[HP] Similar but different

Young Voldemort, or Tom Marvolo Riddle, who had just graduated, frowned. "I almost suspect you did it on purpose, because it's my least favorite name. But..." The corners of his mouth pulled down in a malicious smirk, "He's free to see you now, Potter."

Before Harry could recover from his shock, he repeated mechanically, "Is he free to see me now?"

"Yeah," said Tom, raising an eyebrow. "I thought you'd know he's been away for a while. After all you're so inquisitive about people..." He sneered.

So what he did these days really spread to Voldemort...

The bad news made Harry's heart sink heavily, but at the same time it made Harry's brain function again. "Voldemort is back?" He finally found his voice, "When?"

Tom frowned again, apparently still not appreciating Harry's title. "You still have three minutes to put your hands on the locket." He glanced out of the frame, as if listening to something, "and put on the crown at the same time."

Harry began to realize that Voldemort was bringing him a message through his own portrait. "Will the locket be a portkey in three minutes?" he asked, his shock fading a little, and his stubbornness rising at the same time. "What if I don't?"

"Are you planning to ask Dumbledore for help?" Tom gave an amused look. "I'm afraid you have no choice—the old bee is far from the school now."

"...you planned it," Harry finally understood, "you knew I was coming for the holidays!"

"Obviously." Tom smirked back at that. "Usually the meaningless chores keep your head spinning, don't they?"

Harry didn't know whether he was referring to the Quidditch team, the defense team, or both...the latter guess was more likely. "Why does he want to see me? For a crown?"

"I knew you'd have a lot of questions." Tom clicked his tongue. "Let's make a long story short. The diadem was an accident, and no one would have guessed that you would hide the locket near him. Then, you spoke Parseltongue, in his presence."

Harry opened his mouth slowly as he remembered. "I said two words 'open'," he murmured, "the first reaction was a crown!" Then he remembered the suspicion he had denied before, about why Voldemort would put his own portrait in a place everywhere The room was full of rubbish. "You're here to watch it!"

"Good reasoning," Tom smirked, "so now you have to take responsibility. You don't want to leave a danger - or you awaken - in Hogwarts, do you?"

Although Harry understands intellectually that the crown and Voldemort are inseparable, but emotionally, he is still reluctant to believe that the crown that has provided him with a lot of help is a dangerous item that can easily kill people. "Maybe not," his tone was too weak to convince himself, "at least it didn't really do anything to me..."

"You're not so naive as to think he's only lethal in words, are you? Are you desperate to correct your bad homework?" Tom sneered again.

Harry couldn't pay attention to the part about him being mocked right now.Could it be that the crown, like the diary, secretly absorbs the vitality of people?he thought nervously.But he really didn't notice it at all?

"You're okay because you're different," Tom added, not too pleased.

Although he knew he shouldn't be thankful for that difference, Harry was weirdly relieved. "Am I different?" He grabbed at the repetition, "And, you just kept calling Diana 'he'?"

"You want to know why?" Tom retorted, a little bewitched.

Harry caught the subtext. "You won't tell me, will you?" He turned his head and stared at the diadem who seemed to be watching the show, "unless I take the diadem to see Voldemort?"

"Oh, it seems you don't quite understand what I mean." Tom laughed again, but there was no smile in the black jade eyes. "You must bring him the crown, and as for whether he will tell you-- "He dragged out his voice, making it clear that the latter was negative.

Harry could no longer hold back the anger that had been suppressed just now, and it all surged up in his head. "I, no, do it!"

"Really?" Tom was completely indifferent to the yelling, and he even made a thoughtful gesture with his head propped up. "This is really a wise decision. After all, you are facing me who is not a threat. It is indeed much safer to stay at Hogwarts." He nodded as he spoke, and seemed to feel the same way.

Harry was furious. "I'm not doing it for myself..."

But Tom interrupted Harry. "I was going to kindly advise you," he said with a sudden put away from his artificial expression, "The Dark Lord has got the weapon he needs most. If you really care about someone, it's better not to test his strength." Patience—you'll never wonder what a pissed-off Dark Lord can do." He listened again, "Oh, he asked me to remind you that you're already late."

