Hogwarts Advanced Guide

Chapter 431 New Memories - Young Voldemort
The students were obviously very excited and crowded in front of the sign to sign, and they couldn't wait to learn about apparation, what a cool thing to do!
Even though they couldn't Apparate in the castle, they were still raving about the class they were going to be teaching, and were eager to be able to disappear and manifest at will.

Throughout the day, Harry was surrounded by sixth year students who wanted her to talk about Apparition.After all, he was probably one of the few students who had apparition experience. Whether it was Dumbledore or Hera, he had apparated him more than once.So when Harry said that Apparating was uncomfortable, the students who huddled around him showed awe rather than disinterest.At ten to eight in the evening, they were still asking him to answer detailed questions, Harry had to lie about going to the library to return books, and then he walked out to the principal's office on the eighth floor.

Hera had been waiting for Harry in the office early, the lights were on, and the portraits of the previous headmasters were snoring softly in the photo frames, so they were naturally pretending to be asleep.The Pensieve was placed on the table again, and Hera held the edge of the basin with both hands, looking down at the silver liquid in the Pensieve.Harry didn't know what he was looking at, but he didn't ask.Before Harry could speak, Hera spoke first.

"I heard Molly say that at Christmas, you met Minister for Magic Scrimgeour?"

"Yes, he is not very pleased with me."

"Yeah," Hera sighed, "he's not too happy with me either. Let's try not to be depressed by the pain, Harry, keep fighting."

Harry smiled.

"He asked me to tell the wizarding world that the Ministry is doing a great job."

Hera also laughed. This is not difficult to understand. After all, Scrimgeour has only been in office for half a year. Compared with fighting Voldemort and his Death Eaters, the more important problem he has to face is to secure his position. Otherwise, how can he unite the wizarding world?

But it is obvious that Harry is an upright person, he only cares about whether it conforms to the justice he knows, and it is difficult to understand the circles in it.Hera thought that this was probably because Dumbledore wanted Harry to be such a person, and only such a righteous person could take on the responsibility of fighting Voldemort.

Hera raised her eyebrows and said with a smile: "It's not just Scrimgeour, when Fudge was still in office. In the last days of his tenure, he desperately wanted to keep his position. He once wanted to see you, and hoped that you would support him—"

"After what Fudge did last year?" Harry asked angrily. "After Umbridge? If it wasn't for him, Dumbledore wouldn't have been forced to leave Hogwarts, and we could have told him everything without risking so much—Dumbledore wouldn't have died—"

"Calm down, Harry," Hera waved her hand, "The matter is over, I don't think it's useless to be angry again, Dumbledore certainly doesn't want you to lose your mind when you mention his matter."

"I know." Harry said angrily.

"Fudge came to me during the summer, and I told him it was impossible. But the idea didn't die when he left. We met a few hours after Scrimgeour was appointed, and he asked me to arrange an interview with you—"

"You turned him down?" Harry blurted out, before realizing he'd asked a stupid question. "Of course, otherwise I'd see Fudge on vacation."

"That's right, I turned him down," Hera said with a sigh. "It even got into the Daily Prophet. I don't know if you can see it at your uncle's aunt's house, but it's not a big deal. In fact, I didn't take it to heart at all. But what I'm concerned about is that Scrimgeour seems to have found you. He probably saw you at the Burrow through the back-to-school application form."

"He accused me of 'being Dumbledore through and through, even when he's gone'."

"I really didn't expect him to say that." Hera frowned. At least Scrimgeour was easy to communicate with him.At least he wouldn't say such things to Hera.

"Scremgeour wants to know where you go when you're not at Hogwarts," said Harry. "He thinks you've been away from Hogwarts for a while, but he's completely ignorant of your tracks, and I think that disturbs him."

"He wants to take the Order of the Phoenix into his pocket, but it's impossible." Hera shrugged and said relaxedly. "He mentioned it as early as September, but I rejected it. If he could really see through the relationship between the Ministry of Magic and the Death Eaters, I don't think he would think so."

"You mean there are Death Eaters in the Ministry of Magic?" Harry asked suspiciously, then nodded again, "That's right, Big Malfoy was imprisoned in Azkaban some time ago because he was suspected of colluding with Death Eaters. I read about it in the newspaper."

"That's right," Hera tapped her finger on the edge of the Pensieve, "but I think we should keep going in, it's getting late, unless there's something else—?"

"Yes, Hera," said Harry, "it's about Snape—"

"I think we've said enough, Harry." Hera sighed. "I can't tell you more, but I must say that you don't have to take it to heart. I don't think it's very important."

"Not very important?" said Harry in disbelief. "Hera, you might have put a Death Eater in the castle, and they're plotting something—"

"That's enough, Harry," Hera interrupted Harry roughly. "My answer hasn't changed, but I won't explain it to you too much. It's not something you should know."

"I think so too." A sarcastic voice said, it was Phineas, and he still couldn't help opening his eyes.But Hera ignored him, God knows if Phineas will leak any news to Harry again.

"Now, Harry, we must get to the point. I have more important things to discuss with you tonight." Hera paused, seeing that Harry still looked angry, and said seriously, "This is what Dumbledore meant. He thought it was necessary for you to know this. If you want to defeat the Dark Lord, you must know him well enough, better than he himself, otherwise you will never see his weaknesses."

Harry sat there unconvinced, but when he heard Dumbledore's name, his body still shook unconsciously.

"We are going to look at two memories tonight. They are hard-won. I think Dumbledore must have spent a lot of energy collecting them." Hera spun the Pensieve with her hands like a gold digger, and the silver memory inside turned into a whirlpool.

