Chapter 37. Soul Link
Voldemort mentioned taking Harry out to buy clothes for the masquerade. Inconvenient in the magical world, he didn't want anyone to recognize Harry. So, he took Harry to a place in the Muggle world where luxurious dresses could be custom-made.
Severus Snape was also called in, following behind and responsible for carrying the bags.
When Snape saw Voldemort driving a Ferrari, his couldn't believe his eyes. He thought he must not be awake, must have gone mad, or must have drunk some hallucination potion.
As Potter, with an innocent and enthusiastic expression, said, "Get in the car~" Snape, shattered in worldview, sat in the back of the convertible, seriously contemplating whether he should tell Dumbledore about this. How should he say it? Would Dumbledore think he had gone crazy or was making up nonsense? This had absolutely no credibility.
When he saw Voldemort, with one hand on the steering wheel, another hand holding Dark Prince in the passenger seat, Snape felt that his worldview could no longer be repaired. This double-agent could do whatever he wanted; he was taking a vacation to mend his own emotional wounds.
Because Harry was invited as Voldemort's dance partner and to protect Harry's identity, they decided to have Harry wear a dress, lengthen his hair with magic, and disguise him as a girl. There was no way the Death Eaters could recognize this beautiful young lady as the formidable Dark Prince. That was beyond imagination.
Thinking Harry would protest, Voldemort was surprised when Harry accepted without hesitation, saying, "Sure." Whether it was a dress or a suit, Harry didn't care; Clothes wasn't something he would bother about, nor that decide who he was.
Voldemort wanted to make sure his Harry would be stunning at the masquerade. They arrived at a luxury street, where Voldemort intended to have Harry choose a dress that would captivate everyone.
The process of selecting a dress wasn't particularly interesting; it was just trying on one after another. Harry wasn't too keen on dressing, but seeing that Voldemort cared, he cooperated happily. To complement the dress, Harry used magic to lengthen his hair. His short, rebellious hair became well-behaved when longer, hanging down his back with natural curls at the ends. Harry casually tied it into a bun, making his overall appearance more striking.
Harry's facial features were already delicate, and with the addition of long hair, he exuded a gender-neutral charm. Not entirely like a male, not entirely like a female, but a perfect blend of delicacy and charisma. Moreover, Harry's voice hadn't changed much during puberty, slightly soft. Now, with a slightly higher tone, he spoke like an elegant young lady.
Snape, who was already flabbergasted, now accepted everything resignedly. He watched Dark Prince in a dress, or Princess, or even Queen, whatever, and thought, truly Lily's child; he indeed resembled Lily. Much better-looking than that silly deer, which was a fair statement.
Carrying the layers of the grand dress, Harry spun around earnestly and asked Voldemort, "Is this one okay?"
Voldemort, with a commanding wave of his hand, said, "Buy it as well," and then pulled out his phone to pay.
Snape, holding the bags, now had one more. Voldemort was proficiently using Muggle communication tools. Snape didn't even know how to use a phone. Snape applied Occlumency to shut his mind and decided not to think about anything.
That night, in the small meeting room of the Order of the Phoenix, Snape found Dumbledore, struggling to express himself, looking as if his Sanity had been completely depleted. The old headmaster comforted him for a long time before he regained his voice.
Then it was Dumbledore's turn to be flabbergasted.
At the end of the conversation, Dumbledore asked again, "Are there any other clues, any attitudes that Lord Voldemort usually exhibits towards the Muggle world?"
Snape shook his head, harboring similar suspicions, "Not at all. Voldemort usually harbors hatred towards Muggles."
Dumbledore's growing unease intensified; this matter was turning out differently than he had thought. After pondering for a long time, he said, "Severus, perhaps there are secrets in this that we are unaware of. I have a strong intuition that it is essential."
"This dress looks the best," Voldemort commented as they were in their Muggle world home, and Harry was still trying on clothes in front of the mirror.
