[HP] 47 Days Transformation

After a while, the tone was playful, but the smile he provoked had a dangerous color, the already dark eyes were covered with a layer of haze, and the word "go home" was like a reverse scale, reactivating the malice in the blood.

With his back to Ovi, he couldn't see his roommate's expression clearly at the moment.

"If you want, you can come to my house as a guest." Slytherin still warmly extended the invitation.

"Thank you." Tom nodded, his etiquette was impeccable, and he covered up the coldness behind the mask with a perfect smile.

Harry didn't hear from him at all, as if he had evaporated from this world.

The young Demon King was sitting on the bed, playing with the slender and hard wand between his fingertips, bowing his head and whispering incantations from time to time, and one or two sparks were released from the tip of the wand.It seems to be casual and happy, but in fact it is absent-minded.

第十个月了。从1938年9月1日到今天1939年6月，将近十个月三百天，哈利已经消失了十个月。

Ten months is enough time for a teenager to learn how to calmly face this fact, learn how to choke all the wailing and roaring in his throat when his thoughts pass by, and learn to remind himself——Harry Potter and Tom Lee It didn't matter to Del.

Hogwarts in June is very lively and noisy.Not only because of the hot summer, but also because of the two months of vacation that followed.

Home, the word doesn't sound so good to Tom.That meant he was going back to the empty house without Harry, not even a nanny.But he came back paranoid.

Dusty furniture, dim light, fermented cheese in the kitchen, dead bluegrass on the window sill... Such a house is most suitable as a habitat for vampires in fairy tales.

Tom looked at everything in front of him calmly, and sneered, as if this was the only way to relieve the depression in his chest.

The door to Harry's room was open as it had been ten months ago.He didn't like to hide it very much, or in other words, Harry had always been dull, careless and simple.So simple that as long as he says this and pretends like this, he will easily believe it.

The room is very tidy.A clean and tidy bed, no fancy lamps, a bedside table with ink bottles and pens... Harry's life is very simple.It is hard to imagine that he was able to buy a house 11 years ago when he was only 20 years old.

Tom squinted his eyes, and his dark and pure pupils were so obscure that people couldn't see his emotions. The suspicion had already taken root in his mind, and it was difficult to get rid of it.

Harry appeared too suspiciously and disappeared too suspiciously.Appearing out of thin air and disappearing out of thin air.The young man who had learned to eliminate the influence of emotions felt more and more suspicious of Harry—maybe from the beginning, that person's purpose was not pure?

Tom paused, took a deep look at the withered pot of bluegrass on the window sill, and raised his hand to push it out of the window sill.With a crisp sound, the ceramic pot was shattered, and the spilled soil could not cover the blackened roots.Tom smiled suddenly, showing his well-shaped teeth.

Tom didn't know why he came back. Even if Parkinson's purpose was not pure, going to his house was still a good choice.Even though Tom refused to admit it, he couldn't refute it. In the depths of his subconscious mind, he still expected and waited for the day when the green-eyed man would open the door.

It's...humble.

The young man couldn't help laughing, and the muscles on his arms tightened accordingly. The cold iron pincers clicked, and the delicate flower buds fell to the ground.

Tom picked up the flowers that were about to bloom and played with his fingertips, but he couldn't help but narrow his eyes: he must get rid of this... dizzy and uncontrollable emotions.

But horoscopes always like to plan unexpected developments.Before Tom's heart had completely cooled down, he pushed Harry to Tom again.

It was the last days of the holiday when Tom saw Harry.Fast forward to September, and summer is still hovering over London, but Harry is wearing a leather jacket.In another reality in time and space, it is still the harsh winter of January.Twelve months here, but a little over two days there.

Just like the last time Harry came back, he was always tired and weak.The young demon king scoffed at all the psychological preparations he had made before, because his heart beat faster for this.

But Tom was also keenly aware of the flash of defense in that person's eyes and the instant tension of his body.

"I... I'm sorry, let me take a break, okay?" Harry stood at the door, looking away in embarrassment.He thought he could tell Tom from Voldemort, but he couldn't, and besides, they were one person.

Look, he doesn't even want to talk to you for a minute!

Tom smiled, turned sideways, and let the stairs blocked by him: "Of course."

