Harry Potter and the Old Ones

"I was wondering if you could tell me something about Tom Riddle? He was an orphan when he was born, right?" After three rounds of drinking, Dumbledore remained strong, his cheeks already flushed with a smile on his face. Mrs. Cole.

"Oh yes, you must want to know about his past. This is very, very normal." Mrs. Kohler said vaguely, then poured some more wine and drank, "I, I remember it very clearly because I I just got here to work. Well, it was New Year's Eve, it was cold, it was snowing, you know, it was a bad night, and there was a girl, who must not be much older than I was at that time, and she struggled to crawl to She wasn't the first we'd encountered in this situation on our steps. We opened the door quickly and let her in. In about an hour she gave birth to the baby, and an hour after that she died. "

said Mrs. Cole with emotion, and took another long gulp of gin.

"Did she say anything before she died?" Dumbledore said, "For example, who was the father of the child?"

"Oh, I said it, she said it, she said to me, 'I hope he looks like daddy.' Indeed, she is right to think so. She is not very good-looking. To put it bluntly, she looks a bit ugly and a bit... Deformed. Her two eyes cough." Seemingly aware of her gaffe, Mrs. Cole coughed slightly, took a sip of wine, and then continued, "Then she said she was going to name him Tom, For his father, named Marvolo, for her father. Funny, isn't it? We wonder if she's from the circus and then she says the kid's last name is Riddle and then dies.

"That's how we named him. It seemed important to the poor girl, but no Tom or Marvolo or Riddle came to pick him up, so he has lived in the orphanage since then." Mrs. Er said.

Mrs. Cole poured herself another glass of wine almost unconsciously. The two pink blushes on her cheekbones became deeper and deeper, and then she said, "He is an interesting boy."

"Yes, I think he is." Dumbledore said meaningfully.

"No, you don't know what I mean. What I mean is, he was a very interesting little baby. He almost never cried, and then, when he got older, he became very weird."

"What kind of strange method?" Dumbledore asked gently.

Mrs. Cole glanced at him, but there was no ambiguity in the inquisitive glance.

"He will definitely go to your school to study, you just said?" Mrs. Cole did not continue to answer Dumbledore's question, but asked a question.

"Absolutely." Dumbledore assured Mrs. Cole.

"Will what I say affect him?" Mrs. Cole asked again, "I mean, will what I say affect him from studying with you? For example, if I say something bad about him, you will You won’t want him anymore?”

"No." Dumbledore affirmed.

"You will take him away anyway?" Mrs. Cole was obviously still worried.

"Yes, no matter what." Dumbledore said seriously.

She squinted at him as if she was deciding whether to trust him or not, but finally she decided to trust him because her words suddenly came out——

"He scared the other kids."

"You mean he bullies others?" Dumbledore asked.

"I suppose he must be," said Mrs. Cole, frowning slightly, "but it would be difficult to catch him in the act. There are little accidents going on all the time—dirty and annoying things."

Dumbledore didn't rush her.

Mrs. Cole took another swig of gin, and her rosy cheeks grew redder.

"Stubbs' Rabbit - well, Tom said he didn't do it and I can't see how he did it, but even so, the Rabbit wouldn't hang himself on the citron, would he?" Mrs. Er said.

"I don't think so, indeed." Dumbledore said quietly.

"But I would be very surprised if I knew how he did it. All I know is that he and Billy had had a quarrel before that day, and—" Mrs. Cole took another swig of wine. Some spilled down to her chin. "Towards the end of the summer - we take them out, you know, once a year, to the country or the seaside - well, Amy Benson and Dennis walk behind and never It got quiet, and they got separated from us, so they followed Tom Riddle into a cave. He said they were just exploring, but something must have happened there, I'm sure. And, well, there were a lot of interesting things. thing……"

She looked back at Dumbledore, staring at him calmly even though her cheeks were bright red.

"I don't think many people regret his past."

"You know, I'm sure we won't keep him at school forever," said Dumbledore. "He'll be back here, at least, every summer."

"Oh, of course, it's better than being hit in the nose with a rusty iron rod." Mrs. Cole burped slightly. Although two-thirds of the gin had been drunk, Cole The lady still looked calm and composed, "I guess you must want to see him now?"

"Yes, very much," said Dumbledore, standing up as well.

Mrs. Cole then led Dumbledore out of her office and up a stone staircase.

Tiera followed with the other little wizards.

"Here we are," Mrs. Cole said, as they turned the second landing and stopped at the first door of the long corridor.

She knocked twice and went in

"Tom? Good morning, there's a man coming to see you. This is Mr. Dumbledore - sorry, Dumbledore. He's here to tell you - forget it, I'll let him do it," said Mrs. Cole.

Harry and the two Dumbledores entered the room and Mrs. Cole closed the door before them. It was a room with nothing but a large wardrobe and an iron bedstead.

A boy sat on a gray blanket, his legs stretched out in front of them, holding a book.

There was no trace of haggardness on Tom Liddell's face.

Merlop fulfilled his dying wish:

He was a smaller version of his handsome father, tall for an eleven-year-old, dark-haired, and somewhat pale.