"I agree," Harry nodded. "So, is it decided then?"
For Death Eaters, a Muggle dress might seem odd. "You wouldn't want them to be suspicious, so how about adding some magical decorations?" Voldemort suggested with interest, waving his wand to add sparkling dots to the hem of the dress, making it appear dazzling.
Harry was eager to add decorations to the dress but was stopped by Voldemort, "Don't forget you need to use magic sparingly. Just give suggestions."
Harry pouted, "I've been recovering from my injury for so long... this little magic is perfectly fine."
"But your recent physical condition is unstable again, isn't it? Harry, listen to me, leave this to me," Voldemort said, ruffling Harry's hair and continued waving his wand, adding a radiant glow and letting those dots float on the surface of the glow.
"It looks really good. It reminds me of the night we looked at the stars together."
"Starry sky is a good idea," Voldemort said, adding a flowing Milky Way to the dress. At Harry's suggestion, he added some tasteful magical decorations to the dress, making it shimmer.
Harry spun in place, and the stars on the deep blue skirt rotated into streams of light.
Voldemort, with keen interest, framed the scene in the viewfinder of his phone, capturing the image together with the rose garden outside the window illuminated by wall lamps, and pressed the capture button, "The charm of the stars is always irresistible."
Harry cooperatively turned again for him to capture, blinking, "Speaking of the stars that night... I have something to give Father. I originally wanted to wait until your birthday, but I couldn't wait."
"What is it?"
"Here you go." Harry took out a crystal ball, perfectly cradled in his palm, a clear crystal shell with a cavity filled with water containing a miniature castle. Harry shook the crystal ball vigorously, and the castle disintegrated. Voldemort recognized that the castle was made of extremely fine sand, falling like snowflakes and covering the entire interior of the crystal ball.
The scattered sand gradually fell again, returning to the shape of the castle, with details becoming more refined.
"This is the castle we built together on the beach that day! I thought it was quite memorable, so I brought it back and shrunk it to fit inside here." Harry said with some excitement, "Then I added a spell to make the crystal ball remember the location information of the sand. This way, it can be preserved for a long time—much more reliable than the Ironclad Curse."
Voldemort took the crystal ball, contemplating.
"Father... do you really live on forever, until the end of the world? I know the principle is like that, but I can't imagine how long that is. Just like I can't comprehend the concept of over a hundred billion years from the creation of the universe to today." Harry suddenly asked.
"If I want to know, I will know."
"But... faced with such a long time, would you be afraid? Would you be lonely?" Harry turned to look at his father.
Voldemort casually ruffled Harry's hair, and the bun came loose. Voldemort continued to straighten Harry's slightly messy long hair and softly said, "What a fool you are." He didn't say the latter half—how could he fear his own weakness, and why would he mind his own strength?
Even now, he still felt he wasn't powerful enough. Although the ritual was successful, now he could automatically recover from injuries, even resurrection if killed. He still felt the recovery speed was not fast enough, and...
A lifetime pursuer of power, the Dark Lord was immersed in the vortex of power. He had always known that in the long future he was about to face, there might be more powerful enemies, able to find ways to exploit the weakness of his immortality. How could that be called eternal?
He was still unsatisfied; he wanted faster recovery, flawless eternity, closer to that sacred and magnificent concept. He had always been a perfectionist.
Under the moonlight, they returned to Slytherin Castle and practiced dancing on the open platform at the top of the tower.
Harry changed into the formal gown, the long skirt trailing on the floor. He walked out of the tower's doorway, slightly stumbling; high heels have made him feel strange. Those emerald green eyes, like gemstones in a crown or eternal stars in the sky. He wore a choker on his slender neck, adorned with a velvet flower. The dress was navy blue, and the dark-patterned fabric had delicate tuck pleats, several layers of the skirt making it look splendid. The outer layers were made of stacked veils, adorned with silver silk and lace, embellished with many starlight motifs, resembling a flowing Milky Way.
