[HP] Similar but different

This accident made Harry give up the idea of ​​going to the library.Things got complicated... Although there was a lot of homework waiting for him, he rushed back to the dormitory in one breath - well, no one else came back - pulled the bed curtains and got into bed.He originally wanted to sort out the facts he knew in chronological order on the parchment, but Voldemort's warning was still echoing in his ears, so he could only use his fingers to recall——

Voldemort personally checked whether he was a Parseltongue, discovered the two-way link between them, and was very angry at him for destroying the diary, but finally let him go strangely;

Then, the next night, his scar was so painful that he passed out, presumably because Voldemort found out that the locket had been switched;

Because only Voldemort and Kreacher knew the location of the locket, Voldemort naturally suspected that he had arrived at the Black house, and tricked Mundungus into stealing the real locket for him;

The day before going to Hogwarts, that is, the day Voldemort got the real locket, he was inspired by the pain of coincidence, and finally learned the story behind the locket from Klee's incision;

In just one night, Voldemort manipulated the fake locket, stuffed it into his pocket in a mess, and then used the unknown link between them to propose a very tempting deal for him...

Although taunted by Voldemort, Harry didn't really believe that the Dark Lord would do things that were not good for him.The Dark Lord must have an indestructible reason not to kill him, just as the Dark Lord must find him-think about it, what the Death Eaters can do, why should the Dark Lord go far away?

What was Voldemort's reason for not killing him?Worried about history repeating itself?

What only he could do for Voldemort?Does it have anything to do with bidirectional links?

Harry had been drowsy all day, but now his head was too wide awake.He soon realized that if his guess was true, then Voldemort's last words were also true—

The whole thing was only about him and Voldemort, no one else could have a hand in it.

Thinking of this, Harry threw off the quilt and stared at the ceiling in the dark.For a long time he heard no possible sneer or sarcasm.It seems that Voldemort is not listening to his head anytime, anywhere...

Harry was relieved by this conclusion.He still has time to learn Occlumency to recover a little bit of his disadvantage in this deal.

The plan was very good, but the reality was not so good.

On the first day of school, Snape asked them to write a twelve-inch essay on the analysis of the properties of moonstones, and Trelawney asked them to record their three dreams every week; Professor Flitwick had assigned a lot of spells as homework in an unprecedented way, and everyone except Hermione needed to practice the Vanishing Curse overnight.

In the afternoon, when they left for Care of Magical Creatures, Harry sincerely hoped that Professor Graplan would do his best not to add to their mountain of homework.

Although the next Occlumency session didn't start until Saturday, Harry felt to Snape that he had to shove his secrets into the deepest recesses of his brain ahead of time.Not to mention that Snape's words made him feel bad - how difficult would Umbridge have to be to make the extremely stubborn Snape change the tuition time without even thinking about it?Could it be that Umbridge could have locked him up all night every day of the week?

"As much as I hate to say it," said Ron, who was rarely concerned as they walked down the hill together, "but it sounds like a possibility."

Hermione tried to hold Harry back when he bumped into Umbridge, several times - without success, of course. "Whether it's impossible or not, it's a foregone conclusion," she said firmly. "No matter how much Umbridge plans to torture you, Harry, you can't let her find a reason to punish you again."

Although Harry admitted in his heart that Hermione was right, it was really difficult for him to control his temper sometimes.It's like Umbridge accusing him of lying in public, or Voldemort mocking him for not being able to do it...

stop, stop!

Snape's theory that Occlumency necessitated repressing emotions rushed into Harry's mind.If he didn't want the Dark Lord to perceive his thoughts all the time, he'd better start now.

Harry's silence was interpreted by Hermione as a silent refusal.She sighed in a low voice and didn't say any more.

Professor Graplan is teaching Bowtruckles in this class, with two students in teams.When she came to their side to check, Ron took the time to ask, "Professor, where is Hagrid?"

"He has something to leave Hogwarts." Professor Graplan replied simply. "Don't squeeze too hard, Weasley, they might scratch your eyes when they're frightened."

That answer didn't satisfy Harry. "Do you know what he did, Professor?"

"He didn't tell me," said Professor Graplan flatly, and went to the other side.

Harry and Ron looked at each other, disappointed at the answer.But maybe in order to take care of their emotions, a whisper suddenly came from the side: "...Really?"

It's a deliberately pinched female voice that sounds like Pansy Parkinson.Gryffindor and Slytherin take this lesson together.

"Of course it is," answered another, much grittier voice, Crabbe. "Malfoy's fucked up, ha!"

The last sentence successfully caught Ron's attention.He and Harry both saw interest in the other's eyes and moved towards the source of the sound without a trace.

