[HP] Similar but different

The guesswork behind it was so bold that Harry didn't even consider telling the second person.All Monday, he couldn't get the thought out of his head.As he fell asleep at night, he made up his mind to figure this out before the Horcrux problem.

Because of this, Harry kept his eyes on Voldemort intently during Defense Against the Dark Arts class the next morning.He swore he'd never taken his lessons so seriously, so he was sure that Voldemort had been as tight-knit in teaching Occlumency as Barty Crouch Jr. was.

Having come last twice, Harry was sure he was doing better than last week, but Voldemort said nothing.After class, he started clearing the table, but he noticed that the Patil sisters exchanged quiet glances before they walked to the edge of the platform together.They might be asking Voldemort a question, but the flushed cheeks from the excitement are very conspicuous.

"Come on, Harry." Ron couldn't help urging.

Harry recovered, only to notice that his movements had slowed down for some time. "I just want to know when the next tutoring session is," he explained in a low voice, "I don't want Malfoy to tell me."

"This..." Ron looked up subconsciously.The blond Slytherin hadn't left yet, but his schoolbag was already packed.

I don't know whether it was accidental or inevitable, but Voldemort spoke at this moment. "Draco," he called Malfoy, "come to my office later, I have something to tell you."

"Yes, Professor," Malfoy replied immediately, as if he had been waiting for this moment.

Harry saw the uncontrollable jealousy on Theodore Nott's face.He turned to the podium again, and the Patil sisters were turning around with their books in their hands, secretly giving each other a V sign.When Voldemort saw Malfoy standing up, he walked out first.

These pictures also fell into Ron's eyes. "I think you have to put up with Malfoy one more time." He analyzed objectively, "Come on, Hermione is waiting at the door."

Although Harry was not very reconciled, he knew that Ron was right, so he had to speed up.

Sure enough, at lunchtime, Malfoy found Harry again.This time, he didn't seem to intend to keep it secret, and said directly as soon as he reached a secluded place: "At seven o'clock tomorrow night, the Dark Lord's office."

"Why can't he tell me by himself?" Harry couldn't hold back his questioning, "I need you to tell me about a single sentence?"

Malfoy had already planned to leave, but when he heard this, he stopped and his gray eyes widened. "What are you thinking, Potter?" His expression was extremely funny like Harry's. "Of course the Dark Lord is looking for me for a serious business, and you are just incidental!"

"...What?" Harry was surprised, and his attention was immediately diverted, "He has business with you? What business?"

"Why should I tell you?" Malfoy asked back, not to say that he was not complacent.He raised his foot again, but stopped halfway again, looked Harry up and down, and suddenly realized: "You don't think that you are more important than me in the eyes of the Dark Lord, do you?"

Harry opened his mouth and found himself unable to refute.

"That's the funniest thing I've heard lately." Malfoy couldn't help but laugh. "Tell me, are you dreaming, Potter? If the Dark Lord pays special attention to you, it's because he wants to kill you himself!"

Harry still couldn't say anything.

Malfoy laughed for a while before barely stopping. "If I were you," he leaned closer to Harry, his tone dark, "I would quickly learn a few ways to save my life, so that I can live a few more days."

Leaving this sentence behind, Malfoy swaggered away.Harry stood alone in the middle of the dimly lit corridor, motionless, his fists clenched unconsciously.

that night.

A few white candles burned steadily in mid-air, quietly illuminating the surrounding scenery—thick lead-gray stone walls, stacks of books scattered high and low; Medicine shelves crowded in the corner.

"Seven o'clock tomorrow night," the man sitting on the high-back chair suddenly said, his eyes still on the parchment in his hand, "I told you last time."

The portrait was dozing off, and upon hearing this, he opened his eyes. "The boy learns so fast?"

Voldemort moved his fingers so that he could see the part of the parchment that had been hanging down. "No," he didn't look up, "I think he may need time to adapt. In addition, the long-term continuous acceptance of Legilimency will not be good for his already weak emotional control."

"That is to say, you want me to supervise him to empty his brain in order to consolidate his learning achievements?" The portrait nodded. "No problem. But how long do you think it will take him to learn?"

"No matter how long it takes, he must learn it," Voldemort replied icily.After a short pause, he slowed down his tone: "Since it can't be done in a short period of time, I can only let you watch him for me."

The portrait nodded again. "In order to ensure that he doesn't read your thoughts, he really has to..." He didn't continue, but changed the question: "After that, have you figured out what to do with him?"

Voldemort's fingers moving the parchment stopped.For a long time, he raised his head, but stared at the silver ring, "Maybe..."

There is a rare hesitation in it, which can be heard in the portrait. "I know what you are worrying about." He said understandingly, also looking in the direction of the ring, "Killing him is no longer a good choice, and keeping him is also a trouble."

You don't need a portrait to point it out, Voldemort knows it too.It was he himself who turned Harry into a hot potato that was getting harder and harder to deal with.Prophecies, souls, wands, blood, all messed up; the boy is reckless, and seems to only really resist Legilimency when it comes to certain intimate encounters...

