The Last Goodbye

pregnancy. "

"It's nothing." The writer smiled and took a sip of tea. "I also wanted to come to London to find inspiration. I see that the store still has the Bookman sign...is it not rented out yet?"

"As you can see, this is not a wealthy neighborhood."

Mrs. Cole glanced at the empty fireplace in the orphanage, "The economy is depressed, no one has the money to rent a storefront." Her tone was still cold. Harry nodded thoughtfully, then turned his attention to the children in the living room.They were all small and thinly dressed, and Quint, who was mopping the floor at the door, and Caroline, who stood quietly by the side, seemed to be the two largest of the group.Several other children were neatly folding the washed clothes on the edge of the table, and their curious big eyes glanced at themselves from time to time. Harry was pretty sure they'd been coveting the little biscuit with the tea in front of him, and he smiled back at them friendly.

"Do you like children?" Seeing that the writer's attention has been on children, Mrs. Cole couldn't help asking. Harry withdrew his searching gaze again, nodded in agreement, then opened his suitcase as if remembering something, and took out a small colorful jar, "I happened to bring some candy, why don't you share it with them?" When the child saw the sugar, he immediately became energetic, and the little heads on the second floor also flocked to the edge of the stairs, chirping with each other.

Harry looked up, and as far as he could see, only one door at the end of the corridor on the second floor remained open.A trace of unpredictable emotion flashed in the emerald green eyes.

"You are really a kind person." Mrs. Cole commented, but her eyes were very wary. Harry was still smiling friendly, and the dean took the jar from his hand, and handed a candy to Caroline who was standing beside him.The little girl immediately peeled and ate happily, and then showed Harry a sweet and happy smile. "Delicious, isn't it?" Harry smiled back, and the little girl nodded vigorously.Seeing that there was nothing wrong with the candies, Mrs. Cole was relieved to greet the children on the second floor.After a while, the little furry heads crowded around Harry and formed a line under the stern gaze of the headmistress. Harry handed the sugar bowl to Quint, who seemed to be the oldest, and asked him to distribute it to the other children, while he walked to the second floor, "Do you mind if I take a look around?"

"Please go ahead." Mrs. Cole was taking aside a child who jumped in line, and seemed to have no time for other things. After getting permission, Harry quickly went upstairs, and walked lightly to the closed door.Only then did the headmistress notice where he had gone.Her face turned pale instantly, and she wanted to call out to stop him, but before she could, Harry had already opened the door at the end of the corridor on the second floor.

With a click, the wooden door opened. Harry heard Mrs. Cole's footsteps on the stairs, but he entered the room first.It was a narrow room, with only enough space for two narrow beds to be placed side by side, and a table and chair were crammed into the space in the middle.Sitting at the table was a little boy about ten years old.The boy's eyes were shifting from the book in his hand to the uninvited guest who broke into his house, and his dark eyes were full of disturbed anger.

"Hi," Harry smiled at the boy, then turned his head towards the door, "Do you want to go down and eat candy?"

The black-eyed boy didn't answer, just at that moment Mrs. Cole, who was out of breath, rushed over and called him from behind.

"Please stay away from this child, Mr. Potter." The headmistress warned, with a hint of anxiety in her originally cold voice.God forbid, she wanted to reach out and pull the impudent writer out, but the other children followed, and the woman had to keep them out of the door with her body.

"Do you like reading, kid?" Harry didn't look back, more like he didn't hear the woman's warning.The green eyes were still looking at the silent boy in front of him, and he even took a step forward, "What's your name, huh?"

The boy still didn't answer, just squinted his eyes, and Harry could read the threat and rejection in it, but the smile on his face continued unabated.The two were only a few feet away, and Harry calmly reached out his hand, ready to stroke the boy's head.Suddenly there was the sound of a sharp object scratching the flesh, and Mrs. Cole, who was standing at the door, gasped.Harry, with his back turned to them, paused slightly.He saw that his outstretched hand was split at the tiger's mouth. The wound was not deep, but blood was overflowing.The black-eyed boy who was close at hand grinned a contemptuous and cold smile.But the young writer's next move made the smirking boy completely stunned—the injured hand continued the unfinished movement just now, stretched it down gently, and touched his head.The writer's green eyes narrowed slightly, and he gave a gentle smile to the boy opposite—the latter remained dumbfounded and did not resist.Taking advantage of this gap, Mrs. Cole stepped forward, angrily pulling Harry back to the door.

