[HP] Similar but different

Voldemort was already standing by the window, about to cast his flying spell.Hearing this, he was a little confused: "What?"

Harry didn't raise his eyes immediately. "You care about that," he repeated, unaware that his heart was beating slowly, "even though you acted like you didn't want to mention it at all..."

"I don't want to...?" Voldemort's wonder disappeared after half a sentence, and he figured out what Harry was referring to. “I thought we had an agreement on how to handle that,” he said, becoming deadpan.

"Only then," whispered Harry, "because I was too shocked to notice something I should have noticed."

"I don't understand what you're saying," said Voldemort, rather flatly.

"Scar." Harry replied immediately, raising his eyelids at the same time so that their eyes met. "It always hurt me to receive your thoughts before. Why didn't it respond then?"

Voldemort sneered. "If you're serious," he said softly, "you'll find that what you're saying has a necessary premise—when my Occlumency works, of course your scar won't hurt."

"But I read your emotions!" Harry argued, "You were surprised - just like me - nothing else!"

"Wait, do you expect to fully understand what I'm thinking in less than a second?" Voldemort rubbed his forehead, as if trying to endure Harry's stupidity, "I don't know whether you look down on me or You think too highly of yourself."

Harry couldn't argue with that. "But that's a knee-jerk reaction!" He went on to list the reasons.

"Subconscious?" Voldemort repeated, with a funny look on his face. "Even if you're right, what do you mean by this? Didn't I think of killing you then? Or did I subconsciously not want to kill you?"

The verb "to kill" made Harry shudder, but he still stared bravely at the Dark Lord. "Not only then," he said softly, continuing his earlier point, "everything you've done since then has been saying you care about that, Tom."

Voldemort's eyes widened slightly, exasperated. "How dare you..." As if realizing something, he suddenly took a deep breath, suppressed the previous anger, and resumed his flat tone. "You seem to be deeply delusional. I'll just say it—however you come to your conclusion, it's undeniably wrong, and terribly wrong."

At the moment "Tom" exited, Harry was keenly aware that the invisible high wall of thinking between them was shaking. "But I don't think so." He said quickly, without giving the other a chance to interrupt, "After that, you started to keep a distance from me! No matter what you do or say! You call me It's just a title, but let me tell you, you obviously care about what you see in my head!"

"I've seen too many things in your head." Voldemort immediately responded with a serious sneer.

Harry squeezed his eyes shut. "Cho," he said desperately, "you saw her and the mistletoe, didn't you? I assume you know that whoever's under the mistletoe can't refuse a kiss?"

There was a moment of deathly silence in the room.

It took a long time for Voldemort to break the tense, almost terrifying silence. "You'd better hear what I'm going to say next, Harry, because I won't repeat it. First, I hope you'll do me a favor and don't let me see something like this again, because I'm sorry for you and your daughter. No interest in what friends do. Second, if I'm not mistaken, are you implying that I like you by saying I care about that?"

Harry didn't speak right away.He even looked away immediately, because he found that the moment he heard "like", his heart beat so violently that it almost rushed out of his throat.

"Tell me, Harry, do you believe that?" Voldemort asked aggressively.

Harry lowered his head halfway and shook his head slightly.But on the contrary, there is a scorching longing that emerges from the bottom of his heart, like a very hungry beast smelling the aroma of fresh flesh, eager to eat a big meal; trembling climbed up his spine, he didn't know whether he should pay it or not. Actions...

"Very well," Voldemort said flatly for the third time, "you finally realize that you are wasting Voldemort's precious time with meaningless topics. So..."

"I'm going to try again." Harry said abruptly.

Voldemort paused, as if suspecting he had heard wrong. "Say it again?"

"Didn't you say I was wrong?" Harry looked up sharply, staring into those jet eyes, "then prove it to me, Tom. It won't take you long, and Injury doesn't matter, does it?"

For a moment, Harry thought he saw a flash of dangerous red in Voldemort's eyes.But the next moment, Voldemort took another deep breath. "That's a very stupid suggestion, I must say, Harry. Are you sure you haven't had another heavy rain lately or something?"

"Of course not!" Harry denied angrily.

"Aha, that's Dumbledore's new plan?" said Voldemort again, sarcastically, "and you agreed to it?"

"Having nothing to do with Dumbledore," Harry denied again, "stop changing the subject - that's not what you're seeing in my head now, is it?"

"I don't see anything," said Voldemort without batting an eye.

"Lie!" Harry yelled, walking briskly closer to Voldemort - he couldn't take it any longer. "Look me in the eyes and prove to me that my conclusions are wrong! Didn't you say you didn't care? So what's the point of doing it again?"

Seeing that the distance between the two shortened, the muscles on Voldemort's cheeks twitched slightly. "One cannot step into the same river twice, Harry," he warned in a low voice.

Harry stood still two steps away from the black robe wizard. "What exactly are you trying to say?" He raised his head, staring at the handsome face that looked very indifferent, more and more wanting to know the truth covered up underneath. "This time is definitely different from the last time. I know that this time can't be reversed to the last time? Or—" he deliberately dragged his voice, "Are you afraid?"