Harry could no longer care about the quilt that he hadn't slept in for a long time, and collapsed, feeling drowsy.

After he wounded Voldemort, he moved quickly with Dumbledore's Army before he realized that the Horcrux had been destroyed.The biggest difference between wizards and humans is that they can carry things that humans cannot.Therefore, hastily shifting positions, which is self-destructive for human beings, has become their best choice.For two days, they escaped the detection of the Death Eaters with a high degree of mental tension, found a piece of soil in the cracks, and took root without hesitation.

Those who are able work harder, the greater the ability, the greater the responsibility, the more tiring, and before Harry was allowed to think about anything, he had already fallen asleep.He was so tired that he didn't even have time to think about the pain in his body.

Tom walked up the steps step by step, passing his hands over the smooth handrails that had been wiped down. The cool wood made his skin very comfortable.

Pushing open the door of Harry's room, even with the "squeak" sound, did not wake up the person who fell headfirst on the bed.

Tom really wanted to shake him awake and questioned him sharply, but in the end he raised the corners of his lips, condensed all his emotions, suppressed them in his dark pupils, and closed the door to Harry's room.

Tsk, the young demon king fretfully covered his eyes, finally revealing his ferocious nature.Why can't you... can't get rid of the emotion that is easily influenced by others?

Tom tilted his head and rubbed his hand on the "Best Potions".

The young man pondered.It would be great if there was a container that could store emotions... Get rid of Harry's influence on him, and he would definitely become more rational and stronger. !

His eyes darkened a bit, and he locked the "Selected Potions" in the drawer.

No, he needs a stronger instruction book.

☆, September 1939, 8

If a qualified Slytherin must be good at reading people's hearts, then Tom is undoubtedly an excellent Slytherin.

Or maybe Gryffindor was just too bad at disguising it, and Tom was keenly aware of Harry's discomfort.

"I'm full. Let's go back to my room first. Put the dishes away, and I'll wash them later." Harry pulled the chair away and fled from the dining table.

"No, I'll wash it." The handsome and pretty boy replied with a smile, the sliced ​​meat under the fork had been smashed.

As keen and suspicious as him, Tom naturally noticed the alienation and indifference between the two.

But what can he do?

Tom chuckled and lifted the fork out of the pile of mashed meat.

Harry drew the curtains and collapsed on the bed wearily.

He can't be at ease.The child's handsome face reminded him almost all the time, reminded him of the ever-perfect Dark Lord on the time jumper, and told him that nothing had changed.He felt that he had fallen into a dead circle, he couldn't make up his mind to let go and leave, and he couldn't get closer without putting aside his grudges.Struggling in such a constant frontier, he told himself dying—yes, there will be hope.

XNUM X Year X NUM X Month.

Tom can't predict the future, but Harry is stuck in the quagmire and doesn't care about it.The fate chart pulled the criss-crossing lines of fate, thinking to myself, and murmured quietly: It's time.

It wasn't until the first V1 bomb was dropped from the sky and exploded in the urban area of ​​London that Harry suddenly realized it.

Even though he has been educated at Hogwarts since he was 11 years old and is not very familiar with Muggle history, the scars of that time are unforgettable for the British and history.

World War II, and the bombing of London.

During World War II, Hitler released the Sea Lion plan, and the Luftwaffe bombed London for more than 76 days and nights.The empire on which the sun never sets, which took a hundred years to build, became ruins in 76 days.

After only a few seconds of thinking, the vibration from the ground had not subsided, and there was another loud noise. Then, the shells slammed on the ancient land like raindrops.

The house began to shake violently, and the dust from the corners of the wall swished downwards.The light bulbs hanging from the ceiling have been cut off and could fall at any moment.

Screams filled the entire city in an instant, and the heart-piercing cries followed the buzzing of the plane, tearing apart the peaceful background of London.

"Boom!" The loud noise seemed to be in the ear, and there was a gap in the hearing.The floor began to shake violently again, and it seemed that it would be lifted in the next second.

Harry hastened to hold on to the wall.This was the first time he really felt the power of Muggles.

Muggle wars are more terrifying than wizard wars.That kind of death of all kinds caused by the use of cold weapons can send shivers down the spine more than the death curse.The kind of power that ignores life really makes people feel small and helpless.

