Hogwarts Advanced Guide

Chapter 424 Handsome Tom Riddle
"Good evening, Harry," Hera said with a smile, looking up, "I hope what happened to Katie didn't affect you too much."

"Oh, it's terrible, actually," Harry said with some headache. "How's she doing? I didn't see her at the school hospital."

"It's been bad, luckily anyway. She probably just touched the necklace with a small piece of skin, and there's a small hole in her glove. If she'd left the necklace around her neck, or just picked it up with her ungloved hand, she'd have died, maybe instantly. Fortunately, Madam Pomfrey and Professor Snape, who stopped the spell from spreading—"

"Why him?" Harry asked immediately. "Why Snape?"

"Impolite." Phineas on the wall made a soft voice, and he just raised his head, "I think back then, I would not allow a student to raise objections to the management of Hogwarts."

"Yes, thank you, Phineas." Hera interrupted Phineas, "If I were you, I would definitely go back to the kitchen to see if Sirius drank all the whiskey the elves used for cooking again."

"Oh, you reminded me." Phineas said quickly, disappearing into the office through photo frames.

"He is?" Harry asked.

"Phineas, Phineas Nigellus Black, the great-grandfather of Sirius." Hera introduced, "I believe you must have seen Sirius, right?"

"Yes, but he doesn't seem to know me anymore." Harry was a little frustrated. He always put Sirius in a very important position, but Sirius seemed to be very afraid of meeting him.

"You have to give him some time, you won't forget what happened to him, right? He needs some time." Hera said, he patted the edge of the Pensieve lightly with the palm of his hand, "I think we have a lot of time to discuss these things, we'd better get busy with our business first, are you right?"

"Of course," said Harry hesitantly, "but the Katie thing, and Draco Malfoy—"

"I know you don't like him, and he's not a likable kid." Hera stared at Harry firmly, "But everything must be based on evidence. Don't worry, the professors will conduct in-depth and meticulous investigations on anyone who is suspected in Katie's accident."

Hera's words seemed to irritate Harry. He thought that Hera should believe him, or stand on his side, instead of saying some high-sounding words to fool him.

"Well, Harry, my concern now is what we're about to see," said Hera, turning the Pensieve gently.

"Regarding the early days of the Dark Lord, I think you must remember that last time we talked about the handsome Muggle who abandoned his witch wife Merope and returned to his old home in Little Hangleton. Merope was alone in London with the child who would become the Dark Lord in the belly."

"How do you know she's in London?"

"Obviously Dumbledore's memory told us that he investigated the evidence provided by Calactacus Burke." Hera tilted her head, "It's really a coincidence that the store he founded is the one we sell the necklace we are talking about."

"Bockin's?"

"That's right," Hera nodded with a smile, and he continued to shake the contents of the Pensieve like a gold digger sifting through gold.A figure of a little old man emerged from those constantly rotating silver-white objects.

Hera and Harry are no strangers. Hera has dealt with Bojinbok a lot after graduation. Bokin always has channels to sell some black magic items, and Hera happens to be able to get them easily. The 'friendly' contact established between them.

On the other hand, Harry accidentally broke into the Bokin Boker shop twice, and he was deeply impressed by the old man with a grinning grin.

Mr. Borgin spun slowly in the Pensieve, pale as a ghost, but more textured than a ghost, and his hair was so thick that it completely covered his eyes, and he was completely different from his current baldness.

"Yes, we got it on a very special occasion. It was brought by a young witch before Christmas, many years ago. She said she was in need of money, yes, it was obvious. She was shabby and haggard. She was pregnant. She said the locket used to belong to Slytherin. Well, we hear such nonsense all day. But when I looked carefully, there was a Slytherin mark on the locket. The spell clarified the truth. Of course, taking something is priceless. The woman didn't seem to know how old it was, and she was satisfied with just selling it for a Galleon. It was the best deal we ever did!"

Hera shook the Pensieve very vigorously, and Mr. Borgin's figure sank into the spinning memory.

"The only Galleon he gave her?" said Harry indignantly, remembering the poor girl Merope.So poor that he had even forgotten that she was the one who gave birth to Voldemort.

"Bogginbok is not a generous man," Hera said, "so we can learn that after Merope left Little Hangleton, she was alone in London, desperate for money, and had to sell the only thing of value in her possession—the locket, which was also a family heirloom so dear to Marvolo. But we've got the locket."

"Got it? Where is it now?" Harry asked impatiently. "And Merope? How's she? Why would she sell the locket, she could have magically gotten the food and all herself, couldn't she?"

"Harry, you have too many questions, I can only answer you one by one." Hera put down the Pensieve and said with some headaches, Harry's questions hit him like raindrops.

Harry nodded.

"First of all, the locket is indeed in our hands. It fell into our hands earlier this year. It is now hanging around Kreacher's neck. Forgive me for not being able to tell you why yet," Hera said, "But I will tell you when the time is right."

"Will it?" Harry asked in surprise, he thought Hera wouldn't give him an answer.

"Yes, I think so." Hera continued, "Then your second question, why doesn't Merope use magic to conjure what she needs? I think she can. But I think—this is just a guess, but I believe my speculation is reasonable—I think Merope probably doesn't want to use magic anymore, and she doesn't even want to be a witch anymore. Because of her status as a witch, Riddle loathes her and fears her. Weakened her powers so much that it could have happened. Anyway, as you'll see in a moment, Merope wouldn't even raise his wand to save his own life."

