[HP] Crack

He leaned down and pressed his mouth to his wound.Pain made his sense of touch extra sensitive, and any slight movement could cause him to tremble.Harry stared at him in astonishment, feeling him sucking the venom from his wound, lips and teeth pressing against his skin, the sensation worse than a needle prick.He trembled and clenched his fists involuntarily.

"Relax, Potter."

"Have you — do you have a cut in your mouth?" Harry didn't know why he was asking such a question, and he hoped he hadn't heard.

However, things went contrary to expectations, the man raised his eyebrows, tilted his head and spit out the venom in his mouth, and said coldly, "Do you want to check it again?"

"No." Harry shut his mouth immediately, he felt his wound burning now, "well, I didn't expect you to know this knowledge." He was referring to self-help in the wild.

"I didn't expect you to know," he said sarcastically.In fact he didn't know he remembered this until now, and it even annoyed him a little to think about its origin.The loss of magic was an accident, it was his mistake, otherwise he could have cured him in a second...but the only thing that can be used now is this Muggle method that he despises, although it can only solve the urgent need.

A gust of cold wind blew into the open skirt, and half of Harry's body was numb from the cold.He looked at Draco next to him again, and found that he had closed his eyes and seemed to be unconscious.

"Wait a minute, don't you care about your Death Eaters?" he asked aloud, pushing his hand away. "He gave his arm for you, Tom Riddle!"

"What did you call me?"

Harry ignored him, and pulled Draco's cold body carefully sideways.His robes were stained with blood, leaving a sticky black patch on his hands.

"Can't you take the arm?" He remembered Peter Pettigrew's silver arm at that time, and raised his head to meet Voldemort's cold eyes. "If you leave him alone, he will die!"

His eyes still had no warmth, and he stood up and looked down at Harry.Draco's head fell limply on his chest, and Harry tried to pick him up, but he weighed more than he'd imagined.

"Help!" He looked at him anxiously, holding his armpits with both hands and struggling to stand up.Only then did Voldemort move, and slowly bent down to take Draco.Harry rearranged his clothes indiscriminately, zipped it up, and reached into his pocket to find his wand. An unfamiliar wand was stuffed into his hand.

He looked up at him, then at the wand in his hand.

"Well, it's not my wand."

"I know." Voldemort seemed a little impatient, turning his head away from him.Harry wanted to argue with him, but gave up after seeing Draco's pale face, and asked, "Well, since you won't give him a new arm, let's go to St. Mungo's." Hospital?"

"Compound medicine."

"Oh, you're right," Harry took out a small bottle that Hermione had given him earlier from his pocket, and unscrewed the cap, "So you agreed?"

Voldemort snorted coldly, but did not answer.Harry tilted his head back and took a sip of the cement-like liquid in the bottle, barely swallowing it, and put the bottle away.The tidy clothes were stretched again, and he quickly turned back into the middle-aged Muggle, and stepped forward to hold Voldemort's hand.His hands were broad and very cold, as if they were three points colder than this dark winter night.

Harry swallowed, and didn't think about it anymore, the space distortion enveloped them, and they spun around in place.

His hands are very warm.

Although on the surface it looked like a Muggle's hand, he felt the familiar warmth, like the temperature that almost destroyed him that he could touch for countless days and nights soaked in his body.

He knew very well that without the dementor that day, he would never wake up, and would drown in this soft sea.Death gave birth to him, and he was awakened again by the imminent death.The ignorant baby had already grown up. He had a dream for 16 years, but found that the world had left him behind.

Voldemort stood in the empty corridor outside the ward, coldly looking at the situation inside through the glass on the door.

This corridor was not empty at first, there were many therapists in dark green robes walking around, and some family members of the patients who came to take care of them came and went with lunch boxes and water bottles, but when he and Harry appeared here , all disappear.The family members hid in the ward, and the therapist fled away, leaving only Draco's attending physician shivering in the corner with a terrified face, holding his notebook.

"Cure him." He didn't want to say more, Harry next to him glanced at him, walked up to comfort the therapist in a low voice, and only then managed to calm down his emotions.

The therapist used a few spells to help Draco stop the bleeding, observed his arm for a while, and said to Harry, "He - he needs to stay here for about three days to grow a new arm."

"Will there be any aftereffects?" Harry asked.

"No, he didn't delay too long..." the therapist finally said without stammering, he glanced at Draco, and tactfully expressed his willingness to help Draco with treatment alone.Harry tugged at Voldemort's sleeve, signaling him to leave the ward.

"We're going to stay here for three days."

"us?"

Harry froze, let go of his hand and took a step back.He was almost angry.

"He was hurt like this for you, so you treat him like this?" He growled, "If that's how you treat your men, no wonder they won't come to you!"

"He's not 'my' man."

"He helped you, you madman!"

"No Death Eater deserves Lord Voldemort's three days for him," he whispered, in stark contrast to Harry's excitement. "That's the end of the subject."

Harry took a deep breath and shook his head, trying to suppress his anger.He should have thought that was who he was.

"Well, I thought—"

"Why do you think?"

"Don't interrupt me, I thought your conscience found out—you don't have that kind of thing at all, so why did you help me suck out the snake venom?" Harry turned his head and stared at him. He still finds that scene unbelievable when he thinks about it now. Like in a dream, Voldemort would save his sworn enemy—what's wrong with that?

They stared at each other for a while, and Voldemort suddenly twisted his arm and dragged him forward. Harry was startled and angry, but he didn't dare to make any noise, he could only curse under his breath, trying to break free.Voldemort was much stronger than he had imagined, and the hand that held him was rock-solid.He directly pressed him on the front desk, and said to the trembling receptionist, "Lord Voldemort needs to see the attending physician who treats snake venom."

The receptionist slipped his foot and ran out covering his mouth without saying a word.

"Are you crazy?" Harry growled through gritted teeth. Voldemort was no longer holding him. He twisted his shoulder hard, and his injured arm stabbed. "What the hell are you doing?"

Voldemort glanced at him, and just when Harry thought he wasn't going to answer, he said, "Your mind is tiresome."

Harry froze for three seconds before realizing what he was saying, and said dryly, "I'm glad you're no longer interested in my memory."

"Never interested."

"Okay, so how did you escape from my mind?" he asked word by word.

"A practical little magic requires a sacrifice."

"Is it black magic?"

"Making Horcruxes out of living things is very risky... so I sacrificed Nagini."

"...What?" Harry couldn't understand what he said, and Voldemort looked at him coldly, as if he didn't intend to explain, "You mean, you sacrificed Nagini?"

"To be precise, it is the soul piece in its body."

"It's dead?"

"Obvious."

"But--"

"But something went wrong when I came out... I left something in your head." He stared at him sharply, Harry's throat tightened, and a stone rolled down inside, Rolling all the way into the abyss.

"Some things...forgot...in my mind?" He said slowly, as if he didn't know these words.

"My magical powers, Potter... I'll keep an eye on you until you return them..."

"Stop, wait a minute! You said you left your magical abilities in my head, but I didn't feel anything like that at all! I still don't know how to use black magic as before, and I don't know how to fly without a wand , It doesn't make sense at all." Harry said hastily.

"That doesn't mean anything, you think you can easily use Lord Voldemort's power?" He took a step closer, and Harry felt a strong sense of oppression instantly.He opened his mouth, not knowing what to say, when the receptionist ran over dragging a middle-aged therapist with a sad face.

"Hug, sorry for the delay! I really can't find anyone else..."

Harry and Voldemort looked at each other, he coughed, tried to smile at the receptionist and the therapist, and said, "It's okay, I'll trouble you."

For some reason, he felt their bodies shaking more violently.