But Harry only paled slightly.

He was determined not to die.Even if he encounters such a natural disaster*, he will definitely not die.Because the horoscope will never allow him to disappear in the past.Bound by the rules of the present and the future, even a horoscope cannot erase his existence.As Hermione said: "Your existence cannot be erased. Harry, no matter how you change the trajectory of history, your horoscope cannot kill you. Your existence is the biggest bargaining chip."

And that kid, he wasn't.

The ugliness of nature emerges from the most hidden corners, like a flood that bursts a bank, uncontrollable and irreversible...

"Harry!" Tom leaned on the handrail and walked down the stairs quickly, his slightly frowned brows concealing the uneasiness that surged from the bottom of his heart.

Tom took a deep breath, his temple throbbing.He wanted to pull Harry's wrist: "Let's go to the wizarding world!"

Before he could take a step, he saw the man take a step back, avoiding his outstretched hand.Tom's hand was frozen in mid-air, and it felt cold even in the height of summer in August.

Harry suddenly felt suffocated, his heart beat rapidly, and the blood vessels behind his ears seemed to burst at any moment.

The darkest part of the mind is aroused by the fuse, like a rattlesnake imprisoned in a bamboo basket, once awakened by the sound of the flute, it begins to sway uncontrollably.

Harry blinked hard.

Yes, he is from the future and will not die in the past.But this child is different. He belongs to this era and is not protected by rules.

As long as he... stays in this house, he may... die.

If that child... Tom Riddle had died in the bombing, there would have been no Voldemort in the future, his parents would not have died, Sirius would not have left, Dumbledore would not have placed such a heavy burden on him shoulder.As long as Tom dies, he can just be Harry Potter the Ball Seeker, he can no longer be the savior, he can not bear the lives of so many relatives and friends, he can sleep well...

Now is undoubtedly a good opportunity.

Even for adult wizards, it is difficult to say that they will definitely survive under the shells, let alone ignorant wizard cubs.

Harry didn't even need to make any killing moves, as long as he stood by and watched.

Harry couldn't stop the trembling of his lower lip, his throat seemed to be stuck with a thorn, and no matter how hard he swallowed, it was uncomfortable.

It's as if the siren is singing in the ear, constantly bewitching:

"Yes, just, kill him."

"boom!"

Finally, a shell fell straight across the street, and the splashed reinforced concrete scattered like fireworks in all directions.

Naturally, the house was not spared.

"Armor protection." Out of fighting instinct, without much thought, the spell came out of Harry's mouth, and the cement block the size of a palm was blocked by an invisible barrier before it hit Harry.

Tom, who was standing beside him with his head down all the time, quickly moved away. He still didn't know how to use the spell "armor protection".

However, the shaking of the house did not decrease, on the contrary, it became bigger and bigger, as if the building blocks at the bottom were pulled out and slowly collapsed.

Harry gripped his wand, and the hard chrome handle ached, and his heart ached.

He couldn't stop himself from looking at Tom, at the Dark Lord who was only a child.

"Armor for protection!" The child drew out his wand and said the spell he had just heard, without success of course.With a cold face, Tom dodged the falling stones in some embarrassment.

Tom gritted his teeth hard, chewing on the salty rust taste in his mouth, and raised his wand again.

As expected of the Dark Lord.Harry watched the tip of the child's staff flicker, propping up the barrier to block the falling lime cement, and he couldn't help but provoke a wry smile.So he raised his wand too, and pointed at the child.

The spell stopped immediately.

Harry opened his mouth, but his voice caught in his throat.There was no sound.

Tom held his wand up, breathing a little from the protective barrier that had been propped up, and he just stood there, not avoiding the point of Harry's wand pointing at him, just looking at Harry.

Harry struggled to meet the eyes of the younger kid.Those swarthy eyes were deep and unable to see any emotional fluctuations, and even the smile that always evoked stiffened.Tom, looking at him without any expression, not surprised, not complaining, not even angry.

"Harry..." Tom looked at him and called his name, even his tone was the same as usual, as if smiling, "You...don't want me?"

