[HP] Crack

He felt that he was almost melting, burning badly, but he still didn't let him go, pushed his robe up a little more, and groped carefully.

Harry took his hand and struggled to turn around.He wanted to look into his eyes, looking for an answer.Another voice came from the depths of his brain, and he tried to suppress it.

"Wait a minute, I want to ask a question," said Harry, controlling the tremor in his voice.

"Hurry up, Potter." Voldemort stared at him.

"Before you—I mean, did you ever—"

"If it's such a boring question—"

"It's important, Riddle!" Harry felt his breath clearer. "I think we should figure it out. You didn't like touching me, did you?"

The air became cold and dull, and they still maintained their original posture, but Harry inexplicably felt that he was more distant, his facial features were blurred, like an elusive phantom.

"It's you who like me treating you like this, Potter." After a while, the man showed a mocking smile.

"So you do things you don't like to fulfill my wishes?—I didn't know you could do this, Voldemort," said Harry. "Before—I understand, it was to restore magic. do you need?"

"You don't need to know what I need." His eyes became dangerous.

"You're not avoiding me, Riddle, you're avoiding yourself," Harry looked at him seriously, "you've touched the answer, but you don't want to think about it."

"Answer...? No answer, boy," whispered Voldemort. "Only you are delusional."

"You know exactly what you should do, don't argue, you know! You know what the answer is. If you really didn't change, you would have killed me long ago instead of doing this kind of thing with me here." Harry Biting his lower lip, he felt a little sore, "Have you ever done this kind of thing with others before? You would—let others approach you to such a distance, I am your enemy, and I know that sometimes enemies are stronger than friends know each other, but do you let an enemy who could kill you come so close to you?"

After he finished speaking, he took a long breath and lowered his eyes not to look at his expression.He's wanted to say these words for a long time, and everything has been wrong since the day he woke up in his head... He slowly approached him, destroying and rebuilding a new universe at the same time.Their fate should have been entwined, and that flashing green light bound two very different souls.Those experiences of narrow escapes in his life, he returns from death, and will return to death again.

Voldemort let go of his grip slowly, pulling back his nightgown.He stared at him for a moment, smiled queerly, and said, "I know what you're thinking, Potter . . . you want to get out of my hands, don't you?"

He touched his face, but was pushed away angrily by the latter, who looked disappointed in him: "You don't know what real control is, Voldemort."

Harry sat up and moved back against the bed.

"You can easily control me, but you don't understand. How I want you to understand, Riddle, if I could..."

The boy looked straight at him, with a thick and sad power in his eyes, like a burning knife, piercing deeply into the heart.Voldemort slowly clenched his fingers, recalling for no reason another snowy night, he returned to Hogwarts wrapped in a dark robe, and reunited with the old man in the cold headmaster's room.

"The days when I forced you to confess with a burning cabinet are over, Riddle, but I wish, I wish..."

What do you want?What do you want me to be according to your expectations?A sense of irritability rose up in his heart for no reason, and he had a strong urge to strangle him to death, but another force tried to control him.Back then he didn't attack Dumbledore because of reason, but now he doesn't need reason, if he wants to kill him, it's easy -

Harry moved forward a little, and took his hand.With hot palms covering the cold backs, he turned his head and kissed his side cheek lightly, and he left with one touch, like ashes of extinguished stars.

"I want to sleep," he said a few seconds later, crawling over and pulling the covers over him, curling up into a ball.Voldemort was silent for a while, leaned forward, pushed back a bit of the quilt and squeezed the back of his neck, the boy immediately opened his eyes and looked at him.

"what are you doing?"

"Tell me, Potter... you said I could control you."

"If that's the problem, then I'm going to sleep—"

"Potter!"

He pulled him out of the bedding and made him lie on his back in front of him.Harry glared at him, feeling a little sad, as he always did, only thinking of his own interests, never understanding the emotions he was trying to convey to him.Even if he sacrifices everything, can he really persuade this demon?

"Control as we understand it is not the same thing. Real control is no control. We trust each other without giving each other any constraints. There is no need for a Dark Mark or an unbreakable oath. Those are the products of distrust. You and a person When your heart is connected, you feel it - you don't believe in this kind of thing, just because you don't feel it. Like I believe in my friends, maybe we will have conflicts, but I believe that Ron will come back."

"Oh, do you think the same can happen between you and Lord Voldemort?" He seemed to smile vaguely, with a mocking tone.

"I hope, Riddle, I hope...but if you think it's impossible, I can't do it alone." Harry sighed.

"Don't forget who we are, Potter." Voldemort pointed sharply.

"Yeah, I know, it's my wishful thinking, okay?" Harry couldn't bear it any longer, "You can kill me now, Voldemort, just do it, it's what you're good at - destroying things you hate - —”

"Hate it? I don't hate it." He interrupted him suddenly.

"Uh, what?" Harry was taken aback.

"I don't hate you, Potter." The man looked at him thoughtfully. "You think I kill people I hate? — no, sometimes I have to. But you Yes, I could kill you right away, but I didn't."

Harry took a deep breath, feeling himself burning again.

"No, you hate me," he stammered, "you hate losing, don't you? I've escaped from you so many times—"

"I hate losing, but it's two different things," he interrupted. "You always surprise me."

"Well, I don't think you might want this kind of surprise very much," Harry said cautiously.

"You were so young when you got my diary, you should be terrified... I appreciate everyone's terrified expressions. But you don't, you were chosen by me, it's unbelievable..."

"But I'd rather not," said Harry, his extremities feeling cold again. "You force this on me, don't you have to face life-and-death crises as a child? ... I sometimes think, if I was killed Wouldn't it be better if I didn't know anything that night..."

They walked through the cold winter town, stepping deep and shallow on the blue snow, with the lonely Christmas Eve singing echoing in their ears.Standing in front of his parents' cold tombstone, everything seems to go back to another wasteland. At the end of the wasteland are ashes and smoked houses. He squats down on the edge of the lawn. The golden messages of visitors from all over the world on the notice board are like the withered smoothies at the end of time. .

We'll always believe in you, Harry, they said.

They yearned for a boy whose birth was a miracle, who carried the sun forward from then on, as if he could succeed in everything, defeating the Dark Lord one after another until another myth was achieved... They said they believed him, so he couldn't Back off, not to be weak, not to fantasize about not being born, not to be in love with one's enemy.

"The prophecy said that you will be stabbed by a force you don't understand. I think you probably also expected that you will have retribution sooner or later, but you don't know what form it will come in." He said.

Voldemort didn't answer, his blood-red eyes turning dark brown in the night.His thumb slowly stroked his lips, then gradually slid down and landed on his hand.

"I don't care what form it takes... but if it were you..." He broke off, and Harry sadly found himself starting to think.He can always have undue expectations because of his words.