[HP] Similar but different

Harry was blown back to the tower like a gust of wind.He intended to take with him everything he thought might be useful, starting with the velvet sack that had been charmed with Traceless Expansion.He stuffed the picture frame first, followed by the invisibility cloak, and finally fired it.Just when he thought it might be about the same, he noticed that it was snowing outside, so he put on an extra thick robe.

He had already made the most blind plans, including riding a fire truck all over Britain in the middle of the night to search for Voldemort.But before taking any chances, he planned to make another trip to Voldemort's office to see if he could find any clues.

As always, the oak door was locked tightly.With no one around, Harry took out his wand and said the relevant spells one by one.

The ring snake's handle remained motionless.Harry thought he might try to go through the window; but before that, he twisted it again—

Hell, the silver snake let go of its fangs with a click as soon as it touched Harry's hand.

Harry was dumbfounded.If he could open it with his hands, what effort had he been wasting before?Or, only his hand can open, plus Voldemort?

Whatever the reason, this matter can be discussed later.Harry withdrew his thoughts, pushed the door open, stepped in, and closed it again.

The curtains are half-closed, and the office is covered with a thin layer of snow light.Harry caught a glimpse of the emptiness of the wall, and his heart sank—his portrait was useless.Immediately afterwards, he lit his wand and walked around—Voldemort's office was actually as clean as it looked, with nothing of value in it.

Harry could only turn his eyes to the locked drawer.Peeping into other people's privacy is shameful, but he can't care less about it now.He thought it might take some work; but when he put his hand on it, the locks popped of their own accord.

It had gone so well that Harry doubted it.The facts also confirmed his suspicions: the first three drawers were all empty.With luck, he opened the last layer and found a silver ring lying quietly in the corner.Judging by its sheen, Voldemort used it a lot.

... what would that be?Portkey?

thought Harry suspiciously.He thought he might be right: thanks to his classmates, he knew Voldemort didn't fly over Hogwarts every day.If the Dark Lord is impatient to be watched, is it convenient for him to keep an illegal portkey in his office?

When Harry entered the office, Voldemort, who was thousands of miles away, had already received the alarm.The restriction he had set for the office was that only he could enter and exit; if anyone but him could open the door, it could only be Harry.

What is the boy doing again?That stupid prom didn't end so quickly, did it?

Voldemort was a little upset.To be honest, he didn't really want to see Harry; just ignoring his savior who was always staring at him in class on Tuesday was enough to test him.Harry undoubtedly wanted to redeem it, and he felt it was better not to give Harry the possibility.You know, Harry has amazing explosive power at critical moments, and he may not be able to resist-this has been proven.

When did he become so softhearted?

Remembering the look on Dumbledore's face when he repeated "our kind", Voldemort felt a chill.Dumbledore seemed to be suggesting that he was becoming like them; the prospect was too dire for him to imagine.

But since Harry acted at this time, there must be some powerful reason behind it...

Voldemort narrowed his eyes and began to think.He didn't think he'd left a clue until he recalled his first meeting with Harry this year - Harry asked him about ghosts, and he thought he'd fooled it.

Reminiscent of the recent conversation with Dumbledore in the bar, Voldemort realized something.Apparently, Harry finally remembered to mention the ghost with Dumbledore not long ago; and Dumbledore, that nosy old bee, would of course check with the ghost, and then discover the truth about the diadem...

Voldemort cursed under his breath.He didn't think Dumbledore couldn't have foreseen how Harry would react when he found out about it; but Dumbledore did it anyway - as evidenced by Harry's barge into his office - it must have been because the discovery could only be hoped for by Harry. Lee asked him to cooperate.

Dumbledore was a genius for not being assigned to Slytherin, Voldemort thought maliciously.But now something else was more urgent: the boy was about to be teleported, what to do?

**

Harry landed on a swamp that seemed familiar.The moisture lingered on the ground, forming brittle icicles as soon as it hit his clothing.All the summer mud had frozen hard, and he was safe to walk on and look around.

Not far away... Must be somewhere around here...

Then he caught the gray shadows in the fog ahead.Looks like a room, he said to himself, walking quickly through it.

It was indeed a room.The ancient shape of the hemisphere, the lead limestone blocks are stacked in the simplest way.There were no windows, and the door frame was so low that Harry figured he'd have to crouch to get in.

Why does it look like it was built hundreds of years ago... Harry wondered.He looked around again, convinced that there was only one fortress-like stone house in sight, and tried to squeeze himself through the creaking wooden doors.

But as soon as he walked through the door, he realized he was in the right place.The space inside is much larger than it looks from the outside, like those tents in the Quidditch World Cup.Neither the mountains of books nor the layers of potion bottles attracted his attention like the smiling man on the high-back chair and the portrait behind him.

"I thought I'd see Harry Potter, not an Inferi called Harry Potter." Voldemort said softly, interest in his eyes and expression. "You do always surprise."

"Uh..." Harry realized then that he had come out in such a hurry that he completely forgot that the makeup was still on. "Leave it alone," he muttered, brushing off the sticky white thread hanging from his head. "You know I'm coming?"

The interest on the man's face disappeared. "Someone has broken into my place, and you think I don't know, Harry?"

