Doomed to be an enemy

Harry fell and rolled several times in embarrassment, only to realize that he was supported by magic - the invisible air was as soft as a feather pillow.Yet Harry swore the sharp shards of glass on the floor were inches from his face.He watched them suddenly disappear.

"Look who this is..." Voldemort's condescending voice sounded from the top of his head.Contrary to the sneer in that tone, the air feather pillow slowly sank and gently placed him on the floor, Harry blinked on the ground, turned over in a daze and showed Voldemort a flattering smile.

"Sorry, I came back late."

"I'm considering whether to accept it." Unmoved, Voldemort said softly, "Harry, what am I talking about, huh? Don't get drunk, you've had at least 20 ounces of wine." "Me too today I just realized that you can stay drunk with magic power..." Harry whispered. "So you don't have any scruples?" Voldemort stared at the boy on the ground with dark eyes, and touched the boy's arm with his bare feet after a while. "Get up," he said softly.

Harry's emerald green eyes stared at him from bottom to top, a little dazed and confused: "Are you really not wearing anything under your robe?" He raised his arm and grabbed the hem of Voldemort's robe. Hesitation and curiosity, and a sly smile that made Voldemort feel bad.

"——!" Voldemort pulled the robe back before the boy lifted it up, and Harry blinked in disappointment. Voldemort took a deep breath, it was fine, obviously the spirit of alcohol was on the rise now, the usual little boy was not so bold.

See, that's why he didn't allow Harry to drink too much, the magic did relieve the alcohol, but it just built up in the body, it wasn't really the cure. Voldemort leaned over and waved away the obstructing sleeves of his robe, and lifted the boy into his arms. The boy he liked hugged his back tightly and leaned weakly on his shoulder.

"Dizziness……"

"Do you know how uncomfortable it is now?" Voldemort raised his eyebrows, pursed his lips, and patted the boy's back lightly, explaining softly, "The wizard's magic comes from belief. If you hope not to get drunk, then you must be drunk sometimes. You The more you drink, the more drunk you get when you relax."

"You didn't teach me that," Harry accused bitterly.

Voldemort shut his mouth, and wisely stood up with the boy in his arms. Harry closed his eyes, dizzy even more.Then he felt himself being put under the soft quilt, and two bulging cushions were rudely stuffed behind him.

Harry opened his eyes, a steaming mug stuffed into his hand. "What is this—" A pungent peppermint smell rushed to his forehead, and Harry held his nose, choking tears down.This made the booze wear off almost immediately.The feeling of dizziness and vomiting subsided immediately. Voldemort elicited a smirk: "How good can you expect the hangover to be?"

Harry really didn't want to drink such a strong-smelling potion, and he glared at the man sitting by the bed.His eyes moved and he looked around the room.No flowers, no candles, not even a cake.Everything is the same as when he left.This disappointed Harry a little.Those emerald green eyes dimmed: "Didn't you say you were going to celebrate my birthday?"

"Did I say that?" Voldemort laughed lazily.

"Yes." Harry said firmly.He blinked and stared straight at the man, "Are you lying to me?" He asked softly.The hesitation and sadness in that tone made Voldemort feel like his heart was being pulled, and he couldn't stop laughing immediately.

He stretched out his arm, and touched the boy's cheeks flushed with alcohol with his white and slender fingertips: "Harry, when have I ever lied to you?" Harry turned away his cheeks angrily, "Many times." Voldemort For a moment, he tapped his fingertips on the boy's petal-like soft lips, and he told himself not to care about the drunk. Voldemort showed more patience, and said softly: "There was supposed to be a British Quidditch selection final at seven o'clock in the evening, and I asked them to reserve the top box."

Harry's eyes lit up for a moment. It had been a long time since he had seen Quidditch.

He hesitated, and looked at Voldemort again with some reluctance. The latter raised the corners of his lips, withdrew his fingertips, and chuckled: "I asked the Death Eaters to book the viewing restaurant on the top floor of the Swiss Re headquarters building - where you can overlook The entire Muggle London, and then, I personally used magic to dispel the haze of the entire London city..." Voldemort paused, narrowing his eyes, "Do you want me to continue?"

Harry shook his head silently, and said in a low voice, "I'm sorry."

Voldemort snorted inexplicably, dissatisfied that the annoyance in his heart was extinguished by the boy's listless look.His fingers slid into the nape of the boy's neck, and he placed a soft kiss on Harry's forehead. His soft breath brushed the boy's forehead hair, and said softly, "Quidditch is behind us, but if you If you like, I will take you to London now."

Under Voldemort's slightly narrowed gaze, Harry nodded intuitively and obediently.

"So, now, drink this hangover potion, my boy." Voldemort smiled charmingly in satisfaction.

