The faint hope Harry had harboured that Riddle was planning a different path crashed and burned, his stomach swooping and hands starting to tremble. His fear made him angrier, and anger made Harry reckless. He spoke to wound, desperate to flay Riddle’s confidence without any thought to the consequences. "I know that you’ll be defeated. That you barely lasted a decade as a Dark Lord before failing, becoming some weak, shadowy thing. I know that if you do this, if you open the Chamber and follow this path, you will fail." Harry let every inch of disdain he felt for Voldemort into his voice, and none of the fear.