Harry quickly adapted to the crystal shoes with high heels. When he reached Voldemort, he was already quite adept, no longer stumbling.
Voldemort, wearing a dark serpent-patterned robe, looked even more handsome and dashing. He extended a hand, slightly bowing, "So, my beautiful Harry, may I invite you to dance?"
Lord Voldemort casually chose a background music, Beethoven's "Fate". Since there was no mobile signal in the Snake family castle, he had downloaded it in advance on his phone.
Now he used his phone as a music player, and with a sonorous charm, the music spread across the moonlit tower. Perhaps not casually, because this is a re-played version, the piano fell heavily, like the knock on the door of fate, and the soaring violin carried a hint of ethereal and lingering.
After days of practice, Harry's dance steps were much more confident than at the beginning. He smoothly followed Voldemort's steps, spinning gracefully. Moonlight soaked the surroundings, and stars scattered on the skirt, making everything more dreamlike.
As the last note of the music played, due to spinning too many times, combined with the unstable shoes and his still weakened body, "Oops!" Harry stumbled and fell into Voldemort's arms, caught by Voldemort's hands around his waist.
"Tsk tsk, it seems Harry needs more practice. We can't let the Death Eaters see this cute look. We'd better keep these cute incidents within our private moments."
"Harry, when we were at the beach, didn't you ask me about our relationship?"
"Huh?" Harry thought he hadn't heard him at that time.
"I didn't answer you then because I needed to think carefully," Voldemort said, dragging a book that looked quite old between his long fingers. It seemed like it was taken from a dusty shelf in the Slytherin Castle library. He flipped to a certain page and placed the ancient book on the table in front of Harry. "I want you to take a look at this."
On the page was an illustration of a male and a female, a glowing connection between them linking their hearts.
Harry looked at the text above in Old English, describing a magical spell that connects the souls of lovers, allowing them to sense each other's minds and communicate. It was once considered a commitment of love, a ceremony more sacred and profound than a wedding.
"This...," Harry was stunned, not understanding why his father wanted him to see this. He didn't dare think about it.
"So... Harry, would you like to try? As an answer to your question. This soul link requires mutual consent from both parties to establish."
This almost direct confession left Harry dumbfounded. He looked at the man with an expression of surprise, the handsome face without a hint of joking.
"But... Father, do you really want this?" Harry asked uncertainly. He always knew his father disliked such things.
"Of course. For me, you are a unique and special existence, Harry. Fate has bound us together, and you are an indispensable part of my eternity. So, would you like to form a deeper connection with me, my lovely Harry?"
"I want to. I've always loved Father the most." Harry said softly, a blush appearing on his cheeks, and his eyes shining with happiness.
They held hands, and a faint golden light flashed, very dazzling. In that moment, it also illuminated the rose garden outside the window.
Harry had expected that their interaction would change after that, feeling a mix of apprehension and anticipation for the upcoming changes. However, his father's behavior remained unchanged, and there was no mention of the incident with the soul link, as if the magical connection was just a dream that had never truly happened.
Harry thought that perhaps his father preferred their original way of being together. In truth, Harry liked it too. So why bother changing anything? He decided not to dwell on these matters.
At school one day, Harry saw Romancia crying, with two other girls in the same class comforting her. It reminded him of the girl who was forced to choose death during the Death Eater attack and cried.
Upon inquiring, he learned that she was unexpectedly pregnant, and Oscar refused to take responsibility, cleanly pushing away any accountability and breaking up with Romancia.
"How could you let him do it without using protection?" another girl with black short hair asked.
"He often forgets... and he says it's more comfortable this way."
"He's only thinking about his own pleasure, without considering you at all. How can he claim to love you? If I were you, at the moment this happened, I'd dump him," the black-haired girl indignantly commented.
"Bad guys love using the excuse of so-called love to deceive girls," Jennifer added from the side, crossing her arms. "Hmm, don't believe in that love nonsense too much. They only have sexual desire for women, not love."