Voldemort's expression tightened. "Don't try to provoke me," he hissed, "you don't want to know the consequences."

"Okay." Harry nodded kindly, still staring into those eyes. "After time and injury, you are not afraid—" He spread his hands and looked helpless, "Then tell me, what reason do you have to object?"

"What's the use of you proving that?" Voldemort hissed softly. "There's no need, no point..."

"I said I don't think so!" Harry retorted immediately, and took another big step forward, "I want to find out, I have to find out!"

Voldemort was still standing where he was, and the distance between the two had shortened enough to be called ambiguous. "Don't be a fool, Harry," he warned again, "you're bound to regret it."

"Isn't that better? It will prove you right?" Harry retorted sharply, not knowing that he would one day have the upper hand in a verbal battle with Slytherin.At this moment, they were close enough for him to touch each other invisibly - the cold and oppressive magic was agitating, like a liquid about to boil; he was so excited that the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end.

The development of the situation has seriously exceeded Voldemort's previous expectations.He could see that Harry was determined, and he couldn't come up with a convincing reason.He froze, nailed to the ground by his conflicted heart—

It was all wrong, terribly wrong, and he couldn't let it go like this; but on the other hand, he did see what was going on in Harry's head.Those pictures had nothing to do with being explicit, and they were so innocent that people could mock the savior for nothing; but he couldn't look away, couldn't move his feet, and couldn't help recalling those emerald eyes with watery eyes, and He had the urge to hug the boy for a moment...

How the hell did this happen?He was confused and puzzled.Of course, he could have flung his sleeves and walked away, Harry couldn't stop him, but that would be a real escape; there must be some other way to stop the Savior, it's just that he hasn't thought of it yet...

The boy's face was already enlarged before his eyes.A soft kiss fell on his lips as a hand rested on his shoulder.Contrary to the action, the emotion pouring in at the same time is much more violent——

Mr Potter?Seriously Voldemort?I'm probably angry...

He pushed open the door of the office and saw that there were only portraits inside, and his heart sank to the bottom...

Malfoy said that if Voldemort valued him more, it was because he wanted to kill him with his own hands, his nails digging into his palms...

On the court, the man glanced at the head from a distance, then turned and flew away, with a strange knot in his heart...

It was raining heavily outside the teahouse, Qiu approached him under the mistletoe, but he retreated unconsciously, which made her ashamed and embarrassed...

Suddenly Voldemort understood.There are indeed ways to stop Harry, but not taunts or threats - as long as he says "I don't want you" in the first place.

"You're right," said Harry's head against his chest at some point, "but it's too late." He kept shaking his head, his voice was like crying and laughing, "None of us can go back .”

Voldemort realized that Harry's warm fingers were still on the bare skin around his neck.He could have pulled him away and pretended it didn't happen...

"How dare you?" Harry looked up instantly, in utter disbelief, "when none of this happened? After we already knew we felt the same way about each other?"

There was silence in the room.The previous denials were meaningless, and Voldemort swallowed silently. "However that was the wrong decision, Harry." The sentences seemed to be squeezed out of some squashed pipe, but he wasn't going to pay attention to it any more than he was going to stare at the glistening water in the corner of Harry's eyes. The marks look the same. "You know what I'm talking about."

Harry stared at him in shock. "You..." He let go of his hand, took a step back, and took another step.Then he turned and rushed for the door, only to slow again at the end. "Maybe you can fool everyone, including me," he said to the door without looking back, "but can you really fool yourself all the time?"

no respond.

Harry took a deep breath, trying to resist the urge to do it.All that needs to be said has been said; he doesn't want to appear to be the less calm of the two.But when he put on the handle, there was a strong force, and he was forced to stick to the door panel. "Let go of me!" He growled angrily, struggling hard.

That force actually loosened.Anger quickly turned to frustration and bewilderment, and Harry turned around reflexively—then he was imprisoned again, and the oak door creaked heavily.

The two stared at each other in the distance where the breath intersected.The only candle in the room was hidden behind Voldemort, and their faces were cast in bleak shadow.No one spoke, but the air slowly became thinner; even breathing faster could not relieve the suffocation.

Harry felt as if his heart was beating wildly in his ears, so loud that he couldn't find something else to do.And he almost didn't dare to look directly into those eyes: the ink was rising inside, like a pitch-black flame, and a little scarlet in the depths was breathtaking. "What are you going to do?" He asked, looking at the palms on the side of his head, pretending not to notice that his throat was hoarse, "Since it's an extreme mistake..."

The following words disappeared between the two lips that joined together.The temptations are there only at first; they soon become part of the passion, hot, sticky, and dripping like a rainstorm on a summer afternoon.

Harry wasn't thinking about anything, and he couldn't think about anything.For maybe half a second, he managed to break away from the vortex of desire, realizing that his waist was in Voldemort's arms, and both of his hands were clasped tightly around his shoulders.Soon, he was sucked in again, drowning uncontrollably in the surging pleasure.

Maybe they're all doing it wrong; why does it feel so right?

The author has something to say:

In the last update, I forgot to say that the portrait setting came from harrypotterwiki, but now no one cares about this, right? [Evil](‵▽′)ψ

grateful:

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