[HP] Similar but different

The footsteps going upstairs stopped. "What do you mean?" Kreacher asked, contemptuously, "Can you get that from the Dark Lord?"

Although the house-elf tried to hide it, Harry could still hear the eagerness hidden in it. "I can't," he said quickly, without giving Kreacher a chance to interrupt him, "but Voldemort brought it to me."

"...What? Why is the Dark Lord..." Kreacher screamed, "You must be lying!"

Hearing the heavy footsteps approaching, Harry knew he had won. "Why should I lie?" He asked back, "A silver box, it doesn't have the real weight, the carvings are not as exquisite, and there is no ancient secret script circle on the real locket, right?"

"How do you know?" Kreacher reappeared in Harry's field of vision, his thin chest heaving up and down.He stared suspiciously at Harry. "Where is it?"

Harry saw that he couldn't just say he wasn't there. "I hid it," he said quickly, "in a safe place. I can bring it to you too, but before that you must tell me a few things."

Kreacher looked wobbly. "What do you want to know?"

"Where's Sirius?" Harry asked immediately.

The house-elf cast a disgusted sideways glance, which was in the direction of the conference room. "I'm in a meeting, and I cast a secrecy spell." He said in a tone of extreme disgust. "All day, those scum, scum, and mudbloods have been coming in and out, and defiled the noble house of the Black family..."

Harry frowned; he didn't have time to correct the house-elf's slurs right now. "So they're in a meeting," he repeated, feeling better, "at least nobody's had an accident."

Kreacher immediately showed a very funny expression. "This is only temporary," he said loudly, "Miss Bella will definitely come to Kreacher soon, and she will help Kreacher drive away all the rubbish!"

Harry wanted to ask the Order of the Phoenix how to deal with this, but Kreacher's words got his attention away. "It's fine if you know they escaped from prison," he asked suspiciously, "but why are you sure that Bellatrix will come? She at least needs to know this place to come? And she just left Azkaban!"

"You don't think this happened just because it happened, do you?" Kreacher laughed almost tremblingly, "Actually, they already..." He stopped talking suddenly, his lips moved silently , stopped.

"What?" Harry asked sensitively. "Do you mean that Bellatrix and the others already knew that they could escape from prison?" He became more and more suspicious, "Where did you get this information?"

But the house-elf held him by the neck, and wouldn't let go until he was foaming at the mouth. "No, no," he said breathlessly, "no more, Kreacher doesn't know anything..." he muttered to himself, ignoring Harry completely, as he walked up the stairs again.

"Wait, Kreacher!" Harry yelled, unsuccessfully this time.He realized that his restraint on the house-elf was still too weak, and that it would be best to turn to Sirius for help; now, he could only stare at the empty living room, thinking about what the house-elf had said—

That might be true, the ten Death Eaters knew they would be able to leave Azkaban; and if it was true, it would not only show that Voldemort had a plan, but also that Kreacher had private connections with the Death Eaters.The Death Eater wasn't in prison, and was part of the Black family, so he was able to summon Kreacher and give Kreacher orders...

Harry soon remembered the name that stood alongside Bellatrix on the Black family tapestry - Narcissa Malfoy, one of Sirius' cousins.The Malfoys have always been fans of Voldemort...

He thumped the ground hard and straightened back, taking his head off the fire.Umbridge hadn't returned from the night watch, which was fine, because he had to go to the Room of Requirement immediately.

When Harry rushed up to the corner of the stairs on the eighth floor, panting, he found Mrs. Norris, with a pair of bulbous eyes, still wandering in the corridor.He purposely knocked down a pair of armor in the corner, walked back and forth three times quickly while it was attracted by the loud noise, and nimbly got into the door.

After being forced to bring the diadem to Voldemort, Harry rarely entered the great room where his belongings were kept.In fact, the first few times he had searched for the portrait in order to confirm Voldemort's tracks, it was always empty.

Same thing today.No matter how much Harry yelled, or used Parseltongue, neither it nor the locket seemed to respond in the slightest.

Harry was almost desperate.He lit a candle that had been dimmed with age, and sat cross-legged on the dusty ground.Although he has realized that, like the soul connection, the switch of whether he can meet Voldemort is unilaterally in the hands of the Dark Lord, but he still doesn't want to give up.

If only he knew where the Dark Lord lived, he thought irritably, so he could go straight there via the Floo network.

That might be why Voldemort never met him on his own turf, he thought sullenly, avoiding the possibility of exposing himself while still serving his purpose...

For the rest, Harry doesn't know the Portkey spell, and he hasn't learned Apparation... But it's useless if he knows it, because he still doesn't know where the Dark Lord is.

Wanting to do something, but unable to do anything, Harry couldn't help feeling sorry for himself.For a while, he secretly hated that he didn't study well enough and didn't know enough methods, and for a while he regretted that his ability to formulate words was too weak, and he was blocked by Voldemort every time.

But whether it's secret hatred or regret, it doesn't help at all.Harry desperately wanted to meet Voldemort now, in whatever form...

Suddenly, there was a slight creaking sound.Harry was so absorbed in his troubles that he didn't pay attention at first.When the movement was too loud to be ignored, he looked up and was immediately terrified by what he saw——

The blank portrait on the wall was gone, replaced by a dark, square opening.

Harry stood up cautiously, taking out his holly wand at the same time.After confirming that there was no movement inside, he grabbed the candle on one side and slowly approached the hole with the help of a few wooden crates.The candle flickered, making him realize that there might be a passage inside, the kind with another exit.

...But whether it is or not, this passageway is too small, right?

