[HP] Crack

"I need a rest," Harry said silently, "and I haven't had breakfast yet."

Harry felt that he had encountered too many novel things these days, and everything was related to Voldemort—being saved by Voldemort, sleeping with Voldemort, and even the object of the first unbreakable oath in his life .And now there was one more novelty - having breakfast with Voldemort.

Just as others always look at him with special eyes, Voldemort is also a kind of demonized existence in his heart.He doesn't eat, doesn't sleep, and is always full of energy, giving orders to the Death Eaters to harm others, and looking around for what he wants.

And all this is slowly being broken.Voldemort ordered Harry to go to a breakfast shop and steal two loaves of bread and milk. If Hermione was around, he would have put some money under the bread cabinet, but none of them had Muggle coins.

They stood in the corner enjoying breakfast slowly.The bread is fluffy, exudes a tangy aroma, and the taste is not bad.The milk is slightly sweet and warm in the palm of your hand.Harry watched Voldemort quietly as he sipped his milk. He had rarely had the opportunity to watch him in such detail. Their confrontation was always fraught with death, and they knew very little about each other.Harry learned some of his past from Dumbledore, but that was a very small part, very important but not that important - they reinforced a part of demonizing characteristics, which he found that he needed now.

Voldemort's face was flattened and distorted by soul damage and Dark Magic reshaping, but it didn't seem all that scary after getting used to it.His limbs were slender, and his skin seemed to be covered with a layer of pearl powder, filled with a unique glow of magic.Obviously, he cannot be seen as a normal person by any means, but that does not mean that there is no common ground in him.

His lips moved slowly as he ate the bread, and occasionally crumbs stuck to it, and for a moment he had some strange thought, and he wanted to lick it off for him.Harry panicked; he thought he might be starving.

Harry was slightly disappointed that Voldemort didn't drink the bottle of milk and gagged it to Harry.

"Are you allergic to milk?" he asked.

The man glanced at him without answering.

"Or do you think it's too sweet?"

"You want to please me?" Voldemort's eyes became strange.

"Obviously not," Harry quickly denied, and after a moment's hesitation, added, "I'm just curious... I don't think you seem to be very picky eaters." After eating, there is no cognition in this regard.

"I don't like it," the man said after a while, when Harry thought he wouldn't answer him.

Harry's heart beat strangely, and his chest felt tight.He couldn't help but wonder how many people had heard Voldemort say that - on the surface, Voldemort was obviously not a person who would let others do what he liked.In fact, there are fewer and fewer human features in him. He seems to only have an extreme desire for power, indulge in the study of magic, and know nothing about other aspects.He couldn't help thinking how startling it seemed to him that he didn't even understand what love felt like.

"What do you like?" Harry asked.He has a lot of things he likes, Christmas dinner, exciting night tour, Quidditch, invisibility cloak and Marauder's map, too many, he is a normal person, but Voldemort - he cares about more than power What?

"This question is meaningless." Voldemort narrowed his eyes slightly, looking at him thoughtfully. "Whether it's for you or for me..."

"You're good at finding out what other people like, so you don't allow people to fool you in the same way, do you?" Harry remembered the basket of jackfruit to please Slughorn, and the bouquet for Hep Rose of Ziba.

"Wrong. The only way to please me is to obey, Potter. Don't try to play tricks."

Harry rolled his eyes inwardly, thinking how idle he was.

The so-called trial with Voldemort was exhausting and not very successful.Even with the guarantee of the Unbreakable Vow, it was almost impossible for Harry to trust a man who was ready to kill him.No matter how many times Voldemort emphasized making him forget his own existence and give up his self-control, it was extremely difficult to actually do it.It's like asking a person with normal vision to walk with his eyes closed, even though he knows there are no obstacles ahead, but the fear and insecurity in his heart will always make him open his eyes in advance.

It felt weird to have Voldemort invading his mind, as if he had opened the safe of all his privacy to a thief, who could look into all his hidden secrets and stir up storms in his mind... even if it was done by his closest friends This kind of thing is very embarrassing, not to mention that the other party is an endless enemy.

Anyway, he and Voldemort couldn't tell who was more annoyed when Harry woke up for the fifth time to find himself lying on the ground.

"What just happened?" Harry asked, rubbing his head, and there was a faint red mark on his forehead from a stone.In fact he is not eager to know the answer.

"I don't want to repeat what stupid thing you did." The man stared at him dangerously.

"Coincidentally, I don't want to know." He grunted. "Get something to eat?"

"Hungry so soon?"

"Not yet, just a little thirsty."

Voldemort glanced at him and raised his eyebrows: "Your beard should be shaved."

Harry found that Voldemort's food intake was very small, almost half of his own, and it was reduced to half.He didn't think he was a glutton, he was often hungry when he was a child, and he didn't become a chubby fat man like Dudley in Hogwarts, but he was nothing compared to Voldemort—his food intake could be called restraint, If he didn't know that he didn't have this need, he would even think he was losing weight.

"Is it hard to eat?" Harry couldn't help asking.

"I don't feel anything."

"Have you ever eaten so little before? I mean, did black magic change your body?"

"Your questions are too many, Potter, and often childish," he sneered.

This is his attitude, his indifference to everything in life.Harry couldn't understand how he could bear such a life of poverty - and want to live even longer, forever.His life was joyless, nothing but hatred and loneliness.He has no love, or even enjoyment. He can endure pain and humiliation, and he can wander in Albania for more than ten years as a ghost before making a comeback, but what is this for?

Harry remembered Dumbledore telling him that Voldemort was too busy destroying his own soul to look less and less human.Naturally, the changes caused by destroying the soul cannot only be reflected in the appearance, he is not quite like a person in various ways.

When the two of them were experimenting at night, Harry was a little absent-minded and made frequent mistakes. Even Voldemort's scolding just went through his mind once and slipped away without a trace.

During the break, he cautiously leaned over to observe Voldemort's robe.According to his several meetings with Voldemort, he always seems to wear the same black robe, soft and cold silk texture, not even woven from the cloth, but more directly made by magic.

He touched it quietly when he wasn't paying attention, the black cloth flowed through his fingertips like soft bright water, and tiny stars shone in the black clouds.Before he could delve deeper, the man's eyes turned around and stared straight at him.Harry froze for a second, then smiled and let go.

"Er—I'm just a little curious."

Voldemort continued to stare at him without speaking, the piercing gaze sending hairs down his back.

"You never seem to change your clothes," he added.

"...You seem to be very curious about me today." The man moved closer, pressing his palm on the back of his hand, as if covered with a layer of ice, "What exactly do you want to do?"