"Would she even want to live for her son?"

Hera raised her eyebrows, "I think she must have this idea, but she can't do it anymore." Hera paused, her tone became severe, "Harry, you'd better not feel sympathy for your enemies, it will harm you and the people around you."

"No, I haven't," said Harry hastily, "but Merope has a choice, doesn't he?"

"I think she chose death. We can't be too demanding on her. Long-term pain and suffering have made her very fragile." Hera sighed, death is really an easy word, enough to escape everything.In contrast, living requires more courage.

Hera stood up and walked back to her side, "Come on, let's look at Dumbledore's memory, this is the first time he saw it."

Harry didn't listen to Hera, because Hera had held his head, and pressed him into the cold memory of the Pensieve.

"That's Dumbledore, young Dumbledore." Hera said, pointing to a tall, thin figure ahead, who was crossing the road in front of a horse-drawn milk cart.

The young Albus Dumbledore, with his long hair and long auburn beard, had begun to beard at a young age - although he was probably approaching sixty by this time, clearly in the prime of life for a long-lived wizard.

Hera followed Dumbledore, striding down the sidewalk.Harry followed Hera closely so as not to get lost in the road.

At last they went through a gate and into a bare yard.

Behind the courtyard is a boxy, gloomy and old-fashioned building surrounded by high railings.Dumbledore went up the few steps leading to the front door and knocked
Until Dumbledore entered the room on the third floor, Harry couldn't see anything weird about it. It seemed like a normal visit, and the kid happened to be a wizard, a wizard hidden in the Muggle world, a little wizard who didn't know his identity at all.

Maybe Dumbledore was his guide and took him to Hogwarts - Harry thought so, and he looked at Hera suspiciously, but Hera didn't speak, he just followed Dumbledore closely and entered the room on the third floor together.

It was an empty, undecorated hut, save for an old wardrobe, a wooden chair, and an iron bed.A boy is sitting on a gray blanket with his long legs stretched out in front of him, reading a book in his hand.

"He's Riddle!?" Harry yelled in surprise. This guy looked like a miniature version of Mr. Riddle, without the shadow of the Gaunt family at all.

"That's right, keep reading and pay more attention to the details." Hera whispered, sitting on the bed, very close to Voldemort, and looked at him carefully.

"Hello, Tom." Dumbledore said, stepped forward and held out his hand.

The boy hesitated, then held out his hand and shook it.Dumbledore pulled a hard wooden chair beside Riddle so that they both looked like a hospital patient and a visitor.

Hera had read this memory many times, so all his thoughts were focused on the room, trying to find any details that he had overlooked.Harry, on the other hand, was so nervous that he held his breath. In the small room, Hera could clearly hear his accelerating heartbeat.

"Seven is really a magical number. I have believed in the magic of 'seven' since I was so young." Hera looked at the seven stones on the windowsill, like Voldemort's spoils. He was obsessed with the number 'seven' early on.

The memory is not too long, and it ends with Dumbledore handing Tom the letter and the train ticket.Just when Dumbledore got up and was about to leave and close the door, Tom suddenly said, "I can talk to snakes. I found out when we were hiking in the countryside - they found me and whispered to me. Is this normal for a wizard?"

Both Harry and Hera could see that he had deliberately delayed mentioning this most singular of feats until the last moment, in order to silence Dumbledore.

"Rare," said Dumbledore after a moment's hesitation, "but not unheard of."

His tone was casual, but his eyes were curiously examining Riddle's face.

"Was Dumbledore suspicious of him at that point?" Harry asked.

Hera shook her head lightly, "I don't know what Dumbledore thinks, but as far as I know, according to the Dark Lord, when he was at Hogwarts, only Dumbledore didn't like him. The Dark Lord wanted to stay in the school to teach after graduation. But Dumbledore, who was the dean of Gryffindor and professor of transfiguration at the time, suggested to the old headmaster, Professor Dippet, not to offer the Dark Lord a position. I think he still can't trust Tom."

"Oh, I think he's right," said Harry, nodding. "Obviously, Dumbledore foresaw what he would become."

"Maybe." Hera sighed. "Well, Harry, I think you should go back to sleep."

"But Sirius—" Harry said in astonishment, "you promised me to talk about him."

"Well, what do you want to know?" Hera shrugged, "but I think we'd better leave the Pensieve and get back to solid ground."

"Of course," said Harry.

A few seconds later, they flew lightly through the darkness again, and landed steadily in the real office.

"Sit down," said Hera, falling beside Harry.

Harry sat down, still thinking about what had just happened, but obviously he was also concerned about Sirius.

"Why is Sirius back in the castle? Why has he been avoiding me?" Harry asked. "He seems to be in a bad mood."

"Believe me, he is much better than before. I found out that Mundungus was helping him sell the things in Black's old house so that Sirius can continue to have money to buy wine." Hera raised his eyebrows. "He needs some time to get familiar with the environment, which is completely unfamiliar to him."

"Is there anything I can do to help him?" Harry said distressedly, "I want to help him, he's my godfather, but he's like the scariest person I've ever seen."

(End of this chapter)