He was a little nervous when he saw the weird Dumbledore appear. They were silent for a while.

"I am Professor Dumbledore." Dumbledore introduced himself.

"Professor?" Riddle repeated, looking very wary, "Is it similar to 'doctor'? What are you doing here? Did she ask you to see me?"

He pointed to the door where Mrs. Cole had stood.

"Oh, no, it's not," said Dumbledore, and laughed.

"I don't believe you," Riddle said. "She always likes to find people to come see me, doesn't she? Tell me the truth!"

The last words were spoken very loudly, like a threat.

It was a commanding tone, and it seemed like he often spoke like this.

He stared at Dumbledore with wide eyes, but Dumbledore only smiled kindly. After a few seconds Riddle stopped glaring at him, but was still wary.

"Who are you?" Tom Riddle asked.

"I've already introduced you. I'm Professor Dumbledore, and I work at a school called Hogwarts. I'm here to invite you to our school - your new school, if you like." Dumbledore asked.

Riddle's reaction was astonishing.

He jumped out of bed and ran away from Dumbledore, furious.

"Don't try to lie to me! You are from a mental hospital, aren't you? 'Professor'! Okay, - but what if I don't go? That old cat should go to a mental hospital. I never bully children." Amy Benson and Dennis Bishop, you can ask them and they'll tell you!" Tom Riddle looked terrified.

"Haha, Voldemort was quite cute when he was a child." Someone laughed softly.

"Shhh" Tiera warned gently.

The person who made the noise obviously realized his gaffe, covered his mouth, and continued to watch quietly.

"I'm not from a mental hospital," Dumbledore explained patiently, "I'm a teacher. If you can sit down quietly, I will tell you what kind of place Hogwarts is. Of course, if you really don't want to Go, we won’t force it—”

"I want to see what they can do to me." Riddle said with a smile.

"Hogwarts," Dumbledore continued, as if he hadn't heard what Riddle had just said, "is to accept students with special abilities -"

"I'm not crazy!" Tom Riddle immediately denied.

"I know you are not crazy. Hogwarts is not a madhouse, it is a magic school." Dumbledore said.

Riddle suddenly fell silent and froze. There was no expression on his face, but his eyes were shining, and he looked Dumbledore up and down, as if testing whether he was lying.

"Magic?" he repeated softly.

"Yes," said Dumbledore. "Yes, magic."

"What I did turned out to be magic?" Tom Riddle asked.

"So little Tom, tell me, what will you do?" Dumbledore asked expectantly.

"Everything can be done," Riddle said excitedly.

Excitement rose from his neck to his thin cheeks. He was so excited, "Those iron filings moved without me touching them. Those animals obeyed me without training. If someone messes with me, I can make them suffer." , like getting them hurt or something.”

His back was trembling, and he jumped forward and returned to the bed.

He looked at his hands and lowered his head as if praying.

"I know I'm different," he whispered into his own shaking fingers, "I know I'm special. Always have, I know there's something different."

"Oh, I think you are right," Dumbledore said, his smile gone, and he looked at Riddle intently, "You are a wizard."

Riddle looked up. His face was filled with longing:

There was happiness above him, but for some reason that didn't make him look better. On the contrary, his delicate appearance looked a little rough.

"Are you a wizard too?" Tom Riddle asked.

"Yes, I am," said Dumbledore.

"Prove it to me!" Tom Riddle said immediately, in his usual commanding tone, "Tell the truth."

Dumbledore raised his eyebrows, "If I did, would you go to Hogwarts?"

"Of course!" said Tom Riddle.

"Then you will call me 'Professor' or 'Sir'." Dumbledore smiled like an naughty boy.

Riddle's expression stiffened for a moment before he spoke, and he said in a polite voice, "I'm sorry, sir, I mean, could you please, professor, show me...?"

Dumbledore smiled with satisfaction, then took out his wand from his coat pocket, pointed at the shabby wardrobe in the corner, and casually tapped it with the wand, and the wardrobe suddenly exploded into a ball of flames.

Riddle jumped up and yelled emotionally, all his belongings were in there.

But just as Riddle was shouting around Dumbledore, the flames suddenly disappeared, leaving the wardrobe intact.

Riddle stared at the wardrobe and Dumbledore, then pointed at the wand with a wistful expression, "Where can I get one like that?"

"In due time," said Dumbledore, "I think there is something about this that is trying to escape from your wardrobe."

To be precise, a faint clicking sound came from there. For the first time, Riddle looked a little scared.

"Go and open the door." Dumbledore said calmly.

Riddle hesitated, then walked over and opened the closet door.

On the top floor, atop a pile of shabby clothes, a small cardboard box vibrated and rattled like a few crazed rats hiding inside.

"Open it," said Dumbledore.

Riddle removed the vibrating box.

He looked tired.

"Is there anything in the box that you should have?" Dumbledore asked.

Riddle gave Dumbledore a long, clear, calculating look, "I believe so, sir."

he finally said in an emotionless tone.

Riddle took off the lid and dumped the contents onto his bed without even looking at it—

It was a jumble of little everyday things:

A yo-yo, a silver thimble, a tarnished harmonica.