At 30 St. Mary's Axe Street, no one paid attention to the two figures who suddenly appeared on the streets of London. Only the security guards were left in the Swiss Re headquarters building.He saw Voldemort approaching while holding Harry's hand, and he seemed to recognize it for a few seconds before he breathed a sigh of relief and walked over quickly.

"It's almost eleven o'clock, I thought you wouldn't come, the elevator is here, please follow me."

"Where's the chef?" Voldemort didn't seem to want to talk nonsense to the Muggle at all.

"It's on the top floor. I have been waiting for a long time according to your instructions."

Voldemort's black, ominous robes slid lightly across the marble floor, but the Muggle security guard didn't seem to notice.Harry's mouth was still chilly, and the strong peppermint smell of the hangover solution made him dare not open his mouth at all.

The security guard pressed the 41st floor for them.Harry's clear green eyes watched Voldemort enter the elevator with novelty, and soon he knew it was nothing. When the elevator doors opened, two foreign Death Eaters were standing in front of the ornate double doors.

"Owner."

They saluted neither humble nor overbearing, and opened the door neatly for them. Voldemort nodded, softly telling them to back off.

Bright candlelight lit up the empty restaurant.The glass dome of the ecological spiral is so bright that you can almost see the starry sky at night in all directions when you look up—it is a wider starry sky than you can see in Hogwarts.

Looking out from here, the whole of London is at your feet, and countless lights are scattered below like jewels, which is very beautiful at night.

Harry's drunkenness had been mostly taken away by the antidote.The dark and polished floor of the entire restaurant is spotless, a black grand piano is quietly placed beside the window, a square table made of marble, and a vase filled with fresh roses are placed on the white tablecloth.

When Harry came back to his senses, he turned to look at Voldemort, who was asking a chef in a low voice.Soon they were done talking.Harry pulled away the chair next to the only table and sat down. Watching the chef return to the kitchen, Voldemort used his wand to move the opposite chair to his side before sitting down in satisfaction. Harry couldn't help laughing.

Voldemort stared at the hand stretched out in front of him. The boy's fingers had thin calluses from the wand and many shallow, inconspicuous scars.He gently raised his hand to hold those unsightly marks, and asked knowingly, "What are you doing?"

Harry blinked dissatisfied: "Of course it's a gift."

"I'm not ready." "No, you sure are," said Harry firmly. Voldemort was speechless for a while, looking at the boy's determined and teasing eyes, he looked away in frustration: "You really ruin the atmosphere, little boy."

With a flick of his wand, the vase was moved to the edge, and a roll of thick parchment in a wooden box appeared on the dining table. "What's this?" Harry looked curiously. Voldemort didn't answer.

"Open it and have a look." He said softly.

With permission, Harry took the scroll out of the inside, untied the thin twine on it, and unfolded it gently.The black ink smoothly outlines a detailed architectural structure diagram, which is quite a large drawing, including all the rooms of the manor, the basement, the secret passage, and the planning of the entire manor, as well as the rune inscriptions and the structure of the defense system, etc. All at a glance.

Harry's eyes widened in surprise, and he couldn't help stretching out his hand to caress these lines, and where his fingertips touched, the flat, pale image suddenly bulged, like a virtual three-dimensional color image, it stood on the paper vividly. The part touched was so vividly interpreted that Harry held his breath.

"Like it?" Voldemort asked softly.

Harry withdrew his fingers as if he had been burned, and pursed his lips tightly: "You shouldn't give me this, it's not safe." Any wizard who got this blueprint would be able to see everything in this manor at a glance. It is very easy to break into or even destroy from the outside.

"I do not think so."

There was a lazy smile in Voldemort's tone, and he stretched out his hand to hold the boy's cold fingertips. "My boy, you are its owner too. Now it belongs to both of us, maybe you would prefer to call it..." Voldemort looked at the boy without the slightest smile, "Home."

He gently closed the scroll, put it back into the box, and without the slightest hesitation grabbed the boy's hand that was about to retract, and put it in the palm of that hand.

"Hold it, little boy." Harry's heart trembled for a moment, like a cunning and suspicious snake slowly and hesitantly revealing its undefended soft belly to itself. The structure is linked to the building and almost never changes, Harry can fully imagine how important this thing is to Voldemort.

At this moment, the aroma of food in the air became stronger, and some fat chefs personally placed the plate with grilled lobster and dipping sauce in front of them, accompanied by a very light-looking vegetable salad. "The Death Eaters told me you didn't eat much over there." Voldemort gently helped the helpless boy to embed and peel off the shrimp shells with a knife, and the rich shrimp fragrance permeated, making Harry feel hungry.

Then came oysters and oysters, crab porridge, baked potatoes, roasted tomatoes, and hot ginger ale in front of Harry.Harry was a little dumbfounded as he smelled the spicy smell and looked at Voldemort's table wine.