Among the ruins, in his eyes, the Dark Lord, who was just a child, raised his wand numbly to prop up a protective layer that could be broken at any time, raised his head and asked him: Do you want me?

Harry felt like a fish thrown on the dry bank, trying to keep his mouth wide open to breathe.

Think of Hermione, think of Ron, think of Ginny, think of Dumbledore's Army, think of the real Dark Lord that day, think of Harry Potter!he said to himself.

Even if he is the Dark Lord, he is still just a child now. How long can a first-year child support an advanced spell?The tip of the yew wand trembled, and the light was completely dimmed.

The beams of the house were finally overwhelmed, and large pieces of cement fell straight down, blocking the door leading to the outside world arbitrarily.

Well, I can't even go out.Harry smiled wryly, and lowered his wand, which was pointing at the child.There's no need to cast a spell, anyway...he can't escape.

Tom clenched the wand in his hand, and the turbid waves rolling in his eyes couldn't be discerned because of the intense color in his eyes. The spell that he was chewing repeatedly in his heart had already flowed to his mouth, but he heard the man say:

"sorry."

☆, September 1939, 8

It's like the world is going to be destroyed.

He didn't know if it was the shaking ground at his feet, or the illusion brought to him by the bone-chilling "I'm sorry", which made him feel that this was the end.

The beautiful and tall child stood in a house that was about to collapse at any moment, his black jade-like hair was in a mess, and his originally neat clothes were also messy and tattered.Even in such a state of embarrassment, the child just looked at him steadfastly and stopped talking, arrogantly like a lone wolf sticking to his territory.

Harry looked into the child's eyes as deep as a pool of cold, and felt that he was still in the Pensieve, following behind Dumbledore, looking at the 11-year-old indifferent boy who grew up in an orphanage and said:

——Idon't believe you.

There must be an invisible hand strangling his neck, making it extremely difficult for him to even breathe.There must be a turbid mental gas lingering around his head, making his thinking so slow.

It was hard for that child to learn to smile and hug; it was not easy for that child to learn to care and to have hope; it was hard for that child to learn to trust and to keep... Harry stared blankly at the child. See.No matter how Tom grows up, in his eyes, he is just a child.Just like in the eyes of parents, no matter how naughty a child is, he is still innocent at first.

He is like a Christian kneeling in a church and constantly repenting, praying helplessly and at a loss for an unknown turnaround.

The connecting flight did not arrive, but the next round of bombing came.

"Tom!" Harry couldn't help but exclaimed as he saw the beautiful decorative lamp falling straight down, almost attacking Tom.

Tom, who was already a boy, squinted his eyes, weighing the pros and cons of success and failure between flashes and flints. He pursed his lips, and when he stopped, the iron hook of the decorative lamp fell off his arm, leaving a bloodstain.

Harimin knew he should stand by and watch, but his legs jumped out of his mind's control and he ran straight towards the child.He didn't want to... see Tom look that way again, that lonely look that was isolated from the world and not understood.

The young man covered his arms, his drooping bangs covered the madness and sorrow in his eyes, and the wand in his hand was tightly clenched, waiting for that person to come over step by step.

He clearly wanted to kill him, but he couldn't see him being injured.Harry... this is the Achilles' heel!

Tom opened his mouth and pulled out a cold smile, showing his dark fangs.Like a wild beast driven into a desperate situation, the whole body exudes stubbornness, madness and sorrow, curled up in the darkness, waiting for that person to approach.

The descendant of Slytherin, who was so perceptive and suspicious, could fully understand that person's thoughts without too many prompts.That person, he was familiar with like a part of his own body.

He should have known that to Harry, he was an unpleasant existence!No, or rather, in this world, not many people are happy with his existence.

If you don't like it, why bring him back?Why pretend to give him a home?Why are you looking at him so calmly?Why alienate again after getting close?How can you taste the coolness gratefully when you are used to the tongue of rich clothes and jade food?

Since you abandoned me, how could I not reciprocate?

Tom looked up sharply, meeting Harry's eyes.The pupils, as sharp as a gray wolf's, dilated and focused on Harry. The grief and sorrow overflowing from the pupils made Harry suffocate again.

Harry looked at the child's bloodshot and red eyes, and gritted his teeth hard.

