Chapter 33. A Leisurely Day Out

Voldemort generously offered Harry a variety of magical world snacks, including Chocolate Frogs, Sugar Quills, Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans, and more. Harry secretly thought, Great, now he had both Sugar and Daddy.

"I never knew these snacks were so delicious." This was the first time Harry had tasted snacks like these. He had never been given any as a child, and the most he had seen of snacks were the wrappers left behind at the homes of assassination targets. Harry couldn't remember ever being curious about what snacks tasted like.

He opened a Chocolate Frog and saw a card with Dumbledore's picture on it. Before he could turn it around, the card was snatched away by Voldemort. Harry hadn't even finished his chocolate when the blue, pentagon-shaped card was returned to him, with the figure on it now wearing a mask and labeled "Lord Voldemort, the Greatest Dark Artist."

He looked up, meeting Voldemort's smug expression.

On another weekend, the September weather was no longer stifling hot, and the sun was shining. Voldemort said he wanted to take Harry to an amusement park to make up for his missed childhood experiences.

"An amusement park? I've never been to one before," Harry was excited. He recalled how he had yearned for a visit to an amusement park when he was a child. Then he remembered something and asked, "Father, have you never been to one either?"

Voldemort replied, "No, I've never been. Why would a Dark Lord need to go to an amusement park?"

Harry had a sudden idea, "How about Father takes a Youth Potion? We can go together."

So, a little later, the person facing Harry transformed into another fifteen-year-old, with slightly more youthful features than an adult but still undeniably handsome. His slender figure and height were just a bit taller than Harry's. Harry could look straight into his eyes by tilting his head slightly. The change in height allowed Harry to observe this person from a perspective he had never experienced before...

Harry couldn't help but stare in fascination. "What... should I call you? Calling you 'Father' might not be appropriate now."

The other teenager hesitated for a moment, then used his wand to write a name in the air:

Tom V. Riddle.

"Just call me Tom," he said.

"I think you don't like that name?" Harry asked, hesitating.

"It's fine," Tom replied generously.

Harry was puzzled; wasn't his middle name supposed to be Marvolo? How did it become V?

"Is the letter 'V' an abbreviation of Voldemort?"

Tom didn't answer, and his gaze remained on the glowing gothic letters floating in the air, specifically on the 'V' in the middle. His lips curved mysteriously.

Why would you suddenly like it when you changed your middle name to 'V'? Harry was full of questions, but he couldn't ask too much because it was clear his father didn't want to explain further.

Tom Riddle had always despised this overly ordinary name and the surname inherited from his Muggle father. But he didn't expect to enjoy a trip to an amusement park, so what did a little annoyance matter? It was just a reflection of reality, after all.

Moreover, this name... Well, he enjoyed this game very much.

His gaze remained locked on the boy in front of him, Harry. What secret power do you possess, Harry, that allowed you to complete the final step of the Ritual of Eternity successfully? Lately, he had been subtly guiding their conversations, sometimes discussing magical theories. He would casually inquire about Harry's thoughts on the final step of the ritual and his understanding of magic. Harry, without any suspicion, would chatter away.

He intended to extract some clues from Harry.

During the day, when Harry was at school, he could secretly return to the castle to conduct experiments and validate his new theories. His daily schedule was packed.

Perhaps soon, he would uncover the secret of the final step of immortality. At that time... this boy would become useless. He didn't take his eyes off Harry's back. Harry... what should I do with you then? Maybe I should kill you, take a photo of the Savior's corpse, and publish it along with that prophecy. Dumbledore's reaction would be priceless. Then I could turn Harry into a specimen and keep it for my collection. That sounds good.

Later, the two fifteen-year-olds entered the gates of a London amusement park together.

Haunted house. The staff dressed up as ghosts and suddenly appeared, making eerie noises. The other guests scattered in fear, but Harry and Tom just looked at each other in amusement.

Tom: "This is so boring. Shall I liven things up a bit?"

Harry: "Huh?"

