[HP] Crack

Voldemort twirled the wand in his hand, narrowing his eyes slightly.No one in the hall dared to speak, everyone watched the expression on his face and held their breath.Suddenly, his expression changed, and he strode towards the dungeon.

Harry stumbled up to the fourth floor, where the fight had just broken out.He tried to apparate in the middle, but it still failed, which proved that it was the man who remained, and everything was not over... He opened the first room in the corridor on the fourth floor, and there were only a chair and A table, exactly like the room he had seen where Voldemort interrogated Death Eaters.He breathed a sigh of relief, thinking that he might have guessed right, Voldemort's room was probably on this floor as well.

They hadn't seen the main soul when they first arrived at Malfoy Manor, but Voldemort had assured him that he was here, and upstairs - by virtue of the vague telepathy between the soul slices.Harry speculated that he might be resting in his own room, and after connecting everything he saw just now, he probably figured out what happened between them: the main soul who was resting in the room felt movement, but was ambushed when he walked out of the room. Caught in a fight, the main soul was killed in the end.

If there was one room in Malfoy Manor that might have escaped Voldemort's Detection Charm, it would have to be his own bedroom.Harry believed that it must be covered with all kinds of defensive spells, and if there was no other way, he would have to admit defeat.

He quickly opened the rooms on either side of the hallway, and closed them after a brief glance.He didn't know when Voldemort would search upstairs, so he had to hurry up.

When Harry ran to the penultimate room on the right, he turned the doorknob hard, only to find it wouldn't open.

He took a step back, took a deep breath, vigorously wiped off the sweat on his forehead, pulled out his wand and pointed to the door: "Ahola's hole is open!"

The red light slammed into the door panel, and the door shook and opened silently.He quickly slipped sideways into the crack of the door, locked the door behind his back, and slid down against the wall.

The curtains in the room were drawn tightly and the light was dim. Harry could only vaguely make out that there was a big bed in front of him.After calming down for a while, he grabbed the invisibility cloak and stood up, squinting his eyes and groping forward. After walking a few steps, he bumped into a hard object.He knelt down and patted around, and found a thick book.

Harry stood up with the book in hand, lit his wand, and found him standing in front of a small bookshelf.The bookshelf was made of fine sandalwood, and there were five layers, each layer filled with tomes—maybe it used to be like this, but what Harry saw now was just a piece of ancient books that were crumbling here and there, each layer was full of books. More than half of the books were missing, and one floor was completely empty, with more than a dozen books with pages spread out on the floor.Harry looked at the bookshelf and the wall next to it, and then turned his wand to look at the ceiling and the big bed. There were small craters left by the magic beam and traces of explosion fragmentation everywhere. It was obvious that there had been a struggle here.

Harry's heart instantly cooled down.He guessed wrong, the battle started here, they fought from the room to the corridor... Then, even if the protective magic had been placed in this room, it was likely to be destroyed during the battle, and it was not safe at all!

He extinguished his wand and ran for the door.Before he could reach the door, the lights in the room suddenly turned on, shocking him to the spot.Then there was the sound of the lock turning, and Harry froze for a second, realizing he couldn't just stand here.But this room is not big, all the space is occupied by the bed, bookshelf and a small table, and there is almost no place to stand.In desperation, he crawled to the bottom of the table, grabbed the invisibility cloak to cover himself firmly, and his heart beat fast.

The door opened, and a long shadow came in, wrapping around Harry's throat like a pair of black hands.He glanced at the man from the corner of his eye, then immediately lowered his head, trying to suppress his breath.

The man seemed to have paused at the door for a while before walking in, closing the door without a sound.Footsteps approached slowly, Harry's scalp was numb, don't spot him, don't... From his angle, he could only see Voldemort's swaying black robe and legs. He sat down on the edge of the bed, and Harry quietly raised his He started to look up and saw his fingertips fiddled with something...then he realized he was unbuttoning and looked down quickly.

It's afternoon, what is he doing undressing?Are you going to take a nap?But he didn't think he needed to change his clothes for a nap... Harry was thinking wildly when the legs in front of him suddenly moved away, and the pressure on his head disappeared unexpectedly.

