilt, and the person behind turned over and stared at him.Harry swallowed, somehow feeling like he was going to be swallowed in one gulp.

"Can't sleep?" The man spoke first, looking at him with his chin lazily propped up, while stroking his slightly bearded chin with the other hand.

"Uh, how long have I been asleep?"

"Not for a long time." He caressed his neck casually, even touching his sensitive Adam's apple.The gesture was so provocative that Harry gasped.

"How long have we been doing this?" Harry hesitated for a long time, and asked with some embarrassment.Voldemort stopped.

"You want to know?"

"Forget it, I still—"

"You came out five times. You can count."

Harry was stunned for a second, then realized instantly that his neck was red all of a sudden.

"I don't fucking want to know that!"

"Really?" Voldemort didn't care.Harry turned around, and the sheet slid down, revealing clear marks all over his body.His face was blushing, and he couldn't help but suspect that he didn't clean it up on purpose.

"Your expression is very cute." The man said slowly, "Let me see for myself next time, Harry."

Harry was too busy covering himself with the quilt to pay attention to him.He found that the marks even appeared in some incredible corners, such as between the fingers of his right hand, which made his back tingle.

Harry turned his head to look at him, paused for a while, and suddenly realized something, reached out and touched his cheek up and down: "Are you—already?"

"Harry!" the man warned.

Without him answering, Harry already sensed that something was wrong.His consciousness is connected to another soul, he can feel his emotions, his every move, especially when he touches himself, this feeling is doubled.He seems to have regained the ability to read his thoughts, but it's not the same as before.

In the past, he could only receive information passively, but now he can choose to listen or not to listen.And he believes it works both ways—he can know how he feels, too.But what is going on?

Harry gripped the sheets unconsciously, not knowing whether to be happy or worried.This time he couldn't get rid of this connection so easily. They were tied together, even closer than twins.

"You want to get rid of?" A cold voice came from behind, and Harry moved uneasily.

"Uh, I'm not sure if this is a good thing for us." He thought for a while, and said, "Your soul is broken, and it can only be repaired by bonding my soul with yours with magic. But this kind of We don't know what the consequences of fixing it are, do we? I think there must be more than - er - the change that's showing up now."

"Soul sharing is another way to extend lifespan, but I can't say it's a good one."

"I don't care about that, Tom, I want to discuss another matter with you," said Harry, turning around with difficulty. "I want to say—don't tell me that you don't know why this happened, you know why you suddenly collapsed. You are much better at this research than I am."

He stared at him seriously, the latter's expression was very indifferent, and he didn't answer.

"You were originally a soul piece with the smallest size that was split, and you can no longer split it. But you killed someone just now, Tom, and you caused yourself to split twice. Have you ever seen this special case in the book? Your soul is too unstable, you killed so many people - you didn't care about it before, did you? You thought there was no retribution for killing, and now retribution is coming-"

"To shut up!"

"Stop killing people, Tom!" Harry yelled, grabbing his arm and looking at him imploringly. "Don't you realize how much you've lost yourself by hurting people? Do you gain more than you lose?"

He took a breath and continued: "Do you still remember when your soul was not broken? I believe that you were much stronger then than now...not referring to the power of magic, but the integrity of a person. You care so little for your soul, Tom, but I want you to know that everything you do affects you, for good and for ill."

His eyes were a little red, and he looked straight at him, pursing his lips slightly.He could feel the shock and anger surging inside Voldemort, his hands trembling slightly, and Harry stroked them, trying to calm them down.

"I—I care about you, Tom, and you know I can't come back then. You can't do anything to me if I don't come back. I don't say this for myself—well, Maybe a little, but I really—I really hope you get better." Harry said with difficulty, clenching his fingers.

This is not the first time he has done this, put his heart in his hands and let him dispose of it.He knew the consequences of doing so, but he couldn't help it.It was his only weapon, and the only thing that could move him—maybe, he often suspected that Voldemort had no heart at all, and he could turn his face faster than a book.It took a lot of courage to live with such a person, and if it weren't for the special circumstances, Harry probably wouldn't have tried it.He has no way out.