"Dumbledore didn't leave many memories about Riddle at Hogwarts. I think few people are willing to talk about him. They must be very scared." Hera said slowly.

Harry raised his hand to signal that he had something to say, and Hera stopped talking and gave him a look to signal him to speak.

"Why don't they even dare talk about it? At that time, he should still be Tom Riddle, and he hasn't used-that terrible name, right?"

"That's right, but as long as you listen carefully to what Professor Binns said in History of Magic class, you will know that there were so many vicious incidents at Hogwarts during the seven years that the Dark Lord was at school. I have reason to suspect that he won over a group of devoted friends during his school days. I say this for lack of a better word, but obviously we have already said it before. Riddle has no intention of having no feelings for them. This group of people formed a dark force in the castle. Joe felt something was wrong."

"I think that's why Dumbledore rejected Riddle's application to teach. He must want to continue to win over his subordinates in the castle." Hera stopped talking, took a sip from the teacup on the table, and continued:

"Although we don't have many memories, we can still deduce a lot of useful things from what we know about him before. For example, Riddle's parentage. We have no way of knowing when he knew that Parseltongue was a Slytherin privilege. Maybe the Sorting Hat told him on the night of enrollment. This news must have excited him and increased his ego."

Hera's voice became low and deep, "But he must be very puzzled about his origin. He grew up in an orphanage, so naturally he wanted to know how he got there. He appointed to search the castle for traces of Old Tom Riddle, but he must have found nothing. Old Tom has never entered Hogwarts, he is just a Muggle. It is his mother who really gave him talent. Riddle's only clue is the name 'Marvolo'."

"That crazy old man?" Harry asked in a low voice, he still remembered what he saw last time in flashbacks, that poor, innocent, drunken father of the witch Merope, always looking neurotic.

"That's right, he just needs to ask the loyal friends around him, and he will definitely know." Hera patted the wall of the Pensieve, "So, in the summer when he was 16 years old, he left the orphanage where he went back every year to find his Gaunt relatives. That is the memory we are going to look at today. Now, Harry, please stand up."

From the Pensieve rose a willful, handsome young man with red lips and white teeth, wearing a well-tailored formal suit, carrying an oil lamp, and his legs were still standing in the basin.His voice seemed to echo, as if it came from the depths of the stone basin, "Where is Marvolo?"

"Very well, let's go in." Hera pushed Harry into the Pensieve, and the two experienced the familiar feeling of falling again, and then landed on a dirty stone floor, surrounded by almost darkness.

It took a few seconds for their eyes to adjust to the darkness.

This is an extremely dirty place, even if Hera is well-informed, it can definitely be called the dirtiest place.Even though it was a memory, Hera carefully avoided the wall so as not to stain her robes.

There are thick cobwebs on the ceiling, the ground is dark, and there are moldy food and a pile of rusty pots on the table.The only light came from a faltering candle at a man's feet.The man's hair and beard had grown so long that it covered his eyes and mouth, he looked more like a wild man than a wizard. Suddenly, there was a heavy knock on the door, which made the man startled and woke up. He raised his wand in his right hand and a short knife in his left.

The door opened with a creak, and there stood a boy in the doorway, which was the same figure that had just stood up in the Pensieve—young Voldemort.

Voldemort's eyes moved slowly through the dirty room, and found the man in the armchair.They stared at each other for a few seconds, and the man stood up staggeringly, and the many wine bottles at his feet were rattling and rolling.

you! he roared. "You!" "

He fell drunkenly on Riddle, wand and knife aloft.

"stop!"

Riddle spoke in Parseltongue.

The man couldn't stop and hit the table, and the moldy rusty pot fell to the ground.He glared at Riddle, and they looked at each other for a long time before the man broke the silence first.

"You can say that kind of thing?"

"Yes, I will." Riddle walked into the room, and the door closed behind him.Hera raised his eyebrows. Fortunately, both of them had mastered Parseltongue, so there was no need to worry about some people not being able to understand it.Riddle looked the man up and down several times, his face showing undisguised disgust, and perhaps disappointment.

"Where's Marvolo?" he asked.

"Dead," said the other, "been dead for years, hasn't it?"

Riddle frowned.

"then who are you?"

"I'm Morfin, ain't I?"

"Marvolo's son?"

"Of course, then..."

Morfin pushed the hair off his dirty face to get a better look at Riddle.The black gemstone ring of Marvolo on his right hand was shining with black light, Hera narrowed her eyes, gently rubbed the index finger of her right hand with her left hand, and quietly hid her hand in the robe.

Harry put his heart and soul on Morfin and the young Voldemort, and didn't notice Hera's small movements behind him.

"I thought you were that Muggle," whispered Morfin. "You look exactly like that Muggle."

"Which Muggle?" Riddle snapped.

"The Muggle my sister was infatuated with, the Muggle who lived in the big house across the way," said Morfin, spitting unexpectedly on the ground between them. "You look just like him. Riddle .But he's old now, isn't he? He's older than you, I remember..."

Morfin seemed a little dizzy. He swayed a bit, but still held on to the edge of the table.

"He's back, you know." He added stupidly.

Voldemort stared at Morfin, as if assessing his potential.Now he came closer and said, "Riddle is back?"

"Ah, he abandoned my sister, and my sister deserved it, married to trash!" Morfin spat on the ground again, "and robbed us, before she ran away! Where's the locket, huh, where is Slytherin's locket?"

Voldemort did not speak.Morfin became angry again, brandishing his dagger and shouting, "We're disgraced, she, that little slut! Who are you? Come here to ask these questions? It's over, isn't it... It's over..."

(End of this chapter)