Harry couldn't help gesticulating with the palm of his hand.But before the measurement was completed, he watched the opening of the hole stretch and become bigger, and soon enough for a person to walk in.

Given that he had seen a portrait of Voldemort as a young man, did that mean the passage led somewhere where Voldemort lived?

Harry didn't know if his guess was right, or if there was an unknown danger in it.When the hole was almost as high as a person, he no longer hesitated, and got in.

It was as dark inside as it looked outside, and the road was not smooth.First is the downward staircase, which is a long section; then the flat road, which is longer.There seemed to be nothing on the road, no water, no sound, only the echo of his footsteps: black and rough stone walls on both sides, and the top was too dark to see anything, and the same in front of him.

Harry looked around alertly with his ears pricked up at first, but quickly gave up on this pointless behavior.The journey was so far that he began to wonder idly, maybe that was why the portrait of Voldemort was reluctant to show up.

By the time the passage finally felt a little different, Harry's legs were leaden and his stomach was hungry.He had reason to think he went from night to dawn.The candle had long since burned out, and he raised his wand aloft, looking around with fluorescent flashes—

He came to a place similar to a fork in the road, and visually observed that there were at least four new roads, all of which were dark in different directions.

Harry felt that the number of intersections might have something to do with the number of Voldemort's portraits.If this guess is true, it means that only one path is correct, because the rest must lead to the home of some die-hard Death Eater.

He didn't want to spend a lot of time walking to Malfoy's house... er, no, the portrait at Malfoy's house should be the one he was going to; after all, if Malfoy got back the glory in the eyes of the Death Eaters, he would definitely It's impossible for him not to know...

Harry sat on the floor, wanting to rest for a while and think.

He certainly can't go all the way, he doesn't have that much time and energy.And if only one path is correct, it must be different in some ways from the others...

Thinking of the candle flames he had seen before, shaken by the draft, Harry understood.He got up, conjured a handful of flames with his wand, and tried every fork in the road.Sure enough, apart from the direction he came from, there was only one path where there was wind.The conclusion was obvious, and he walked right in.

It was another long journey, so long that Harry regretted not having brought the fire gun - even though it was still locked in Umbridge's place.But he finally insisted on walking to the end and ushered in the upward ladder.According to the law, he felt that when he climbed to the top, it should be the exit.

That guess turned out to be correct, even if it took Harry a lot more time and effort.As he scrambled, breathless, on the last step, he realized that all his hard work had paid off—

He could see a dimly lit room full of books.The upper part of an armchair, with its dark velvet back, is flanked by Gothic ornate pointed arches.The heavy curtains were drawn tightly, completely shielding possible prying eyes from outside.There was a slight crackling sound, which should be the movement of the flame licking the wood.

as if no one...

Harry straightened up slowly, taking a cautious step forward.Then he noticed that the portrait was hanging above the fireplace, so as soon as he went out, he would step on those piles of books that were crumbling, or a crystal ball that looked fragile.

Neither option sounds very good.Harry looked at the thick wool carpet on the floor, took half a step back, and then jumped out in one go.

With a dull sound, he landed not far from the fireplace.Suspecting that the movement might have attracted or touched something, he gripped his wand tightly as his feet, so limp as his own, eased.But after a while, there was still no movement.

Harry looked around, then tiptoed over to the window and lifted a crack in the curtain with his wand.Outside is the mountain forest, and the sunlight is cast down in jagged and mottled patterns.He walked to the other side and saw the quiet small village in the valley, a few bunches of smoke rising from the kitchen, and the cemetery under the shade of tall yew trees.Under the sunlight at noon, it seemed less gloomy than at night...

Where Voldemort was resurrected!

Harry recognized it immediately.He realized that he was in the big house on the hillside which he had seen from afar in the cemetery—

This is indeed the dwelling place of the Dark Lord!

Harry lowered the curtains and turned to study the interior of the room.Books piled up to the ceiling, many of them in runes, an alphabet he didn't know.He took a rough walk around, realizing that the most comprehensible title in sight was probably History of the Founding of Yvermony, but he couldn't see why Voldemort would want to read it.In fact, apart from the chair and the roaring fire, he saw no sign of the place being inhabited at all.

Maybe it's Voldemort's library?The living room is in another room?

Harry guessed, looking around.Against the backdrop of the books, he easily found a gleaming silver ring with two-headed snakes on the table.Is that a dark magic item?

Out of caution, Harry left it alone.In a blink of an eye, he noticed the base under the crystal ball again because his name was engraved on it.

"Dark Lord and Harry Potter?" he said inexplicably, wondering why their names were etched together. "SPTtoA.PWBD?" What does this mean?

Seriously, whatever it was, what was Voldemort doing with his stuff in his study?

Just when Harry was thinking about whether he could touch this, suddenly there were words from far to near, mixed with the sound of footsteps.Someone is going upstairs... He froze for a moment, not knowing how to react.There is only one door in this room, and there is nowhere to hide!

But someone first made the decision for him. "...It's surprising that I have guests here," said a cold and familiar voice, which sounded like it had already reached the landing outside. "You go downstairs and wait."

Harry heard no answer.There was another creak of wooden stairs, as if some Death Eater had followed his word and went downstairs.He stood there with his wand involuntarily clenched in his fingers.

The concealed door opened silently.First the corner of the robe, then the face, the man's tall and thin figure emerged bit by bit from the darkness.

"Harry Potter," hissed Voldemort, "what are you doing here?"

The author has something to say:

Here, the v you want is here【.

Another good news is that there will be no abuse as I predicted before.