[HP] Seven Nights Talk

Harry was ashamed and furious.

Of course, any man would feel that way after having had a decent, even memorable kiss with his enemy.That's not the point - the point is that he actually won the initiative in this matter!And even after the other party had already kissed him, he rushed over!Then I put my tongue... and finally fainted from being kissed in embarrassment!

He couldn't remember what he said, but his visual impressions seemed stronger than his auditory ones.The incident had become a silent image in his mind, every scene of how he pressed every step of the way and how Voldemort pampered him with indifference.In the end, when the other party turned against the customer, he only remembered the powerless refusal, the steaming heat, and the irresistible wonderful pleasure...

stop!

Harry told himself firmly, intending to ignore his blushing again.Now he really hopes that he can have selective amnesia, or that he can have the ability to hide himself completely and completely, so that no one can find out.And on the list of people he didn't want to be seen, Voldemort was undoubtedly at the top of the list.

Unfortunately, this is very difficult.

"Come on, Harry, you've been trying to play an ostrich since the beginning of summer vacation," said Voldemort cheerfully - completely ignoring that he was now a locket - and then he looked out the window at a white owl Getting closer, "Hedwig is back, do you think this is the first time your godfather has asked you to go to Grimmauld Place?"

"It doesn't matter how many times you do it." Harry said sullenly.He decided that before he could completely forget about it, he would never meet anyone he was familiar with, otherwise he would definitely reveal his truth.Besides, he should theoretically be staying on Privet Drive.The first because of Dumbledore's hopes, and the second because of his own fabricated, non-existent Muggle girlfriend.However, he felt that none of the above would be a problem if he could leave Voldemort alone on Privet Drive.

"You know, this is not okay, Harry." Voldemort obviously sensed what he was thinking, "I don't even dislike you, do I?"

Harry glared at the locket.Of course he knew what the other party meant, that is, he fainted in the end.This gave Voldemort an excellent excuse to prod him when he saw fit, such as now. "Yeah, I'm not as experienced as you!" he said gruffly.

Although this statement is completely contrary to the truth, Voldemort will not admit it. "Both each other," he replies with a smirk, "but to be honest, I think you're way above normal when you're drunk." Brash and impulsive, but undeniably delicious.

Harry wasn't sure if this was a new mocking pattern, so he decided to ignore it and prepared another topic: "Well, since the second year is considered a pass, what about the third year's requirements? Why? You don't know, and neither do I?"

"Reaper probably wants to shorten our preparation time." Voldemort said indifferently.

Harry could hear his tone, and couldn't help feeling suspicious: "Why are you not worried at all? Don't you think that according to this development trend, the future will be very pessimistic?"

How can you not be optimistic!Voldemort said something in his heart.In that regard, his premonition wasn't bad.Of course, he didn't say that out of his mouth. "I think if a bed can do the best, then the request is definitely not difficult."

He meant something, and Harry blushed again.He seemed to remember that before he passed out, the hands on his waist seemed to have started to move, and the places they passed were as hot as fire. "Shut up!" He was furious because of his clear body memory.

"That's not what you said back then." Voldemort reminded him deliberately. "You also offered to teach me how to kiss. Maybe I can expect that you will be so proactive in the next situation? After all, it really saves a lot of time."

Harry blushed, because he remembered it too, and it seemed that he really said those words himself. "Don't remind me of this," he said through gritted teeth, "I'm just too drunk!"

"Oh," Voldemort said clearly, dragging his voice slightly, "then I only have one hope, don't leave me a toothmark next time. Can you satisfy me, Harry?" He turned sideways, and the light Better illuminated locket.

"...what?" Harry glared at him.Only now did he notice that there was really a trace on the upper front of the locket.Like a crack, but it shouldn't be there. "You said this is..." He couldn't continue.Could this be the scar he had bitten Voldemort's mouth?

"Congratulations, you guessed it right," Voldemort replied.

It finally dawned on Harry that he was carrying a real person with him now, not an object.And thinking of what he had done... This feeling made his whole body boil. "You can obviously...can be cured in one go! You kept it on purpose!" He was embarrassed at first, then angry.

"I just thought it would be better to get your attention that way," said Voldemort, as if it wasn't him who had the mouth wound at all. "I think I should warn you, it's rude, girls or not."