He raised his head subconsciously, and Voldemort was standing in front of him holding his wand, a red light flashed at the tip of the wand.He bent down and grabbed the invisibility cloak on his body, and pulled it up vigorously.Harry was cold, his mind was blank, and he didn't resist, allowing him to peel it off.He still kept his head up, looking at the man silently.

Voldemort watched him for a moment, then threw the cloak on the table, bound him up magically and carried him to the bed.Only then did Harry think of resisting. He struggled for a while, and when he found that the rope was getting tighter and tighter, he tried to touch the wand in his pocket, but it was so tightly wrapped that he couldn't reach it no matter how hard he tried.After working for a few minutes, Harry looked up to find that Voldemort was watching him with great interest in his useless work.

"Your arm is worn out," he said, in a playful tone.

"Yeah," Harry gritted his teeth, feeling a little discouraged, and simply lay still, "You found me a long time ago?"

"I guess you'll come here..." The man looked at him thoughtfully, and said softly, "You like to go deep into the enemy's camp, don't you?"

Harry stared at him silently, but Voldemort paid no attention, sat down beside him, and touched his face.Harry lifted his leg and kicked him, and the rope wrapped around his calf.

"You cast that spell." He looked at him for a while, then said suddenly.Harry realized immediately what he was referring to, and blurted out:

"Is that person you?"

Voldemort narrowed his eyes and said in a dangerous tone, "You thought it was him?"

"I don't know who it is. I just happened to see it and, well, I know I shouldn't have done that."

"You mean you happened to go to the fourth floor," he sneered, "if it was him who was in danger at that time, you would help him too, wouldn't you?"

"Perhaps. But I haven't thought about it—I mean, stop asking, it doesn't make sense."

"It means a lot. If you're a traitor—"

"You seem to have made a mistake. I'm not in your camp at all. How can there be such a thing as a traitor?" Harry rolled his eyes.

"In that case, why do you want to help?" He asked coldly.

He choked, and struggled again.The wound on his arm rubbed against the rope and seeped into the pain bit by bit, and he had to stop.

A hand was placed on his frayed upper arm, and Harry suddenly felt the rope loosen there, no longer tightening the muscles.Voldemort fetched a small ointment with the Flying Charm, squeezed out a little and applied it vigorously to his wound.

"The right thing to do is to sit on the sidelines while we're fighting, and wait until we're both hurt, Potter... I'd do it if I were you." Voldemort glanced at him, who was enduring the fiery sting, "It's your stupid kindness again...is it?"

"I didn't," Harry said angrily. He wanted to push his hand away, but his body was restricted by the rope. "I know you don't need it."

He paused, and then said: "But it doesn't mean I won't do it. I know that it's your own fault. You split yourself into countless pieces by killing people, and you suffer backlash... There is nothing to sympathize with. If you have to say , this way of dying is also very suitable for you. But I don’t think it should be like this.”

"What's that supposed to be?" Voldemort's crimson eyes fixed on him. "You hate me, don't you?"

"I hate you, I hate you so much I want to kill you," Harry whispered, "You killed my parents, you killed so many people... I grew up hating my uncle's parents, I could have To have a childhood no different from others, without fame, without going through so many life and death hardships, and finally become an ordinary person, with a simple and busy life...Dumbledore once asked me, if I don't know that Prophecy, I don’t know if I have to face you and fight against you, will I step into the battlefield. My answer is yes. This is not determined by the prophecy, it is cause and effect.”

They were silent for a while, and Harry felt his throat sore, even a little sore.He knew very well that he should not go on with the next words, but he still wanted to say them.

"You don't feel anything when you kill, don't you? You feel that these people have nothing to do with you, the world has nothing to do with you, you only care about yourself...but how can this last? Do you know that your body has How cold? Do you think it's just physical? You think you're powerful, Voldemort, but you're not as good as ordinary people in some ways, you don't understand—"

Harry couldn't finish his sentence because his neck was strangled.Voldemort stared at him, his eyes red with rage.Cold fingers clung to his fragile neck, and he coughed, shaking his head.The man let go of his hand all of a sudden, walked to the window with his back turned to him, and opened the curtains.The hot, harsh afternoon sun fell on Harry's face and chest.