I abducted HP's friend on his wedding day

At that moment, Tom really thought that Salazar would follow the personality's wishes and chop off his arm. He even stopped breathing out of fear.

Tom knows better than anyone how little Salazar Slytherin cares about him.

but……

There was a little bit of hope in his heart.

Please don't give up on him like this, okay?

Until he felt the sharp pain from his fingertips, Tom lowered his head sluggishly and saw that a piece of the little finger was missing from his left hand.

He heard Salazar's cold voice.

"You can use his flesh and blood, but I think a finger is enough for you."

The person on the other side was a little surprised. The person who followed Voldemort was a tall and thin man. Even Tom couldn't remember which Death Eater he was, but at this moment, he saw the shock and surprise in the other person's eyes.

After all, for Salazar, he was a wizard who resented Voldemort for having his only biological brother killed by Voldemort. He even did not hesitate to degenerate into a terrible dark wizard, and wanted to fight with Voldemort and his lackey, the Eater. A person who will never stop his death.

He would actually agree to harm an innocent little wizard to resurrect Voldemort?

The Death Eater felt incredible when he heard his master's request.

But Salazar didn't mention anything and agreed neatly.

Voldemort's red eyes stared at Salazar. Of course he knew that for Salazar, resurrecting Voldemort and regaining his body was a necessary prerequisite for killing Voldemort in the future, so Voldemort was very confident, Salazar. Slytherin will agree to his request.

Moreover, the most important reason is that Voldemort wants to see another version of himself.

Tom Riddle, his Horcrux, those feelings that Voldemort had long discarded, his discarded bloodline, and even the so-called love Dumbledore said he gave up without hesitation... He was very It was certain that in those Horcruxes, he was also stripping away his own feelings that belonged to one person.

Therefore, those things that he thought were useless were collected and put together by Salazar Slytherin. Will the things he once put together be different from what he once was?

Voldemort suddenly became a little bit curious. He wanted to see Tom. He wanted to see whether the things he had cut away were pieced together into a monster, or something that Dumbledore and the others recognized.

Tom bit his lip, his face was pale, and cold sweat was flowing down drop by drop. He didn't even notice Voldemort's disappointed expression when he looked at him, but he felt a feeling of joy and grievance rising in his heart.

Salazar Slytherin was really cruel. He just chopped him down like that. He actually didn't care at all about him and his companionship for more than ten years. Did he really not have any feelings in the middle?

But if he didn't care about himself, why didn't he just follow Voldemort's wishes and cut off his own arm instead of just one of his fingers?

Does he actually care about himself?

Tom's heart was extremely complicated. He wanted to know the answer, but he didn't dare to know. He could only hold his injured hand and stand there dripping with cold sweat, not daring to speak or make any sound.

Voldemort laughed.

"You should know that if you want to kill me, it means that this little thing you created will also be destroyed along with me, right?"

Salazar raised his eyes and glanced at Voldemort, showing an expression of disgust.

"He will be destroyed with me."

Tom lowered his head and remained silent.

This was not a topic he found pleasant.

"Are you done talking nonsense?"

Under Voldemort's glare, Salazar picked up Tom's back collar, and then roughly pulled Tom away from here.

Voldemort yelled unwillingly.

But this cannot prevent Salazar from leaving.

"Resurrect him like this?" Tom asked cautiously. "The main thing is that I feel that at my current age, it doesn't seem to be the best time to face that guy, right?"

Salazar lowered his head and looked at Tom.

"Or do you have other plans?"

"As you think, I have other plans."

Tom blinked. He didn't even feel the pain in his fingers.

"You don't need me anymore?"

Salazar's voice seemed to reach Tom's ears from a great distance.

"My friend should need me to go back and help."

Thinking of Angus and Draco returning from a thousand years ago with news of the war, Tom suddenly understood.

"So, you want to deal with it as soon as possible, right? Can I understand that? When Voldemort is destroyed, you will also disappear from here?"

Tom heard Salazar's breathing, very light and heavy, one after another, each one hitting his heart with secret pain.

"At that time, you were dead too," Salazar said. "If you don't die, Voldemort won't die either. If I deal with Voldemort, that means you will die too."

Tom felt that his body was colder than ever before, not from the cold wind that was still blowing on him, but from the coldness coming from his bones.

"So, why do you care if I leave here? That means nothing to you."

Tom raised his head, his vision blurred, but he still looked at Salazar stubbornly, even though he couldn't see his eyes clearly, or how cold they were inside.

"Is there anyone in this world who will make you soft-hearted?"

Tom didn't want to question anything, but the grievance and unwillingness rising in his heart made him speak out.

"Salazar Slytherin, I really want to curse you, curse you to never get..."

The wind blew through Salazar's hair, revealing his calm eyes. Tom was like a deflated rubber ball, speechless. The resentment he wanted to express and the despair he wanted to vent were all here. His eyes were broken, and he felt that perhaps there had never been such a painful moment.

There will never be a person in this world who loves Tom Riddle, no one...

He said in a hoarse voice: "I should thank you for telling me that it is the last days, right? At least, I can choose to spend the last time to make myself happy."

"Then, thank you, Salazar Slytherin..."

Such a meaningless and unexpected Tom Riddle, what meaning could there be to live on? Death, at this moment, became a relief.