Annoying enough, Voldemort had firmly dismissed the images he had seen in Harry's head.He's really not interested in the Savior's love life; he desperately hopes that Harry won't show him his girlfriends and what they're doing together again.

"Then just wait," the portrait finally said thoughtfully, "this thing can't go wrong again, we have plenty of time."

Harry was even more confused about Voldemort's thoughts than the portrait.At seven o'clock on Wednesday night, as soon as he stepped into the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor's office, he yelled out in shock: "You... what's going on?!"

The room was empty, except for a familiar portrait smirking at him. "It's the same as what you saw." The young man who looked younger than Voldemort himself said in a deliberately hurt tone, "But I thought you would be happy... Don't mention that we will meet again after a long absence, at least I won't Legilimency for you, isn't it?"

Harry didn't want to argue with the portrait about reuniting after a long absence. "No Legilimency?" He asked back, his tone almost questioning, "But I thought I was here to learn Occlumency?"

"Learning Occlumency is not the same as being Legilimency," Tom immediately pointed out Harry's wrong concept, "Besides," he smacked his mouth slightly, as if helplessly, "you are too excitable, and you have been under Legilimency for a long time." It will only have the opposite effect.”

Harry suddenly thought of Snape's utterly failed tutoring. "But that still doesn't explain why it's you today?" He said unhappily, "Malfoy didn't tell me this!"

Tom gave a narrow smile. "Oh, don't worry about Draco." He drawled slightly, "Now we're talking about you, and Occlumency. If nothing else, I want you to sit down, close your eyes, and Don't think about anything for a while."

But Harry glared at him and folded his arms in resistance. "Why doesn't he come?"

"Which one?" Tom asked knowingly.

Harry was going to be smoking with rage. "Don't play dumb!" he shouted. "Where's Voldemort?"

Tom plucked his ears in a mocking manner. "I thought you'd somehow learned some restraint—at least not by that name—but it doesn't look like you're doing it now."

Harry continued to stare at him without saying a word, vowing to get an answer.

Seeing that he couldn't be fooled, Tom reluctantly spread his palms. "He's busy, he's got other things to do—do you have to make me be so blunt?"

Harry was still standing there angrily.Needless to say, if you continue to ask what Voldemort is doing, you will not get any useful answers.But he couldn't figure out why Voldemort had given him this - hadn't last week been going so well?And it wasn't him who first proposed tutoring! "Will you give me tutoring next time?" He asked, almost questioning.

"Don't look at me so vigilantly, I promise this errand is not for me." Tom looked more and more innocent, "I'm just his portrait, I will do whatever he asks me-and he hasn't said anything yet What to do next time, that's it."

Realizing that this was all true, Harry reluctantly lowered his arm.

For the next time, he sat cross-legged on the ground, trying to think about nothing.But that was too difficult: he couldn't help but think about what the Dark Lord's actions meant afterward, and then he became more and more angry—

Why did Voldemort come here as he thought?Even if there is no explanation, at least you have to tell him first, right?

About eight o'clock Tom returned to his picture frame in the stone house.Voldemort was away, and he waited patiently.As soon as the man's figure appeared in the middle of the room, he immediately said: "He is very angry."

"...Huh?" Voldemort didn't react for a while, and it took half a second before he got on the number. "What happened? What did you say?"

Tom immediately held up both hands to show his innocence. "I promise I didn't say anything to irritate him," he clarified, "but he got mad when he saw me."

Voldemort raised his eyebrows, puzzled. "Why?" He began to take off the traveling cloak on his body. "You better explain clearly."

"Well," Tom cleared his throat, "he minded me rather than you, terribly minded."

Voldemort was even more inexplicable.He walked around the small table and threw the cloak over the high-backed chair. "I still don't understand the logic - do I need to go myself to watch him empty his mind?"

"I don't think so," replied Tom quickly, "but apparently he doesn't think so."

Voldemort leaned on the back of his chair and thought for a while. "Can I conclude from this that today's tutoring has no results?"

"It's half the effort with twice the effort," Tom affirmed.He stared at Voldemort for a while before saying, "Don't you think..."

Voldemort was still thinking about the progress of his tutoring, and he didn't care much about the hesitation at the end of the other party's words: "What do I think?"

"I think he cares too much about you." Tom simply stated his observations directly.

Voldemort looked up, looking at his own portrait with a "are you stupid" expression. "Are you serious?" he asked in disbelief. "I'll just give you an example—if you unexpectedly lived and died with someone else, would you care about that person?"

Of course Tom knew the reason. "But I think his anger has nothing to do with living and dying together."

Voldemort waved his hand casually. "That's probably because he didn't get what he wanted." He sat down on the high-back chair, "Don't I know him well enough? He wants everyone's attention and everyone's recognition... He paused, his voice lowered: "Just like me back then."

This reason convinced Tom. "That makes sense." He nodded and asked again, "Then next time..."

"It's better for you to go." Voldemort said without hesitation, with a cold tone, "If this little emotion can't be overcome, does he still want to learn Occlumency well?"

The author has something to say:

Excerpts from the Diary of the Brave:

You are petty, your whole family is petty! ╰_╯