But to Crabbe and Goyle, that caution seemed to be in vain, since they would never have discovered who was eavesdropping on them. "It must be over!" Goyle agreed cheerfully.

"What the hell is going on?" Still Parkinson.

At this point, Harry was almost behind Crabbe. "I told you," the big Slytherin said gruffly, with obvious smugness in his voice, "the portrait of Malfoy Manor was taken."

All of a sudden, there were gasps one after another, as if the portrait was a great thing.But Harry was at a loss.A portrait of Malfoy Manor?What portrait?

"Doesn't that mean..." Parkinson's thin voice was also lowered so that Harry couldn't hear all of it, "...there will be no more...Malfoy Manor...headquarters?"

"I'd say it could have been worse," Crabbe gloated. "At least I haven't heard of any other portraits being taken."

There was a moment of silence, and then a few muffled echoes sounded. "That's a... honor," Parkinson added, with palpable awe, "few... the longest... to have. Malfoy... what, why...?"

Harry glanced at Ron, who returned the same puzzled expression.They wanted to hear more, but Professor Graplan's voice interrupted the little gathering: "Crabbe, Goyle, are you done with your Bowtruckle sketches?"

The two quickly took a few steps away, pretending to have been studying the slender green insect in their hands.After Professor Graplan walked away again, Harry asked in a low voice, "What did you think of, Ron?"

This time, Ron gave him a terrified look.

When Harry saw it, he knew they were thinking in the same direction.If it was someone else, they might not be able to guess; but when it happened to Malfoy, it probably had something to do with Voldemort's anger.

"It's his portrait," said Harry in a voice only Ron could hear. "Of course the Death Eaters would honor something like that."

Ron's freckles seemed white at the thought of having a portrait of Voldemort in his home, considered a great honor. "How could they do that?" His voice changed in horror, "What the hell are they thinking?"

Harry felt that it was never a good idea to try to understand the minds of the Death Eaters. "It sounds like there's more than one piece," he said researchingly, "but not many... since it's an honor."

Ron was still in shock. "No matter how many pictures there are," he trembled a little, "why does the mysterious man paint himself? He's still alive, isn't he?"

Being reminded like this, Harry suddenly realized something - indeed, the portraits they saw were all dead people. "It's really hard to understand," he agreed. "It's not like the way he likes it. . .

He stopped suddenly.Yes, the Death Eaters relied on the Dark Mark to deliver their messages; but what about before the Dark Mark?Isn't there another way to communicate the Dark Lord's wishes?Or, not just passing the news, but also the factor of personality cult?

Harry sketched a few strokes on the paper, then looked up to find Draco Malfoy.He soon discovered that Malfoy had chosen a seat farthest from the crowd, his face seemed paler than usual, and his composure was shaky.

He seems to have heard...

Harry paused.This thing looks real.So, did Parkinson's sentence that he didn't catch clearly mean that Voldemort took away the portrait that was originally in Malfoy Manor, and Malfoy Manor was no longer the headquarters of the Death Eaters?

All day, Harry didn't hear a voice ringing in his head.He was comforted by this, for obvious reasons; but he was also alarmed, because it meant that Voldemort did not see him as an equal enemy at all.

Perhaps Voldemort's underestimation is more beneficial to him, after all, it is easier for the Dark Lord to show his flaws unconsciously...

Harry was still thinking about this until the moment he stepped into the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor's office.But soon, his mind was completely occupied with anger at Umbridge—

That dreadful old woman made him write, "I must not lie!"

Sounds simple, but every time the sharp quill tip landed on the parchment, it cut the skin on the back of Harry's hand, causing him sharp pain.The freshly written handwriting was bright red because it had no ink but Harry's blood.

Harry gritted his teeth and said nothing.He could feel Umbridge staring at him, expecting him to beg for mercy or submit, and he showed no sign of weakness.

Suddenly, it seemed that someone clicked his tongue, negatively.

Harry looked up sharply, and his eyes met the smiling Umbridge. "Why?" She asked in a coquettish voice, "Do you have any questions?"

This tone of voice would make Harry sick for three days.He shook his head slightly, then lowered his head to write again.Blood continued to flow from the tip of the pen, and the earliest handwriting had turned dark brown.He vaguely felt an anger that didn't belong to him flashing through his mind, and the scar soon began to throb with pain.

The Dark Lord must have seen what he saw...

Harry fought the urge to press his forehead, knowing Umbridge was still watching him.But, he thought incomprehensibly, why would he be unhappy to see him being punished by Umbridge before Voldemort could celebrate?

The author has something to say:

The portrait appeared again~ As an important second setting of this article, I would like to add that it was inspired by the third HP movie directed by Alfonso Cuarón.

small theater:

HP: What are you mad about?

LV: Your blood is my blood, Umbridge TM doesn't want to mix it up!