Harry was desperate.He completely underestimated the thickness of the opponent's skin, just like he overestimated his own ability to bear it. "It's as if I once did this to a girl..." he said unhappily.

He didn't expect the words to be useful, but what followed was a suffocating silence.That didn't change until the heat on Harry's face faded.

Which sensitive nerve has he touched again?thought Harry.He wasn't in the mood for guessing games right now, so he didn't think much of it.In addition, he sincerely hoped that the God of Death would not create any new problems for their third night—although he himself felt that the probability was unlikely.

Although it was rare for Harry to think that he should just stay in Privet Drive, his uncle and aunt didn't think so.They had negotiated that big rig deal last summer and bought a villa in Wawrinka.Harry wouldn't have thought much of that, were it not for the fact that they wanted to host Aunt Marge there for the rest of the summer.The Dursleys obviously don't want them to meet (they'll have a hard time explaining their change in attitude towards Harry), and neither does Harry himself.You must know that it is common for Aunt Marge to beat him with a cane, and it is also common for dogs to bite him, and if Harry blows up she will probably pay the price of being judged by the Ministry of Magic.So Harry thought he'd better write a letter to his godfather before the Dursleys went on vacation.

Sirius wrote back quickly, saying how much he would love to see Harry, and happily telling him that he had a great birthday present for Harry.But for some reason, Harry felt that his tone was slightly different from that of the previous summer vacation, as if he hadn't told him something.

The incident had seemed like an illusion in the days leading up to Harry's arrival at 12 Grimmauld Place.Everything is fine, Sirius took him to the amusement park that he failed to go to last time, and Harry had a great time.Sirius's culinary skills also seem to have made great progress, and the roast goose and oxtail soup he made are quite good.Finally Harry found out that what Sirius had said was a great gift was a brand new Firebolt, and he couldn't be happier.Voldemort seldom spoke, but Harry thought it was a good thing that the crack in the locket was slowly healing itself.

On the night of his birthday, Sirius sent Harry upstairs to bed early.Harry didn't think anything was wrong until he wanted to talk to Ron.He had only intended to go downstairs to use the fireplace, but found something else—the drawing-room door was shut tightly, which is not usually the case.

Harry stood still, feeling something was wrong.He cast a spell tentatively, but it bounced off the door. "Kreacher?" he called softly.

There was a slight pop in the air, and the house-elf appeared before him. "Kreacher is here. What do you need, Master Harry?"

"Who's here tonight?" Harry asked it.

The house-elf staggered back and forth, a look of disgust on his wrinkled face, but quickly covered it up. "A lot of unwelcome guests at Black's old house." It knew Harry didn't like some of its descriptions, so it quickly jumped over: "Kreacher only knows a few."

"Tell me," Harry urged it.If he was not mistaken, this situation should be a gathering of the Order of the Phoenix.And the names Kreacher reported also verified his conjecture, Dumbledore, Lupine, Moody... "But what are they here for?" He couldn't think of the purpose of the Order of the Phoenix gathering at this time.

"We're discussing something." Kreacher said quickly, "This is the third time, about every three or four days."

Harry's mind raced.That's what happened over the summer, and probably why he felt there was something Sirius hadn't told him. "Do you know what it is, Kreacher?" he asked hopefully, since Sirius probably didn't remember telling Kreacher not to spill the beans.

As it turned out, the house-elf looked at him with green eyes the size of tennis balls. "Of course Kreacher knows." It said, there seemed to be a kind of enthusiasm in the tone, or some kind of excitement, "Miss Bella is out of prison."

Harry froze in place as if struck by lightning. "...what?" he asked in disbelief. "You mean Bellatrix Lestrange? How did she get out?"

"This Kreacher doesn't know." The house elf admitted, but his tone still sounded rather cheerful. "And her husband and her husband's brother, the two Mr. Lestrange. There are probably others, but Kreacher doesn't know all."

Harry felt cold hands and feet.This is definitely not a legal release from prison, otherwise it is impossible for the "Daily Prophet" not to publish such a big matter, and it is impossible for Hermione and Ron not to mention it to him.That is to say, this is a large-scale jailbreak in the dark!As for the mastermind...he didn't want to go to Ron at all now, but asked through gritted teeth in his heart: "Is this the birthday present you specially prepared for me? Death Eaters escaped from prison on a large scale?"