Harry subconsciously hid the silver ring back in his hand. "We need to talk," he told himself, "in a calm way."

Voldemort raised an eyebrow, and the portrait reacted similarly. "You mean," he asked flatly, "did I ever yell at you?"

"I..." Harry blushed. "Isn't it..."

"Stop!" Voldemort warned in a deep voice before Harry finished speaking.He didn't look smug; on the contrary, he seemed taken aback. "Don't make it seem like there is something between you and me that needs that kind of thing." With a little irritability, he asked again, "This is definitely not what you want to talk about?"

Harry was sure that was what he wanted to talk about, but the obvious unwelcome attitude made him swallow it back.He could start elsewhere... "I still want to know," he cleared his throat, watching Voldemort's every move, "why did you suddenly cancel tuition last Friday?"

"I thought we had made it very clear." Voldemort looked impatient. "Is there anything new?"

"You didn't explain it at all, so that's called making it clear?" Harry couldn't hold back his retort, and when he recovered, he quickly controlled his tone so that it wouldn't sound too aggressive, "You just said it wasn't what I thought. "

"Oh," Voldemort nodded indifferently, "I've changed my mind; I think you're quite right to think so."

Unexpected to hear such a reply, Harry's eyes widened in disbelief. "Aren't you justifying yourself?"

Voldemort became increasingly expressionless. "have nothing to say."

"You sound like you're being pouty," Harry pointed out, not very pleased.

Voldemort looked slightly surprised. "Damned, me?" he repeated, actually laughing. "You're getting naive, Harry."

Harry was not convinced. "Then why didn't you tell me?"

"You must have an answer?" Voldemort seemed to shake his head helplessly, "Then I'll tell you—because it's a waste of time to tell, just like you and I are doing."

Harry stared intently at the man in the high chair, his lips pursed. "Waste of time? A new excuse to replace 'not necessary'?"

"Whatever you want." Voldemort shrugged. "Let's settle this quickly—" He leaned forward slightly. "I hope to hear some constructive opinions."

Harry stared at Voldemort now. "If you call the last thing you said to me 'constructive,'" he said with alarm and disgust, "you're bound to be disappointed."

Voldemort showed a surprised look. "Why not? That would make things easier. You just have to fight me and nothing else - wouldn't it be nice, Harry?"

"I don't need anyone telling me what to do!" Harry said angrily, taking two heavy steps in place. "Could it be that you stayed here today just to hear me tell you to give up?"

"It's roughly the same." Voldemort leaned back in his chair again. "You still have a chance, but time is running out."

"Not much time?" Harry repeated sarcastically, "because you wanted to run away, didn't you?"

Voldemort's eyes widened slightly, his chest heaved, obviously stimulated by the word "run away". "I'd run away over something like that?" he asked sullenly, "What the hell were you thinking?" After a moment's pause, he smirked again: "But if it prompts you to make a wise decision, I don't mind admit."

Although Harry had been telling himself to stay calm, he was still pissed off. "You just don't explain, right? Is it that hard to tell the truth? Or are you just so eager to leave me?"

As soon as these words came out, the room fell into an eerie silence.Harry was pretty sure the portrait was stunned, out of the corner of his eye.

"I have to remind you to be careful with your words, Harry," Voldemort said softly, expressionless.

"I think I'm right." Harry pushed back stiffly, still angry. "I will not make a decision under the deliberate concealment and misleading of some people!"

The four eyes met in the air, and finally Voldemort turned his eyes away first. "So what are you doing here?" He rubbed the bridge of his nose, with a rare expression of helplessness in his voice.

"I want to know about you." Harry replied immediately, "what do you like, what do you hate; your mood, your thoughts; your past, present, and even your future... All of you!"

The silence was more terrifying than before, and even the crackling of the fire in the fireplace seemed harsher.

"You're asking for something I can't give, Harry." Voldemort dropped his hand.The flame cast a dancing light in his black jade eyes, but it could not reach the depths.

Harry stared at the handsome man who looked like a sculpture for a moment. "I know it's hard for you," he said softly, taking two steps towards Voldemort, "but I know we can—tell me what you really think, and start by canceling tutoring."

The shortened distance seemed to have awakened Voldemort.He raised his eyes, a sarcastic sneer on his lips. "Will you believe me when I tell you?"

"I can't promise, but I'll try," Harry replied, trying to sound honest and reliable, "but if I find out you're lying, I'll..."

"Oh, what are you doing?" Voldemort's sneer became more pronounced. "Give me a powerful jinx? Or just lose your temper at me?"

Harry got stuck instantly - he had imagined the first kind countless times, and he had done the second kind countless times. "I just—" He was annoyed at the advantage he lost in an instant, but a wonderful idea came to his mind so naturally, as if it was already there, waiting for him to use it. "I'll kiss you!" he announced loudly, with the air of certainty.

There was a suffocating silence.There is a kind of tension spreading in it, and more is indescribably subtle.

"From the very beginning, I wanted to ask what are you guys arguing about, but now..." the portrait said in shock, he felt that he could no longer pretend that he didn't exist, "Let me be sure, you guys know that you are really a couple bickering ,Right?"

The author has something to say:

Portrait: What the hell happened somewhere I don't know? !