"People I really care about..." Harry repeated, flushing with rage.He couldn't care less about the so-called "most needed weapon" now.Sirius was at the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix and should be safe; Hermione had gone skiing abroad with her parents and was probably fine; but Mr. and Mrs. Weasley and the children couldn't be sure. "Is this a threat?" He gritted his teeth.

Both of them knew that this sentence did not require an answer.

Harry glared at the man in the painting, but the handsome young man just looked at him leisurely and leisurely.He hated the other party's determined appearance so much, but he couldn't just sit back and watch others get hurt or even die because of him... He really had no choice.

Slowly, Harry walked to the chest and tiptoed to remove the crown from the top.The cold metal pressed against his palm, like a silent mockery of his previous trust.He closed his eyes, opened the cabinet door again, and removed the metal cage inside.

"I thought you hadn't finished asking," Guan Guan suddenly said, "Don't you need to inquire about your own fate before you make a decision?"

Harry shot it a sullen look.Almost rudely, he tossed the cage aside, ignoring the crashing sound it made as it hit the ground.The locket glowed faintly in the shadows below.He hesitated for a moment, but still grabbed it—the bright blue light burst into the ground in an instant—

As if there was a hook behind his navel, Harry was jerked backwards, spinning rapidly.Surrounded by blurred blocks of color and the sound of howling wind, it was bitingly cold.He thought it would be enough to hold on for a while, but Voldemort was obviously farther away from him than he thought.

By the time his feet hit the ground again, Harry was shaking, his nose was burning, his teeth were chattering, and he was almost numb from the cold below his knees.He barely made himself stand still before he could look around——

There was nothingness everywhere, and the black land stretched from the foot to the invisible distance.According to the time, the sun should have come out, but the thick gray fog still lingers on it, making it look cold and desolate.

He had thought he would enter a prison-like room, with a wall of pictures at worst; but now it seemed that he had landed in some field?

Harry thought uncertainly.He tried to take a step forward, and immediately found that the ground under his feet was suspected to be too soft, accompanied by the ominous sound of thin ice breaking.

...not fields, but swamps?

"Oh, I wondered when my dear boy would come." The soft words pierced through the fog, "Fortunately before I got impatient."

Regardless of protesting the overly intimate address again, Harry quickly looked towards the source of the voice.In the mist that seemed to never dissipate in front of him, a tall and thin figure slowly appeared.When the other party got closer, he realized slowly that Voldemort was floating towards him, just like the dark alley in the summer vacation.

Voldemort also seemed to notice Harry's froze and difficulty in moving. "I didn't expect this to happen," he explained halfheartedly.

Harry really didn't understand why Voldemort had chosen a large swamp as their meeting place, but he couldn't think about it at all right now. "I think so," he said angrily, "after all, you were threatening me just now!"

Voldemort stopped three or four steps away from Harry, and tilted his head slightly upon hearing this. "You are dishonest, of course I have to do something to make you obey." He smiled, his red eyes were cold, "You have to know that the Dark Lord hates empty words, even if it is a threat."

It certainly meant that Voldemort was willing to do the terrible harm Harry imagined... Harry was furious. "Here's the crown!" he roared, throwing his hands away. "Keep away from my friends!"

Voldemort raised his hand lightly, and the crown in the air immediately turned around and landed lightly on his palm. "Really," he said with just one look, slipping it back up his sleeve, looking very satisfied, "The Dark Lord does what he says," he said, adding purposefully when he caught Harry secretly breathing a sigh of relief, "but Whether my servants will do it, I don't know."

"You—!" Harry was so angry that he lost his mind.He no longer cared about the danger of falling into the mud, he took two quick steps, and tightened his grip on the collar of Voldemort's black robe, "Whether you or your subordinates, dare to touch them!"

But let alone fight back, Voldemort didn't move at all.He lowered his eyes, and his eyes moved from Harry's clenched white fingers to his cold blue lips, and then to Harry's emerald eyes that were brighter because of his anger. "Do you know what you're doing now, boy?" he asked softly, without emotion.

The author has something to say:

Hmm~o(*￣▽￣*)o

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