"Damn it!" Harry finally gave in, and the red-eyed lion punched the wall hard, increasing the unbearable speed of the wall.The corners of his lips were also bitten hard.He didn't care about that, he looked after his child and stretched out his arms.

Not even Tom himself reacted.Very quickly, he leaned over and was hugged. The awkward posture made Tom very uncomfortable, but he didn't pull the wound.

"Hold me tight, let's get out!" Harry almost yelled.But the roar was also so inconspicuous in the background of the bombardment.He licked his chapped lips, his eyes were red, and he almost had the urge to cry.

He knows what his choice means.It means that he abandoned his relatives, his friends, and pushed them on a harder and harder path, just because of his selfish kindness.

"Is it worth it?" Hermione once asked, is it worth sacrificing 20 or even 40 years of life to influence a Voldemort who is impossible to soften.

Is it worth sacrificing the safety of friends and family for the life of the culprit?

And Harry would still reply like that: "I don't know if it's worth it, but I think I should."

"sorry."

The muscles in Tom's right arm holding the wand had begun to tense and gather strength, but suddenly became stiff at this sentence.

"I'm sorry." As if redeemed, Harry kissed the child's hair with red eyes.

Tom was held in Harry's arms, looking up at Harry's pale chin, at Harry's tensed masseter muscles, and at the red corners of Harry's eyes.

Even though he was in a state of embarrassment, the young boy who was still beautiful suddenly smiled, full of life like the sun breaking through the clouds.

But Harry didn't know, Tom under the smile slowly retracted the wand that was on his waist, and there was a faint green light at the top of the wand.

Maybe he doesn't know Defense Curses, but Killing Curses are... interesting to him.

Harry was so innocent after all.The defensiveness against the Dark Lord still failed to overpower the sincerity of Gryffindor's nature.

Yes, Tom learned to smile and hug, and at the same time learned to pretend and please; he learned to care and hope, but he also learned to be jealous and desperate;

If you don't want me anymore, then I will still hold you, even if I go to hell, I will hold you.

Harry held Tom in one arm and his holly wand in the other, ready to Apparate.Naturally, his current magic power is not as strong as that of Dumbledore at that time, and it would be a great risk to cast a spell by himself, let alone bring a wounded child with him.

After only four or five seconds of hesitation, the god of death had already landed on top of his head.

London Street NO.15 had already escaped the previous round of bombing by luck, but had no energy to cope with the next round of more intensive bombing.

The ceiling finally failed and collapsed to Harry's astonishment.

"Torn apart!" A large piece of the ceiling was shattered by the magic wand and scattered into fragments, touching a momentary crisis.

"Let's go out first," Harry hugged Tom's arm tightly, "don't be afraid."

"...Hmm." The child who rested his head on Harry's neck paused before replying in a muffled voice.

The beams of the house were broken, and the supporting walls were horribly cracked.The floor under his feet was shaking constantly. In this case, it was a problem to even stand firm, let alone perform apparation.

The gate has been blocked by collapsed boulders, blocking the way to survive.If it was a Muggle, it would be close to death, but they were nature's favorites.

Another split.

The door had been deformed by the weight of the wall and couldn't be opened, but Harry didn't dare to use it to rip apart.After one spell, the pillars supporting the weight disappear, and the entire wall may collapse.

Harry could already feel the wreckage of the house falling against his back.I'm afraid that if they stay there for just one more second, they will be buried under the rubble.

"Hold me tight!" Harry said to the peaceful child in his arms, casting a defensive spell on himself and Tom, his green eyes blazing startlingly.

"Torn apart!"

Since he is protected by the rules of time, he is the greatest defense tool, so what is there to be afraid of?

Almost immediately, at the same time as the door panel shattered, a corner of the six-meter-high villa began to collapse.

Although armor protection is effective, there is always a time limit and a time limit. When Harry rushed out of the room holding Tom, Harry also left a few fine bloodstains on his cheeks.

But before they had time to catch their breath, a V4 bomb fell directly on the body of NO.15 on London Street.

Everything was so quick and brief, even giving Harry just enough time to react, he subconsciously hugged the child in his arms.

