[HP] Crack

He had a long, long dream.The dream started in an endless black mist, he fell silently in the cold... The sound of countless people's footsteps passed by his ears, slowly and hurriedly, he opened his eyes and found that he was hugging Looking at a snow-white owl, its big eyes are looking at him, as bright as snow.

Hedwig, he yelled, not knowing why he was pushing so hard, Hedwig—

The owl cage spun into the cold night, ice jammed his throat.His mouth was filled with a strong smell of blood, he stretched out his hand hard, he wanted to grab something, he wanted to climb to the moon, he wanted to tear away the red color of the night... The wind was strong, they shouted in unison in the ear, sharp and piercing , fate, fate!

His legs sank into the thick snow, and a bell rumbled in his head.It was too deep, too far away, and his eyes were frozen into ice beads.But that voice is still shouting, fate!Fate!

Harry opened his eyes and sat up, panting heavily, propping his forehead.That shout seemed to be engraved in his brain, destroying his city wall over and over again.He lifted the quilt and wanted to get out of bed, but his arm was grabbed at once.He turned to see Voldemort staring at him.

"where are you going?"

"I..." He opened his mouth, breathing quickly, and found himself unable to say anything.

"Having a nightmare?" The man immediately sensed that something was wrong with him, touched his palm and forehead, and frowned, "It's very cold."

Harry shook his head, but said nothing.He pressed his temple, stared at the darkened window for a while, and said in a low voice, "I dreamed that my owl died."

He was about to go on, and Voldemort got up from the bed and walked to the window, which slid silently to either side.Harry shivered as the cold wind blew into the warm room, and pulled the quilt over himself.

He squinted his eyes, the sky had already begun to turn white, and the sky was rising and brightening behind the long clouds.The man's dark back resembled a cracked scar, blurry and deep.He closed his eyes, and the person by the window turned and walked towards him, and sat down beside his bed.He smelled a cold, and something soft scratched his face.

Harry sat up in a jerk, rubbing his eyes vigorously.Voldemort was holding a black owl in his hand. Its feathers didn't look too smooth. It seemed to be running around for a long time, and its bright eyes were staring at him.

Harry stared at it stupidly, not moving.With trembling hands, he slowly reached over and touched its head.The owl pecked Harry's hand.

Voldemort stuffed the owl into Harry's arms and closed the window again.Harry held it carefully, staring at it left and right, seemingly in disbelief.The man hugged him a little closer to him, let him lean in front of him, and moved his hands on him as if nothing.

"You—you didn't kill it then?" Harry turned to look at him, his eyes bright.Voldemort didn't answer. He lowered his head and kissed his neck. Harry felt itchy and ducked slightly.

"I made it do my bidding, and it wasn't hard to do," he said.

"You didn't tell me then—"

"Why should I tell you?"

"Since then you've—"

"To shut up."

Harry shut his mouth judiciously, teased the owl for a while longer, set it down on the ground, and turned to face him.Voldemort was looking at him, that intense gaze that seemed to engulf him.Harry felt hot from his gaze, his mouth parched, and just as he was about to speak, a hand went into his underpants.

"Check your wounds," he said, his tone calm, but the red light in his eyes betrayed his deep longing.Harry panted excitedly, he was so looking forward to it, all the time he thought it was just his own wishful thinking, he didn't expect that since then he had already started to take him into his heart.

They tossed from early morning to noon, and continued after a brief break.The sweat on his body dried up and steamed again, Harry put his arms around his neck, opened it as far as possible, puffed out his chest, and tried his best to experience the unprecedented beauty.

He called the man's name intermittently, leaning back, immersed in the waves of heat.It was all so moving, he stared at him obsessively, and the man looked back at him in the same way, their eyes imprisoning each other.But everything is not over yet, the footprints of trekking in the cold night have not been blown away by the wind, Christmas songs are still singing about fate, he feels the shock from the other side of the soul, the same affection is always a sin.They grabbed one another and dragged each other into purgatory.

In the evening Harry sat on the stairs on the second floor listening to the conversation below.Voldemort's birthday had passed, Malfoy Manor was no longer a paradise for the two of them, and the Death Eaters were allowed to enter and exit here again.Harry couldn't tell what he felt inside when he heard the news, it was like a gust of wind blowing through a wound that hadn't healed, and a slight chill seeped in.

Bellatrix and Narcissa in the living room were discussing something nervously and in low voices, and occasionally some vague words like "Master" and "Order of the Phoenix" floated in.Their voices were like logs slowly burning in the fireplace, collapsing one by one.Harry was a little dazed, he realized that they were still standing in that circle, and last night's revelry was an overly good dream.He didn't promise him anything, he got his heart, he thought that would be enough, but nothing else seemed to change.

What on earth was Voldemort thinking?What did he think... How should they face all this, is their love a bridge or a sharp edge, or is it a lie from beginning to end?

Harry stood up, stood there for a moment, and walked upstairs, scratching his nose.After walking a few steps, he bumped into a person head-on. The latter took a step back cursing, stopped immediately after seeing his face clearly, turned his head around him and walked out.Harry grabbed him reflexively.

"and many more--"

The man slammed his hand away, staggered back to the wall, and looked at him hostilely.Harry hesitated for a moment, then said, "I forgot to mention, Malfoy. We appreciate your help last time."

Draco looked at him coldly, pouted his lips, and said, "I didn't help you, don't think too much about it."

"Uh, say what you want."

"I shouldn't be talking to you. I have to go."

"Did you—did you get any order?"

Draco looked at him inexplicably: "What?"

"Didn't Tang—Voldemort say anything to you when you were called back?"

"I don't know," he immediately became vigilant, narrowing his eyes, "but your words are a bit strange, 'recall'? We're just on a temporary holiday."

After speaking, Draco ignored Harry, turned around and ran away quickly.

Harry stood there for a moment, then turned and walked back to the stairs leading to the first floor.Bellatrix and Narcissa were still sitting on the sofa, and he walked straight up to them, staring at them.The conversation stopped and they looked at him.

Bellatrix raised her eyebrows, and her lips curled slightly into a sarcastic smile.Narcissa just frowned slightly, as if remembering Voldemort's previous warning, she pursed her lips tightly and said nothing.

Harry looked at them, not knowing what to say for a moment.He suddenly realized what an incomprehensible hatred he had for them--for this group of people. He stared into Bellatrix's eyes, and he saw the floating blue curtain, and through the curtain, a ray of light entered. Another world, all hopelessness of powerlessness, and then some urge to attack...

"If you dare to fight me here, Potter, the master will end your life immediately." The woman's shrill voice interrupted his thoughts, and Harry shook his head, only to realize that he had drawn out his wand at some point.

"I heard you guys discussing the Order of the Phoenix just now." Harry resisted the urge to attack her, still gripping his wand tightly.

Her eyes widened slightly, excited as if she smelled prey, and whispered: "I know what you want to ask. You are scared and want your friends to save you, right?"

Before he could answer, she immediately continued: "But don't try to get any information from me, Potter. The Order of the Phoenix will not come to save you, and it will come back in vain... You will have to die then." ..."

Harry keenly grasped the key words in it, and asked: "Returning without success? What are you doing?"

Bellatrix looked at him with pity, and was about to say something when a cold voice sounded beside them: "Bella."