"You've already drank too much alcohol today." Voldemort raised his eyebrows and said, "I even got rid of the digestive wine for you."

"Can I have water instead?" Harry politely pushed the glass away.

Voldemort showed a charming and quite gracious smile at the boy: "No." Harry moved the cup back dejectedly: "Today is my birthday." "It's a make-up." Voldemort added leisurely to help him .

Harry knew that he had to drink, so he took a sip reluctantly, and immediately the spicy hot water flowed into his stomach, the stomach pouch that had been soaked in alcohol before seemed to be suffocated by the heat at the moment, it was warm and very comfortable Already - except for the unpleasant taste of ginger in my mouth.

It was four and ten minutes before midnight.The portions were neither too much nor too little, and there was room for cake when Harry finished.Harry began to look forward to the chef's skills.However, in Voldemort's lazy smile, when the birthday cake was pushed out, Harry was stunned, and then his face turned red.

"What's this--?!"

It was a three-dimensional cake with the theme of Harry - the boy was wearing a black robe with diamond inlaid cuffs, and a complicated dark-pattern cloak was dragged on the ground, his cheeks were even flushed vividly, his open eyes were covered with transparent The pupils of the emeralds are made like real people, and due to the effect of the light, the eyes are extremely clear and energetic, but with a blush.He held his wand in one hand, but held the other hand forward, as if inviting.But behind him, there was a lion covered in flames, and the large golden red flame wings on its back surrounded the boy like two harbors for protection.

The lion is very lifelike, it looks at the direction the boy is looking at, and the round pupils are also made of emeralds, but they are wild and curious.The red tongue licked the edge of the mouth, looking dangerous and charming.

Harry almost jumped up. "Asshole, how can you make a cake like this?!"

"Of course..." Voldemort stood up, admiring around this artwork, he approached lightly, as if responding to the portrait on the cake, and sniffed lightly on the blushing cheeks: " For eating." His white and slender fingertips hung in front of the portrait's collar, lingeringly slid across the collarbone, along the shoulders and outstretched arms of the portrait, and retreated soundlessly.

Harry blushed, as if watching Voldemort molesting himself, it almost made his cheeks so hot, he gritted his teeth, "Bastard! What are you going to eat? Hmm?" Harry took out his wand, quickly He gave it a silent vanishing spell. "Oh, that's impossible." Voldemort stopped the boy's exasperated spell with a smile, and said triumphantly, "It's hard to find a sweet that I like, you are too cruel, little boy, I don't mind if you taste it together."

"Together, to taste?!" Harry took a deep breath, but Voldemort had already walked up to him, and whispered in his ear, "That's right, where do you say you should eat it?" His black eyes were blunt and deep Seeing that Harry's cheeks were getting redder and his teeth were clenching, he changed the subject with a smile: "Okay, this is just a work of art, the real cake is here."

With a flick of the bone-colored yew wood wand, the table was cleared, and an eight-inch round cake appeared on it, with a yawning icing lion cub on it, lying obediently on the original to sleep.The cake has a simple gold pattern around the edges.The white chocolate rose nearly buried the lion cub in it, and Harry saw it shake its head and sneeze.

A few chocolate candles swirled up from the surface, and after Voldemort flicked the wick carelessly, a golden candle light lit up.

"You can eat this, my boy."

Voldemort pushed Harry back into the chair and handed him a table knife. "I guess you need to make a wish," he said softly.

"That's about the same." Harry fell silent, blinking his eyes, staring at the lifelike lion cub.Close your eyes obediently, put your hands together, and pray silently in your heart.After more than ten seconds, he opened his eyes and struggled to blow out the candle.

For a brief moment, Voldemort didn't feel anything very obvious. He narrowed his eyes and sat down calmly.Watching the boy subconsciously avoid the little lion, he cut a piece of cake and put it on a plate and handed it over. Voldemort took it silently, and slowly cut it with a small fork.Noticing the surprised look on the boy's face when he ate it, he chuckled and said, "Is it delicious?"

Harry blinked and nodded.He almost solved the whole cake by himself.Finally, looking at the lost lion cub that was moved from the top of the cake to the plate, it was aggrieved and sniffing the unfamiliar environment around it-this made Harry a little bit reluctant to eat it.

"It's the same principle as the chocolate frog." Voldemort suddenly felt that it was a mistake to cast the spell himself to make it so agile. He raised the yew wood wand and pointed it, and the little lion stopped moving, just like ordinary icing.

Harry breathed a sigh of relief.The boy's appetite was so good that Voldemort stared at the first piece of cake on the plate with some difficulty, and reluctantly put a small piece into his mouth.The sudden sweet taste made Voldemort's mouth freeze.He put down his fork, deciding not to embarrass himself.