"Boom!" It seemed to explode in the ears, and even the nerves in the ears ached sharply.Even if he is as powerful as a wizard, he still cannot escape the sorrow of the *mortal.The strong air current created by the shells swept Harry up and threw him down heavily.Harry only had time to hug Tom tightly, and the wand in his hand fell into the rubble and disappeared.

Harry had the illusion that every bone in his body was crushed.Even my mind was in a trance, and my chest was in severe pain.Probably a broken rib.

At least he won't die.Harry smiled slightly, and struggled to get up from the shaking.

"Harry, I can..." Tom's eyes were dark, and he was about to let go of Harry's arm.

"Hold me tight!" Harry emphasized again, even breathing so rapidly, "I'm not going to die, believe me, I can't die!"

The eager tone made Tom's mouth and nose suffocate, and the blood all over his body began to flow backwards.

As soon as the words fell, a bomber flew over their heads at low altitude like a stunt, and a yellow smoke was pulled out from behind the tail, and the pungent sulfur gas spread over the surface.

Harry hurriedly covered the mouth and nose of the child in his arms, and with the other hand began to rub the dropped wand on the ground.

Harry's vision was blurred by the yellow smoke, and the usually gentle young man couldn't help but swear, the veins on both sides of his temples bulged.

A wizard without a wand is worse than an ordinary person!

Can't stay any longer! The effect of the poisonous fog is bigger than he imagined.

Harry finally gave up his wand, turned and ran towards the London bomb shelter.

The young man's body was not much bigger than the boy's, but he actually protected Tom tightly.

He only wore ordinary rubber slippers on his feet, but he dared to step on the scorched lawn with his protruding toes and heels.

The bombers hovered over London unwillingly, taking a break and preparing for the next round of bombing.Planes equipped with poison gas flew by with impunity.

Harry strode across the war zone unprotected, holding Tom to his chest.

Since he chose to give up on him before, protecting him is also a kind of self-punishment.

Anyway, he won't die.

☆, September 1939, 8 [Part 27]

The background is gray and vast, and the bombarded London is in flames, and the whole London is in desolate red and black.

It was almost evening, but Hitler's carnival had just begun.London is like a stage, helplessly allowing them to compete on the types and styles of bombs.

This is the real war between Muggles.Even wizards are horribly insignificant under this roaring plane, casting a huge shadow of death.Dodging the shells and stepping all the way, the same kind of broken arms stretched out from the rubble, which was shocking.The walls are dying, the bricks are falling, the gaps are screaming, the bullet holes are bleeding, and the originally lush old trees have lost their integrity, leaning and trembling, trying to avoid the disaster of artillery fire.

Harry had lost count of how many times he had gotten up from the ground.His thoughts have been so blurred that he can't even distinguish the direction, like a programmed robot, stubbornly fulfilling his mission.

The fate chart clicked dissatisfied.Indeed, it cannot kill Harry's existence, but the power given to it by history allows him to punish time travelers who want to violate history to the greatest extent.The fate chart moved.

As long as it doesn't die, it's fine.

"Harry..." A head rested on Harry's neck, whispering softly beside Harry's buzzing ears, like a soft-furred cub, "You...won't give up on me... ..."

No matter how sensible the words were, only Tom knew how disturbed he was by the answer.Rather than being wary and cautious, Slytherin prefers to take the initiative.

Therefore, he put himself in the position of the weak, pretending to be pitiful.He said: You won't give up on me, will you?

The eyes of the pretending weak man were dark, but the gloomy eyes were completely different from the soft tone. The rain and mist had been compressed into ice and snow in the bottom of his eyes.He rested his head on the young man's bare neck, feeling the young man's chaotic pulse.

His gums began to itch uncontrollably.

Harry's ears were beating like drums, and the humming made the child's words very indistinct.

--What is he saying?

Harry blinked with difficulty, the eyelids stuck together by sweat and dust had to be peeled off with great perseverance.

If it wasn't for the protection of space-time rules, I'm afraid he would be dead by now, right?

Harry's reaction was slow, but he could vaguely feel the child's emotions.

he is afraid?

Harry felt that his arm was as heavy and stiff as plaster. Without any extra strength, he just tilted his head, and his chin rubbed against the child's no longer smooth black hair, using movements instead of words.

- don't be afraid.