They stopped shaking after being poured out of the box and lay quietly on the thin blanket.

"You must return them yourself and apologize." Dumbledore put the wand back on his coat and said calmly, "I will know if you have done it and I must give you a warning: Hogwarts has no place for theft. .”

Tom Riddle didn't look very embarrassed. He still stared at Dumbledore calmly with a calculating look.

Finally he said in an emotionless voice, "Yes, sir."

"At Hogwarts," Dumbledore continued unhurriedly, "we taught you not only the use of magic, but also how to control them. Used your powers in permissible ways. You are not the first, nor will you be the last, to have your magic run amok. But you should know that Hogwarts can expel students, and the Ministry of Magic, yes, there is such a department , will punish those who break the law more seriously. All new wizards must accept this. When they enter our world, they must abide by our laws."

"Yes, sir," Riddle said again.

It was impossible for Riddle to tell what he was thinking.

His face still expressionless, Riddle placed the small stolen items back into the carton.

After doing this, he said to Dumbledore, "I don't have any money."

"It's easy," said Dumbledore, taking out a leather purse from his pocket. "This is a fund set up by Hogwarts for students who need grants to buy books and robes. You have to buy textbooks and Some second-hand stuff, but…”

"Where can I buy textbooks?" Riddle interrupted. He took the heavy money bag from Dumbledore without thanking him and was now checking a fat gold galleons.

"In Diagon Alley," said Dumbledore. "I brought a list of the books and equipment you wanted to buy and I can help you find everything."

"You want to come with me?" Riddle raised his head and said.

"Of course, if you..." Dumbledore said.

"I don't need you!" Riddle said immediately, "I'm used to doing things by myself. I've been walking around London alone. How are you going to get to Diagon Alley, sir?"

he added, staring into Dumbledore's eyes.

Dumbledore did not insist anymore, but handed him the envelope, which contained a list of things he needed to buy. Then, he carefully told him how to get from the orphanage to the Broken Ax Bar, and then he said, "You will You'll see, it doesn't matter that you're surrounded by Muggles - non-magical people, that -. Ask the bartender for Tom's name - just remember, when he asks for your name - "

Riddle moved impatiently, trying to shoo away a pesky fly.

"Don't you like the name 'Tom'?" Dumbledore asked.

"There are a lot of people named Tom," Riddle muttered impatiently.

Then, as if he couldn't help but ask the question, as if he suddenly disliked himself, he asked: "Was my father a wizard too? His name was Tom Riddle, too, they told me."

"I'm afraid I don't know that," said Dumbledore, his voice very soft.

"My mother couldn't be a wizard, otherwise she wouldn't be dead," Riddle said, seeming more like saying to himself, "It must be him, so - after I learned all the magic - what did I do? Time to go to Hogwarts?"

"Everything is spelled out on the second piece of parchment in your envelope," said Dumbledore. "You will depart from King's Cross Station in early September, and there is a ticket in it."

Riddle nodded. Dumbledore stood up and held out his hand again. Riddle took his hand and said, "I can talk to snakes. I found them on our way to the outing - they found me, they talked to me. Is this normal for a wizard?"

"Parseltongue!"

I don't know who it was, but I shouted excitedly again.

"Shh" Tiera said.

"It's not common," Dumbledore said after hesitating for a moment, "but it's not unheard of."

His tone was a little casual, but his eyes were curiously directed at Riddle's face.

The man and boy stood staring at each other for a moment.

Then their hands dropped and Dumbledore walked to the door.

"Goodbye, Tom. I'll see you at Hogwarts."

After a few seconds, everything around him turned into a blur of black smoke.

The next moment, everyone appeared in the black magic classroom.

"Okay, students." Tiera stood on the podium and clapped her hands, attracting everyone's attention. "We have finished this class."

"But...but it's only been less than half an hour!" Hermione asked.

Each black magic class usually lasts about two hours.

"The quality of the course does not lie in the length of time, but in what we can learn from it." Tiera said softly, "And I think, compared to letting you stay in the class for nothing, I I think it’s better for you to go to the library, read the Muggle psychology books on the fourth to seventh floors of the fifth bookshelf, and start preparing for your Christmas thesis.”

"Okay, get out of class is over, get out of class is over." Tiera waved her hand gently, and the door of the black magic classroom opened without any wind, and a cold wind blew in.

"Okay, let's go, let's go." Tiera said with a gentle smile, "It just started snowing outside while we were still in the pensieve. If you don't want to start working on the paper yet, you can go and have fun first. Snow, let’s have a snowball fight, let’s go, students, the class is over.”

The little wizards looked at each other, and then walked out of the dark magic classroom one after another.

Wait until everyone walks out of the classroom, until Tiera is the only one left in the classroom.

Tiera waved her hand and closed the door of the black magic classroom, then slowly walked to the pensieve, stretched out her right hand fingers and stirred in the pensieve, and fished out a bright silver thread from it.

Tiera picked up the thread, raised her head and opened her mouth.

"Gulu——"

Tiera swallowed that memory into her belly.