Tom didn't use his wand either but cast a spell with his bare hands, creating advanced effects that the haunted house had never seen before. Semi-transparent ghostly figures began to appear, the temperature dropped dramatically, and eerie, otherworldly screams echoed through the room. Tables and chairs started melting, and human-like shapes emerged from the goo, chasing terrified haunted house staff all over the place.

Harry thought, well, no one is actually getting hurt, and if it makes Father happy, he's a bit happy too.

This trip to the haunted house had all the other visitors thrilled, thinking the special effects were top-notch. Only the staff were terrified, their faces ashen, and a few even fainted.

Roller coaster. After a few loops, everyone around them was screaming, but Harry and Tom remained expressionless throughout.

Tom: "This is much less thrilling than our previous adventures together."

Harry: "Yeah."

Tom: "But you see, the view from up here is quite pleasant."

Harry: "These high tracks are indeed a comfortable place for appreciating the scenery."

When they got off the roller coaster, the two decided to go for something milder. After all, there was no need for more excitement for the two of them.

"So, how about we go on the merry-go-round?" Tom raised an eyebrow, pointing to another area nearby where people were queuing.

Harry couldn't help but wonder what the Death Eaters would think if they knew that the Dark Lord and the Dark Prince were riding a merry-go-round at a Muggle amusement park. He imagined Snape's or Crouch's expressions and chuckled to himself.

They took a two-person seat, with Harry in front and Tom behind, his arms wrapped around Harry's waist. Harry's back was against Tom's chest, separated only by the thin layer of summer clothing. They could feel each other's body heat and even their heartbeats. The staff secured them with seatbelts, effectively binding them together.

Harry blushed. He belatedly realized that this ride was meant for couples, considering how close they were. All the other seats were occupied by couples as well.

However, he didn't have time to hesitate. The music started, and the carousel began to move to the rhythm of the melody. The boy behind him continued to hold him.

His father had never been fond of physical intimacy with others, and Harry didn't know if his father would mind. He could feel the strong, steady heartbeat of the person behind him.

When the song ended, Tom jumped off the ride and extended a gentlemanly hand to help Harry down. He teased, "If you gain a little weight, it might feel even better to hold you."

Harry took Tom's hand but didn't really need his assistance, landing gracefully on the ground. Then Tom proactively bought Harry an ice cream cone, and Harry felt like he had never tasted anything so delicious.

They strolled around, and Harry occasionally stopped to look at different attractions, slowing down a bit. Tom walked a few steps ahead of him.

"Wait, Tom—" Harry was about to call out to the person in front of him.

However, his words caught the attention of three passersby. One of them even greeted enthusiastically, "Hahaha, my name is Tom too!"

Tom Riddle remained completely composed, showing no signs of irritation. He simply stood in place, turned slightly, and waited politely for Harry to catch up. Everything seemed normal.

But Harry knew his father was definitely not pleased. There were no signs, but Harry just knew; it was something he had learned about his father over the years. He also knew the reason - it was the name, his father despised this ordinary name.

Harry hurried a few steps to catch up with Tom, unsure if he should suggest a different name to call him.

"No need, just call me by this name," the other teenager replied straightforwardly, without any change in his demeanor.

"Um..." Harry blinked.

Their next conversation, Harry started speaking Parseltongue to Tom.

In this world, only the two of them could speak Parseltongue.

Indeed, it was still the most ordinary name, Tom, but when spoken in Parseltongue, it became a unique and one-of-a-kind existence in the world. No other passersby turned their heads anymore.

The hissing Parseltongue words slid softly from Harry's lips, mysterious and uniquely arousing, making Lord Voldemort feel a certain kind of sensuality.

This was something exclusive between the two of them.

During tea time, each with a straw, they shared a cup of bubble tea. According to Harry, it was a trendy new drink among teenagers these days. Voldemort wondered for a moment if it tasted as sickly sweet as it looked when Harry tried it.