"We've already broken up, but now it's too late..." Romancia just cried. The girl with black hair hugged her and patted her back.
The girl hadn't obtained permission for an abortion, feeling both terrified and helpless, crying that she still wanted to go to college, that she had dreams, and her entire life would be ruined because of this.
Indeed, it was too cruel for her. Harry thought and, casually, discreetly used magic to help her with the abortion. The girl continued crying, completely unaware that her problem had already been solved.
Then Harry thinking of his father, everything between them had been improving lately. Harry believed he was not deceived
Voldemort's plan was progressing smoothly. His experiments continued, and he gradually identified that the mysterious power Harry possessed might be related to his soul.
During the day, he would return to Slytherin Castle to continue his exploration—of course, not informing Harry, who obediently attended school.
However, he now needed more sacrifices for his experiments.
Oh, Harry would surely make a fuss. Voldemort smiled slyly. No need to worry; the Dark Lord who controlled everything had his ways.
In middle school, academic performance was paramount, and Harry's school held parent-teacher conferences several times a semester for teachers and parents to discuss various aspects of students' school life. Previously, Harry had conducted these meetings himself, informing Mr. Cotton that he had no parents.
Coincidentally, it was time for another parent-teacher conference, and Voldemort volunteered to drive his convertible, taking Harry to school.
"You don't have parents, do you?" Mr. Cotton asked. His memory had been wiped, completely forgetting the Potter family's affairs, and in his mind, Harry was still the wandering child he had been before.
"He is my adoptive father," Harry said, scratching his head awkwardly.
"I'm Tord Miveld. Thank you for taking care of this child all this time," Voldemort politely introduced himself to Harry's teacher.
Harry noticed that his father had been using this alias recently.
"Are you Harry's guardian? There's no need to worry about his studies; Harry works really hard and is very talented. He's sure to do well in the A Level exams," Mr. Cotton assured.
Voldemort nodded, unsurprised. After all, the child he raised was naturally outstanding.
"But I'd like to ask, why wasn't Harry attending school before? Why was he left to wander alone, working in a restaurant?" The compassionate teacher found it hard not to care about the life of this special child. Mr. Cotton frowned slightly, suspecting that this person wasn't fulfilling his responsibilities as a guardian. "I'm a teacher, and it's rare to see parents like this. He didn't even go to school and had no money for medical treatment. I introduced him to avenues for financial assistance before he could attend secondary school."
Voldemort, with an honest expression, said, "Harry ran away from home before, and I've been looking for him."
"Run away from home?" The teacher looked skeptical, glancing at the young man in front of him and then at Harry. "With Harry's personality, he doesn't seem like the kind of child who would randomly throw tantrums and run away from home."
"I ran away because there were some issues at home, but now the problem has been resolved. Can we not talk about this?" Harry started deflecting.
"Harry managed well on his own outside, didn't he?" Voldemort added.
"But did you know that Harry was in terrible health? He even ended up in the ICU before. Did you know?" Mr. Cotton pointed out.
"Oh? What happened?" Voldemort raised an eyebrow, asking.
Harry, vigorously signaling to Mr. Cotton to stop, especially about the ICU incident, which was to save James Potter, Harry didn't want the Dark Lord himself to know. There was a moment when Harry even thought of casting a Silencing Charm, but how could he use magic to deceive the Dark Lord right under his nose? No matter how Harry acted, it would just be suspicious.
So Harry could only listen as the teacher continued, "Harry nearly died in the ICU before. The doctors had a hard time saving him. They couldn't find any issues through examinations, only knowing that all his organs were failing. Unable to identify the cause and afraid to use medications randomly, they had to use external devices like ECMO, dialysis, and a heart pacemaker to sustain his life. He stayed in the ICU for a week, but he woke up on his own." The teacher laid out all the circumstances.
Harry sighed.