Perhaps sweet tooth lovers have a different palate than others? A trace of hesitation slipped across Voldemort's heart.

"Harry, do you like such a sweet taste very much?" He thought about it and asked in a tactful tone.

On the other hand, Harry paused under the table rubbing his stomach and grinning dryly. Voldemort understood what was happening almost immediately, and felt a little helpless: "Even if you guess it, you don't have to eat it all." Harry shook his head, "After all, you made it yourself, it would be a pity not to eat it." Voldemort waved The wand, the boy's chair was pulled close to him, he handed the wand to his left hand, and with his right hand, he reached into the boy's robe and gently helped Harry rub his stomach, with a touch of magic.

Harry suddenly felt much better, let out a long breath, and loosened his brows.

"How did you find out?" Voldemort couldn't help asking.It never occurred to him that Harry would be able to guess that he made the cake. "It doesn't look like a professional baker made it." Harry tried to be tactful. "Besides, people don't know what my Animagus looked like before—uh." Harry whispered, Voldemort He pressed lightly and retracted his hand.He caught a glimpse of the man's displeased expression, and held back a smile, "However, those patterns are still too tacky, aren't they?"

Voldemort glanced at the boy's tense expression, smirked, and raised his voice: "One more glass of ginger juice, with a higher concentration."

"Oh no!--"

"In the absence of drugs, this helps with digestion."

Of course, Voldemort didn't force Harry to drink all of the drink, and only took a few symbolic punishments. Harry stuck out his tongue straight out of the ginger juice, and Voldemort suppressed his anger by staring at the red, alluring tip of his tongue.He got up and led the boy to the window, watching the glorious scene of London at night.

"Harry..." "Huh?"

"Happy birthday." Voldemort said softly, his black eyes fixed on the boy, he let go of his hand, walked around behind Harry, raised his arm, and slid his fingertips gently across the boy's shoulder, "I know It's crazy, but I'm glad you were born on the last day of July 18 years ago."

Voldemort's fingertips followed Harry's arm and slowly hugged the boy tightly. He stared at the reflection of their figures on the glass, or they were standing on the highest point in London and sharing this gorgeous night scene together. "You are mine, little boy..." Voldemort whispered in the boy's ear, the voice was so soft, it seemed to have a fatal attraction.

"Voldemort..." Harry stared at their reflections, raised his hand to touch the side of the man's neck, and responded silently. Voldemort smiled, and so did his reflection on the glass, and he grabbed the boy's hands that were messing around his neck. "So, Harry, tell me, is there something you're hiding from me?"

The tone was extremely soft, but he did not distinguish between happiness and anger.

Harry was startled: "What?"

Voldemort kissed the boy's hair lightly, and said softly in Parseltongue: "Two days ago you went to the Ministry of Magic to buy a manor that was reserved half a year ago, and you used Muggle coins." Hissing The treacherous voice was extremely soft, "Harry, I heard that you even asked the owner of the manor to cancel the contract immediately, instead of waiting for a month for the magic to take effect naturally - even if you have to pay 10% more for this, and even if the other party still pays you a fee of [-]%. Be sluggish for at least a year."

Harry's breath caught. Voldemort noticed this, and he raised the corners of his lips silently: "You rarely have such a tough time, why didn't you wait an extra month? I was puzzled until I heard about your performance in the Order of the Phoenix today. "

"I don't understand that you are in such a rush to give wedding gifts to your good friends—as if you couldn't hand them over to them on that day." Voldemort's tone was ambiguous, "It makes me feel uneasy, Little boy."

"I don't want to ask what you're up to." Voldemort narrowed his eyes emotionlessly, "but if something unexpected happens to you—" he said softly, "I'll make all your friends To be buried with you."

"You can't—" Harry couldn't help but say.

Voldemort showed a chilling smile: "No, I can. If you live, I will grant your wish, and I will make wizards in the wizarding world respect and fear me." "But if you die, Harry, I will tear the Order of the Phoenix to shreds, and then use the darkest magic to bring you back from death." Like a snake baring its terrifying fangs, Voldemort condensed his real anger into terrifying force, and Harry opened his mouth , staring at the glass in front of him, groaning finely, with pale cracks spreading out.

Very good, this is indeed the crudest way to crack it, I'm afraid the Dark Lord has never been so inelegant in his life. "Well, there is one thing." Harry pursed his lips and sighed as Voldemort's almost red eyes looked on.

The author has something to say:

It means that the information before 2000 is really difficult to find, and the building of Gherkin was built in 2004.Harry was born on July 1980, 7, so he should be in 31. The author did not find the tallest building in Britain in an earlier period, so he replaced it with The Gherkin first.Let’s just think it was built early. It is said that this building was the headquarters building of Swiss Re in the early days.Interested relatives can spend a little bit.I heard that the top floor has now become a high-end restaurant and club.