本帖最后由 凉席 于 2021-8-7 09:56 编辑
罗恩死亡,赫敏一天天消沉,在哈利消灭黑魔王后日子并没有好过,不管是外部还是内部的压力都慢慢令他奔溃。于是哈利决定回到过去,收养汤姆,从源头改变结局。哈利相信爱的力量并希望感化汤姆,但汤姆不改变他的残忍本色,可在相处的过程中,汤姆对哈利产生了极强的占有欲。原文在ao3上。
文字很有感染力,两人的相互纠缠,就像两条紧紧缠绕的巨蟒,都要吞噬对方。那种压抑中的爱,以及互相相处中的小动作,都猛烈地抓着读者的眼睛。这文超赞!!!!一共有10章,每章都超长,现在写到第8章。
贴一小部分原文
The house was silent, so Tom went to the wardrobe, opening it and peering inside.
Potter’s smell was even stronger here. Predictably, he possessed very few pieces of clothing — Tom’s collection surpassed his many times over. All of them were simple and bleak, but Tom still inspected them thoroughly, trying to sense… something. He wasn’t sure what.
To his disappointment, there was nothing worthy of his consideration there. Apart from clothes, Potter had few personal things: several books, a vase, and three moving photos. Tom picked them up, studying people depicted there.
It was captivating, to hold such an obviously magical object in his hands. To see how people there moved, laughed, and looked at him warily, as if knowing things he did not.
The couple on the first photo must be Potter’s parents, considering their physical resemblance. Were they dead? If they were wizards, why did Potter say that he grew up without knowing about magic?
The second photo portrayed a group of people and the third one was in colour, featuring a red-haired man and a young woman.
Potter’s friends, most likely. Was the red-haired a pure-blood, then? Looking at him, Tom had to acknowledge that Potter was right. There was absolutely nothing special about him — in fact, he looked downright moronic.
Scoffing, Tom put the photos away and focused on the vase instead. Up close, it looked even more hideous than he’d first thought. It appeared to be self-made, with terrible, twisted lines decorating its red-and-gold sides. There was an inscription but the writing was so bad that it was impossible to decipher what it was saying.
Potter didn’t give his attachment freely. What could his so-called friends do to deserve it?
Tom’s grip tightened around the vase. Then he reached to put it back but a sudden loosening of pressure resulted in the vase slipping from his hands. Shocked, Tom watched how it fell on the floor and shattered, losing every indication of its previous form.
For a while, he stood frozen, unable to believe he could be so clumsy. Gradually, the ice of shock began to melt into panic, and without thinking, Tom dropped to his knees, his hands hovering uselessly over the broken pieces.
He couldn’t get a grip on his self-control. The only pulsating, blinding thought was,This could be a hard boundary. Potter wouldn’t forgive him breaking one of the few things left from his friends.
Tom tried to imagine being told to pack and sent to the orphanage, to all those who were certain that he would fail. Being cut off from magic knowledge again, losinghishouse,histhings,hisPotter.
Terror flooded him, pouring down his spine, and Tom tried to focus, to glue the pieces together with his magic. Potter had said he was strong, so he had to be able to fix it — hemustfix it, right now, before Potter saw it…
Tom couldn’t say how much time had passed. He kept trying to concentrate his energy on mending the vase but nothing worked. He was failing.Failing. His hands were shaking, his skin bleeding in some places, and for the first time in his life, he felt his age.
There was nothing he could do. Nothing.
Desperately, he looked up at some point and saw Potter staring at him, an expression of disbelief and wonder on his face. A wave of resignation and coldness swept through him and Tom straightened slowly, preparing a biting answer to whatever dismissal he would hear.
Potter continued to look at him and Tom clearly saw the moment when something in him snapped. In several steps, Potter crossed the distance between them and hugged him, wrapping his hands around him tightly.
Tom couldn’t move. His brain short-circuited, and every retort, every insult his mind had prepared dissolved, leaving layers of confusion behind.
Potter was hugging him. Holding him, willingly.
Why was he holding him? It didn’t make sense. Tom had broken his vase. Potter almost never initiated touches, so why would he decide to do that now?
“It’s all right,” Potter murmured, and Tom shuddered from the warmth of his breath that felt so alive against his hair. “It’s just a vase. I can fix it myself, but even if I couldn't, it wouldn’t mean anything. You are… you are more important.”
Tom listened, absorbing every word, sensing how they took root somewhere deep inside him.
“I’m not giving you up,” Potter added. “No matter what.”
Tom listened.
He remembered.
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