[HP] Crack

He smelled a cold breath.It is not a fragrance, it can only make people feel cold, but it is not uncomfortable, but very peaceful.He took a deep breath, attached to it, and realized very clearly that he was going to leave it soon.

A slender hand covered his hair and grabbed it vigorously, just like in a dream.The man's other hand wrapped around his waist from behind, pulling him forcefully into his arms.

"... maybe I'm in the wrong place," he said slowly after a while, brushing his hair once and for all, "I shouldn't have chosen you, Harry...you always surprise me. "

"Well, I didn't mean to surprise you—"

"I know." He interrupted briefly, "I can tell the truth from the fake."

He knew what he was thinking without trying to sense it, and it was no problem for him to guess what Harry was thinking.What's more, the other party didn't intend to hide it at all. He tried his best to express his love to him, giving without reservation, and he knew that he had won-he controlled the boy, but he was also controlled by him at the same time.Danger always goes both ways... This is a deep trap, he was negligent, it's as simple as that...

Seemingly uncomfortable in the side-sitting position, Harry turned and sat astride his lap, watching him intently.There seemed to be some kind of magic in his eyes, which attracted him to sink in deeply, and his hands on his waist tightened a little.

But paying does not mean that there will be returns.Before doing any of these things, he should have anticipated a crushing defeat.

"They'll be here soon, Harry... then you'll understand how little words can express," he said slowly, looking at the boy in front of him, pushing the hem of his nightgown to his waist , "You'll know what a soul rests on... the impulse contained in a vow... how quickly it twists before the real... real power."

"It's not impulsive," said Harry.Voldemort leaned forward, and he lay on his back on the bed, his robes pulled up to his chest.He stroked his left chest without speaking, as if testing a vague future.Harry gasped, a little tired.

He did feel powerless.He knew what he meant, but he must make everything so clear that he would not leave any illusions.Harry closed his eyes, trying to picture his friends' faces in his mind.Ron... Hermione... Ginny... Was the six years they had spent with him worth the few months with Voldemort?Can he let him give up on himself if he can't beat all the comfort and companionship and all the support? ...What he said was not a lie, he loved him, but also hated him, this kind of hatred became contradictory and complicated because of the existence of love and sex, and the impure hatred even made him feel a little shameful.If they just stood in the two worlds and talked to each other, and only used hatred to communicate with each other, maybe everything would be simpler... But when they talked on an equal and peaceful level like this, he suddenly realized that he would never forget him.

Voldemort watched him for a moment, then pulled back his nightgown, picked him up and put him next to him under the covers.He turned off the light and lay down.Harry looked sideways at him and said suddenly:

"Tom."

"I won't let you sleep anywhere else."

"Well, I didn't mean to say that. I meant to say, this is the last time."

The man didn't answer.Loneliness is as huge as a mountain.

The Burrow.

Ron sat on the sofa and flipped through the "Daily Prophet" for the past few days. The latest one was torn because he flipped through it too quickly, and was thrown aside. The person who was torn in half on the paper was still weird waved at him.

Hermione came out of the kitchen, holding two glasses of milk in her hands, and placed one on the coffee table in front of him.Ron was still frowning and wrestling with a report, and she sat down across from him and asked, "What are you looking at, Ron?"

"Look at this." Without looking up, Ron stuffed the newspaper in his hand to her, and pointed to a text box the size of a tofu cube in the upper right corner. "Does it mean that Harry has-has-"

He waved his hands, his face gradually flushed, as if he didn't know how to express his thoughts.

Hermione took it over and took a closer look. It was a report about a certain wizard who insulted Death Eaters and was arrested and imprisoned. It was not long, and it didn't seem to have anything to do with Harry at all.She looked confusedly at Ron, who was staring at her nervously, lips pursed.

"Well—I don't see a problem with that," she said honestly.

"Don't you think someone in jail has a name like Harry?" said Ron. "Look, Harry Lockett, it's only a little bit off, don't you think—"

Before he could finish speaking, Hermione sighed and closed the newspaper.

"We have discussed Ron many times. If the mysterious man really killed Harry, I believe he will publicize the news instead of hiding it in a corner."

"But it's been days! No news at all, it's impossible - I don't think -" he stammered, and Hermione handed him the milk, which he automatically took a sip of.

"It tastes good," Ron commented, looking slowly at Hermione, his eyes suddenly straightened.

"Wait a minute, why are you here?"

"Why can't I be here?"

"Lupine said you should get some rest, Hermione! Did you make the milk?"

"Hey, I just got up and moved around—"

"No, you can't go into the kitchen, go back to your room, your injury hasn't healed yet!" He stopped here, and Hermione turned her right face to him.The horrible scars on her face were completely invisible, only a small white mark remained on her forehead.

"I was almost fine yesterday. The medicine prescribed by Professor Lupine is very effective, and I still have some left." She said happily.Ron's brows still did not loosen.

"But you've got so many injuries, Hermione, that Lupine said you'd better rest—"

"Those injuries are not serious. I have been resting for several days." Hermione said, pondered for a few seconds, then raised her head to look at him, "Actually, I want to go tonight too."

"What? - No, I won't agree!" Ron was stunned for a second, then realized what she was referring to, and jumped up from the sofa.

"I want to save Harry too, Ron—"

"I can't let you take that risk!—do you know what I felt the other day when I saw you hurt, Hermione?" Ron stared at her like a three-eyed troll. "We've already The arrangements are made, you just need to stay here and wait for our news!"

"Stay here? Stay here? How can you say such a thing?" Hermione also stood up, clasping her hands, "did we let you back out when you were hurt? You think I stay here alone and worry about getting hurt?" I'm afraid, I don't know if you succeeded or failed, if anyone was hurt, and I don't know what happened to Harry... Do you think I will feel better?"

Ron took a step back without answering.He will never forget that doomsday day, the fermenting despair soaked in the dank and dark dungeon.He squatted down beside the dusty and blood-stained silhouette, and the cold moonlight slanted in, falling on the sunken corners of the girl's eyes.So terrified, he doesn't even know how he got home.All organs ceased to function, leaving only the vocal cords vibrating hoarsely.Hermione, Hermione, it yelled, it wasn't his voice, Hermione, Hermione—he sat by her bed all night, and Ginny urged him to go back, but he didn't respond.

"If it was Harry who was hurt... what would you do?" he asked her.Ginny was silent for a while, then turned and left.

"Let me go with you to save Harry too, Ron. He's our friend, everyone's hope, and I can't stay here and wait for news of him," Hermione begged.Ron came back to his senses, twisted his neck stiffly, and didn't answer right away.

"I'll ask Professor Lupine," he said at last.