A slow smile spread across Riddle’s face. It was not a pleasant smile, for all that he still looked maddeningly handsome, with his straight white teeth and perfect hair and smooth skin. Between the deranged spark in his eye and the predator’s grin, Harry had never seen Riddle look more like Voldemort, in aura if not in appearance. Riddle’s mask was off, and Harry felt thrilled to see behind it, the same bubbling anticipation he got before a quidditch game rising in his chest.  