Tom tightened his arms around Harry's neck, and the weak warmth from the young man made him not want to let go.

The little boy buried his head deeper, inhaled greedily, and extracted the smell of that person from the smoke of fireworks.

——You admit it, you won't give up on me...

Tom buried his face against Harry's neck, hiding the smile that rose from his lips, and the bared fangs.

Slytherin's approach to commitment has always been the same, semi-forced, one-sided, stubborn and pathetic.

Maybe it's only been less than 10 minutes, but the time seems to be stuck, the second hand seems to be limping, prolonging the pain and death infinitely.

Harry dared not let Tom poke a finger out of his shelter.The shell attacks were so intensive that they seemed to want to cover London with gunpowder. If it weren't for the rigid protection of time rules, there might be no scum left of the savior.

Harry held Tom's arm tightly. The weight of an 11-year-old child was nothing to a strong young man, but under the hail of bullets, it was the burden of life.

Fate chart finally saw enough teasing like a cat teasing a mouse, it trembled excitedly, smiled and said nothing.

The bomber over London suddenly lowered its body, and the circular cannon barrels under the wings were suddenly lit up.After bombing large buildings, they switched to smaller, denser and faster bullets, aiming at smaller and smaller targets.

Looking at the overwhelming bullets, Harry could still vaguely recall the scene when he was a child standing far away, hoping for Dali to play the game. In the game, the spaceship controlled by Dali was also like this, shooting chug, releasing bullets and rays.

The arms are already numb, the pain of the ribs pinching the internal organs has subsided due to habit, and even the skin has lost the sense of touch. Only the cold metal sinking into the flesh can arouse a shiver.If he hadn't realized that he couldn't die, Harry would have suspected that he was already dead.

Harry was finally beginning to feel that something was wrong.He'd thought so for a long time, but he trusted Hermione's deduction too much.

——Your existence is the biggest bargaining chip.

If Hermione's deduction is wrong, if the horoscope doesn't care at all...

Harry tried to speak, but the blood rushing up his throat didn't give him a chance - a bullet went straight into his lung.

Harry's feet gave way, and his knees hit the ground with shards of glass - more bullets went into his limbs.

"Harry!"

Harry gasped, his throat making a "grunt" sound from the spilled blood.He rested his forehead on the ground, arched his thin back, and outlined a shallow spine shape on his clothes.Between the knees, the back and the forehead, there is a place big enough for a boy of eleven or twelve.

Tom felt the weight on his body in a daze. He heard the roaring bullets by his ears, the sky covered by gunpowder smoke in front of his eyes, and the smell of blood on the tip of his nose.

This is the first time that the boy is not rejoicing for the blood, this is the first time that Tom starts to fear the coming of death, this is the first time that he is ecstatic to feel the breath of life.

"Harry! Harry!" The young devil eagerly shouted his name, struggling to stand up from the confinement.

"Don't move..." The man spoke in a terrible voice, with blood rolling down his throat, he groaned, "Don't go out...I won't die, stay under me..."

Harry entrusted his whole body weight to the piece of skin on his forehead that was close to the ground, and the picture in front of him had already started to distort. The gray and red battlefield was spinning, showing a strange color, grotesque and grotesque.Ron appeared, and he took a closer look at Hermione's face again.Another shake, and Hermione was twins again...

This state has a very good term called dying.

In a trance, there was a small hand like a beast's claw, tightly wrapped around his neck, his head rubbed against his ear, and the voice seemed to come from the sky: "...you admitted it! You will not give up on me!"

Tom?

Harry pulled the corners of his mouth into a trancelike smile and closed his eyes.

There seemed to be something swelling in the chest, and it was all over the mouth and nose.He knew Harry, but he had never seen through Harry.

He could never guess Harry's purpose.Obviously one second he could cruelly stand by and watch, but the next second he could sacrifice his life recklessly.This made the young Slytherin feel a kind of anger at being tricked and teased.

But that anger has nowhere to vent.Right in front of him, even his breathing began to weaken, and the beating of the aorta in his neck was undetectable. Right in front of his eyes, Harry's soul was losing its luster little by little.

"Harry, don't close your eyes!" Tom shouted at him angrily, using the anger in his eyes to cover up the panic from his soul, "Look