The cabin

Cautiously, they ventured into the forest in silence. Even if Lord-Harry's scar hadn't been burning regularly, they would have had no doubt that they were in the right place. The air was saturated with dark magic to the point that the vegetation seemed to have been affected. Everywhere rose groves of black grass with a menacing appearance, and the trees seemed twisted, almost tortured. However, Harry Dursley felt less affected than the first time he had come. Probably because he was no longer a Horcrux, he thought.

Very quickly, they came across an old ruined cabin that Harry Dursley immediately recognized. Too quickly, they thought. During the journey, Harry Dursley had warned them. The place would probably be protected and concealed by powerful spells. Yet here, it was as if he had been guided to get there as quickly as possible. However, despite their wariness, they had no choice but to continue.

Lords Harry went ahead of their small group and made a series of silent gestures to his friends that reminded Harry Dursley of those the military used to communicate discreetly among themselves. Immediately, the others formed a combat formation allowing each to cover the blind spots of the others. Apparently, this was not their first adventure of this type together.

Then with the tip of his wand, Lords Harry pushed the half-broken door which opened with a sinister creak. One by one, they entered the abandoned shack. The interior was dark and filled with dust.

It's too quiet. I don't really like that. I prefer when it's a bit less calm. Declared Neville, frantically pointing his wand in all directions.

There's nothing here but dust. We're going to get the punishment of the century for nothing. Commented Elizabeth, looking with disgust at a pile of debris from which a rat had just escaped.

Maybe in this universe Voldemort hid the stone in another place, defended Harry Dursley, who sensed a slight accusation in Elizabeth's words.

Or else we arrive too late. Maybe Voldemort has already passed through. Suggested Lucas Cross, who with Jenny had stayed on the doorstep of the house to guard the entrance.

Silence! And stay on your guard. There is something dangerous here, I can feel it. Declared Lord Harry in an authoritative tone while nonchalantly rubbing his scar.

You don't know how right you are, declared a murderous voice.

A gust of icy wind closed the door and suddenly threatening darkness invaded the single room that made up the old shelter.

Neville rushed against the door and unsuccessfully tried to open it with all his strength.

Jenny! Lucas! Can you hear me? Open up, we're stuck. He shouted without receiving a response, pounding on the door.

Then he moved away violently. With a sinister noise accompanied by a distant laugh, the walls had begun to close in.

I already told you that I am claustrophobic, commented Harry Dursley.

Try the windows. Shouted Lord Harry.

First, we need to know where she is. Harry Dursley replied sarcastically.

You're the one who brought us here. Wouldn't you have an idea to get us out of this? Elizabeth asked with animosity.

You were the one who insisted on coming. I didn't ask you for anything. Harry Dursley replied irritably.

Good, everyone stay calm and regroup. Ordered Lords Harry.

But his order was completely useless, because very quickly, the advancing walls left them no choice but to huddle together to escape the tide of debris and destroyed furniture that accompanied the inexorable shrinking of the room.

At a gesture from Lord Harry, they formed a circle back to back (Harry Dursley hadn't understood the signal, but had spontaneously imitated the position of the other two).

Now that we are sure not to touch anyone, let each one try all the spells they know to get us out of here.

Bombarda

Plague Fire

Reducto

Bombarda Maxima

Confringo

Diffindo

But despite all efforts, their magic was absorbed by the walls that continued to advance. Only Harry Dursley's Fiendfyre managed for a time to slow the inexorable advance of the deadly walls, but it ended up being absorbed like the other spells with a loud belch. He continued nevertheless until they were so tightly pressed against each other that it became impossible for him to cast his favorite spell without burning them alive. What followed was just a succession of panicked screams that Harry Dursley could barely remember. Then they were so tightly pressed that he could no longer breathe properly. As he fainted from lack of oxygen, he had one last thought: "Usually dying wasn't this painful."

oOoOoOo

It had now been more than an hour since they had entered the dark forest and Dark-Harry had not heard anything from his doubles or the other teenagers. The place was curiously silent. While it was in the middle ofSummer, not a single sound emanated from the old forest. Not a bird sound. Not even the rustling of leaves. Even a Muggle would have understood that something was wrong with this forest.

To pass the time, he tried to practice casting spells with his wand, but for some reason he didn't understand, it was much harder than with the elder wand. Not only were his expelliarmus reduced to weak, harmless glows, but most importantly, the exhilarating feeling of power he felt when using the ancient wand had vanished. Instead, he felt like something was resisting him, and it quickly exhausted him.

You know they won't come back? Reasoned a smooth voice behind him.

Dark-Harry jumped and turned so quickly that his neck cracked. On the threshold of the only path connecting this cursed place to the outside world stood a young man with aristocratic features. Despite his charming appearance and casual posture, a cold sweat ran down Dark-Harry's back. In a panicked gesture, he tried to attack, but his wand slipped through his fingers and fell with a thud between the young man and him.

Your Muggles didn't teach you the most basic rule of politeness: never attack first, especially when facing someone stronger than yourself. Nargua Tom with a little seductive smile.

You tried to kill me. Exclaimed Dark-Harry who was still trembling at the memory of that moment when he thought he was leaving. In his head, a small voice resembling Vernon's pointed out that a few moments later, the one he had quickly learned to consider as an older brother had burned him alive (supposedly for his own good and that of the entire world).

For what it's worth, I'm sincerely sorry. For that and for everything you had to endure because of me. Apologized Tom Riddle.

What!? exclaimed Dark-Harry, who expected anything but an apology.

Of course, I doubt you believe me, or that it makes a difference, but know that the experience of death has... regenerated me. I hadn't realized what I had sacrificed on the path to immortality. And I owe it to you. Voldemort explained, extending his hand to him.

What did you do with the others? Asked Dark-harry, stepping back.

Me!? I did nothing to them. I did indeed move my horcrux several hours ago. And what do you think Lord Voldemort would want with a bunch of pre-pubescent teenagers? Tom Riddle replied with a face that exuded honesty.

Why did you say they wouldn't come back, then?

Oh, come on, you're smart enough to understand it yourself. You're like me: too different to be accepted by the rest of this swarming and inconsequential mass.

You are lying. He would never abandon me. And we have nothing in common.

Not now. But when I was young, you and I were the same. Like you, I grew up an orphan in the Muggle world. Like you, the adults I was entrusted to hated me out of ignorance for what I was, at an age when I didn't even know myself who I was. You and I are like insects drawn to the light. So eager for warmth that we are ready to destroy ourselves just to get closer to it. But in the end, only pain will answer our hopes. Deep down, you already know it. You understood it when he raised his wand against you. As soon as he understood what you were, how marked by darkness you were, he decided to abandon you. How can you blame him when even your parents rejected you, disgusted by the stain they saw in you?

What do you want from me? Dark-Harry replied in a harsh tone, masking his emotions as best he could.

You are pragmatic, Lord Voldemort respects that. I want you to help me seize the power of the relics.

Find yourself another sucker. I've already given.

I fear unfortunately that you have little choice. You are alone now. Alone in a world that is not ours. How long before you succumb to the effects of the journey? You need the relics as much as I do, and alone, you will never manage to obtain them.

Dark-harry hesitated for a long time. Despite Voldemort growing impatient next to him, he remained silent, casting regular and anxious glances toward the edge of the forest, which was desperately still. Then, seeing nothing coming, he nodded with visible reluctance.

Good. The first urgency is for you to get the cloak, commented Tom Riddle with satisfaction.