The two teenagers spent the afternoon in pure joy, and as dusk approached, they headed to the London Eye, along the banks of the River Thames. With a bit of magic, they bypassed the ticketing staff and secured a private cabin.

Inside, the cabin was adorned with flowers, champagne, and chocolates, while the soothing melody of a cello played in the background, creating an atmosphere that was both classical and romantic.

Harry couldn't help but voice his concern, "The way this cabin is decorated, it seems like it was reserved for a marriage proposal... Should we really be sneaking in here?"

Tom, however, didn't seem bothered. "The London Eye takes thirty minutes to complete one rotation. They won't be back for another thirty minutes. Let's enjoy it for now," he said, pulling Harry inside when he hesitated at the entrance. Together, they approached the floor-to-ceiling window. The evening sun's fading rays painted the River Thames with shimmering hues of red, casting a golden glow on the tower of Big Ben across the water.

"Why worry about what they did? In such a beautiful place, you should only have me on your mind," Tom insisted, taking his seat by the window.

As the cabin of the London Eye gradually ascended, their view expanded. Harry observed the bustling crowds on the streets below, the rows of trees along the Thames, people strolling, couples holding hands, parents with their little daughters, and two college students sharing a passionate kiss under a tree.

Harry blushed and quickly averted his gaze, but then he noticed a young, handsome girl speeding along the river in a motorboat, her long hair billowing behind her, and an elderly man sitting on a bench playing the saxophone, its long neck bathed in the hues of the setting sun.

For a brief moment, Harry felt like he was looking down on the teeming masses below, with everyone going about their ordinary lives, but none of it had anything to do with him.

"Isn't the scenery beautiful?" Tom, seated by the window, commented, one hand casually resting on the armrest, his movements exuding elegance. "If you stay by my side, you'll get to see many more such views."

"I want to be with you forever," Harry responded. He turned away from the golden roof of Buckingham Palace in the distance, leaning against the window. He faced another young man now, bathed in the colors of the setting sun.

"That's right. My Harry doesn't belong to anyone else. You are mine," Tom declared.

"Maybe you're right. Perhaps ever since the day you brought me back to the castle, I've belonged to only you," Harry reminisced about how his father had once saved him and how he had raised his wand against innocent people. A mix of emotions welled up inside him, but with his back to the setting sun, he hoped that Voldemort couldn't see the expression on his face clearly.

"The scenery is beautiful, and so are you. I should capture this moment," Tom said, taking out the phone Harry had given him and snapping a picture.

Then Tom got up and joined Harry by the window, and together they gazed at the scenery outside. In the warm glow of the setting sun, the ancient city displayed a vibrant shade of orange. In Harry's previously busy and dark life, he had rarely seen such beauty.

They resumed their conversation, sharing chocolates summoned by Tom, the treats a mix of sweet and bitter flavors, much like the sweet and melancholic atmosphere between them. Perhaps the present sweetness, past sorrow, surface-level sweetness, and hidden worries all intertwined in this moment.

"Speak to me in Parseltongue, Harry. I like the way you talk like that," Tom suddenly said.

"Sure," Harry replied, switching to Parseltongue and continuing to express his thoughts in the hissing language, a language understood only by the two of them.

As the London Eye reached its highest point, Tom kissed Harry. He tasted the softness of Harry's lips, combined with a hint of sweet chocolate. It was even better than the drink they had shared that afternoon, and Tom unexpectedly found the answer he had been seeking to the unresolved question from earlier in the day.

Harry was briefly surprised but then closed his eyes, holding Tom tightly. He felt a surge of excitement and joy, his heart racing as blood rushed through his veins. Harry suddenly realized that he had wanted this for a long time, but in the past, he had never dared to think in this direction. He had always looked up to his father with reverence, dedicating his entire life to loving him.

In the flower-adorned cabin of the London Eye, with the cello's melody filling the air and the setting sun casting a warm light, their silhouetted embrace in front of the window was a moment Harry would sometimes think back on. If time could freeze at that instant, how wonderful it would be.