"God..." She took Harry's hand and looked at the scars, and said to herself, "Look what he's done..."

"Ah...what?" Harry still had a friendly smile on his face, and looked at his hand inexplicably, as if he had just discovered the injury, "Oh...it's nothing, it's because I didn't sharpen the pencil yesterday. Be careful not to hurt yourself." He said calmly.

This time even Mrs. Cole was stunned, and the black-eyed boy not far away even widened his eyes. Harry Potter looked calm, not paying attention to the injury on his hand at all.The black-eyed boy couldn't sit still, he put down the book in his hand and stood up. Seeing this, Mrs. Cole stared at him with guarded eyes, as if the other party was a poisonous snake.

"Who are you?" The boy's voice was cool, and his dark eyes stared at the writer without blinking.

"I'm Harry, Harry Potter." The green eyes met the dark ones, and the young man could read the curiosity that was trying to hide from the boy's cold and indifferent eyes.The smile on the corner of his mouth deepened, "And you, my boy, what's your name?"

"My name is Riddle." The boy replied curtly.

"Hello, Riddle." Harry squatted down and looked him straight.There was a bewitching pure kindness and an unfathomable quiet emotion in those smiling green eyes, like the thin sunlight in the morning on a rippling lake.

At the bottom of the dense lake, where sunlight cannot penetrate, there is a flash of murderous intent.

I found you.

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Author's Note: The pairings are Harry and Riddle and Gindelwald and Dumbledore.Main plot direction, medium-length novel, HE ending, the outline has been drawn up so there will be no pitfalls, monthly updates are guaranteed, and weekly updates are strived for. I hope readers like it.

bookstore

BOOKMAN

1937

Ding Ling Dang.

The bell rang, and Harry, who was buried between the manuscripts, didn't look up, "Quint, you're late again."

"But you don't have any guests here..." Quint argued in a low voice.

"You're really getting bolder." Harry finally raised his head, seeing that the freckles on the red-haired boy's nose and the happy smile on his face were a replica of someone, he could only sigh helplessly.He tilted his head towards a stack of newspapers not far away, "You still have a penny if you sell them before dark."

"Yes, yes!" Quint took his task quickly, glanced at the black-haired boy sitting in the corner reading, and ran out the door without saying anything.Riddle closed the book after his figure disappeared at the corner of the street, and turned to look at Mr. Potter who was buried in the manuscript.From this angle, the ten-year-old boy can only see a few strands of black hair sticking out of the writer buried behind the manuscript.However, the savior, who has always had a keen intuition, immediately felt the sight glued to him.He raised his eyes to meet the little devil's gaze.The green pupils met the pitch-black ones, and neither of them had a smile in their eyes.

"I've finished reading, thank you." Riddle put the book aside.

"Hmm." Harry responded lightly, and continued to write with his head down.

As a young writer, Mr. Potter rented Bookman's store a month ago, opened a small bookstore called Pottermore, sold some best-selling books, also sold some newspapers, and regularly sent some candy to the orphanage. It quickly won the hearts of the children.He even managed to convince Mrs. Cole to lend him Quint as a temporary worker. Harry is such a hit with the little ones that every time he visits the kids happily gather around for sweets and stories - all but one.There was only one child who never asked the author for candy, nor listened to his fantastic fairy tales, nor even opened the door of his own closed room.However, two weeks later, on a morning before dawn, it was this kid who knocked on the door of the Pottermore bookstore—Tom Riddle.

"If I sell newspapers for you, can I read the books here for free?" the black-eyed boy cut to the chase. Harry obviously didn't expect