[HP] Riddle's Spirit Behind

The dark-haired boy didn't answer Eleanor's question.He finished his share of bacon with great speed, then grabbed the books on the table and stood up.

"Hey, wait!" Eleanor called after him.

The dark-haired boy walked towards the door without looking back.

—His name was Tom Riddle.

Eleanor couldn't be more familiar with this name.

Everyone in Little Hangleton, where she was born, knew the name.

The Riddle family is a well-known local gentry, and they live in a big mansion on the hillside of Little Hangleton.

The owner of that mansion was named Tom Riddle.It is said that he was so handsome in his youth that almost half the women in Little Hangleton fell in love with him.

Eleanor had met Tom Riddle several times.In her impression, he was an arrogant and rude black-haired man. Although he looked good, his personality was not flattering.

The Riddles were such unlikable characters that when people in Little Hangleton heard of their deaths, there was little grief for them.

Recalling this, the handsome face of Old Tom Riddle suddenly appeared in Eleanor's mind.

She suddenly realized that she hadn't noticed a very important thing.

She suddenly felt stiff.If she was still alive, she felt that the blood in her body must be frozen by now.

She had never noticed that the black-haired boy in front of her looked very, very similar to that person!

She floated to the side of the brunette, not even noticing that she almost bumped into a passing red-haired boy.

"Watch the way, ghost!" said the red-haired boy, frowning.

"Your name is Tom Riddle, isn't it?" Eleanor asked, floating beside the dark-haired boy.

"So what?" the dark-haired boy replied impatiently.

"Then you don't happen to know Tom Riddle of Little Hangleton?" Eleanor asked again.

The dark-haired boy frowned and glanced at her, "What are you talking about?"

"Because you look very similar to him." Eleanor said, staring at the immature and pale face seriously, "It's just a miniature version of him."

The black-haired boy paused under his feet, raised his head and frowned and asked, "What?"

Eleanor replied thoughtfully, "Hey, you're not his other bastard or something."

"You mean—" the dark-haired boy slowed down and said slowly, "there's a man named Tom Riddle who looks just like me?"

"Yes." Eleanor's eyes were still fixed on the black-haired boy.

The black-haired boy had a strange expression at this time. He stopped, raised his head and looked at Eleanor floating in mid-air, "That Tom Riddle you mentioned—where is he now?"

"He," Eleanor sighed slightly, "he's dead."

"Dead?" The black-haired boy slightly opened his eyes.

"Well," replied Eleanor, "he died shortly before I died."

The black-haired boy suddenly fell silent, and after a few seconds he said hoarsely: "...Do you think I might be that person's illegitimate child?"

"I don't know," said Eleanor.

She suddenly felt that a black-haired boy holding a strange wooden stick appeared in her somewhat chaotic memory. He looked very familiar, he was the young version of old Tom Riddle.

She thought again of the blinding green light.Right after that ray of light, she died.

And after she died, she met another boy who looked like Tom Riddle...

"Damn, what the hell is going on?" Eleanor murmured, unable to figure it out for a while.She vaguely felt that there seemed to be some important link missing.

And the "Tom Riddle" in front of him seemed to be very interested in the Riddle Eleanor was talking about.As he continued walking along the corridor, he turned his head and asked, "The man you mentioned with the same name as me—what kind of person is he?"

Eleanor was completely immersed in her own thoughts at this time, and had no time to take Tom's question into consideration, so she said casually: "He is the squire in our village, and he is not very pleasant."

Hearing Eleanor's answer, the black-haired boy lowered his head slightly and remained silent for a while, then raised his head and asked, "So, he's also a Muggle?"

"Muggle?" Eleanor glanced at him blankly, "Oh, probably, anyway, I don't think he's a wizard."

"……yes?"

Eleanor always thought the dark-haired boy looked very disappointed.His face was gloomy and he lowered his head slightly, not knowing what he was thinking about.

Suddenly she realized something, so she asked in a low voice: "You don't know who your father is, do you?"

The dark-haired boy just nodded slightly.

Eleanor suddenly felt a little sympathy, "Oh, sorry. I shouldn't have said that about him just now, although we're not sure if he's your father yet."

"He can't be my father," said Tom stiffly.

Eleanor looked at him a little surprised, "Why are you so sure?"

"Because he's a Muggle," said Tom, his face becoming darker. "My father can't be a Muggle."

Seeing that Eleanor didn't fully understand what he said, Tom sneered utterly like a child, "You probably don't know that they call Muggle-born wizards Mudbloods."

"Mudblood?" Eleanor repeated the word, always feeling that it was a very insulting word.

"Yes," said Tom, and suddenly let out a resentful look. "I can't be a Mudblood, so you must be mistaken. That man is definitely not my father."

After he finished speaking, he strode forward.

They ended up in a cold but spacious basement.

The other students looked at Eleanor with curious eyes.They never saw a ghost in class.

Eleanor looked around with even more curious eyes.She saw stuffed animals soaked in potions piled up against the walls.There were some dusty glass jars in the closet, and one contained what looked like eyeballs.

Ugh, that's disgusting.she thought to herself.

"Good morning," said a cheery voice.

Eleanor turned around abruptly, and saw a bloated man with thick straw-blond hair rushing in from the door.

When he saw Eleanor, the man showed a surprised expression, "I don't think I've seen you before, Miss Phantom."

Eleanor circled him half a circle, and said jokingly, "Well, I haven't seen you either."

The other party didn't seem to understand that Eleanor was joking.He frowned and said, "I'm sorry, we have class now. Can you go out for a while?"

"I'm sorry, I can't." Eleanor said, "I have to follow him." Her translucent finger pointed to the black-haired boy not far away - almost all the students couldn't help but turn their heads to stare at Tom See, it made Tom's expression even more somber.

"What do you mean you have to follow him?" The fat man looked at Eleanor in a daze.

Eleanor sighed, "It's literally. By the way, you are the teacher here, right? It would be great if you could explain to me why."

The other party coughed lightly, and his expression seemed to say that this ghost must have gone crazy.

"Time is running out, let's start the class first." He said, "Wait while we are dealing with your problem—" He looked up at the ghost who was gazing down at him with his arms folded in the air, "Uh, what should I do? call you?"

"My name is Eleanor," she said, "Elinor Alford."

"Very well, Miss Alford," he said, "will you step aside a little now, will you?"

Eleanor sighed and floated to the wall not far behind Tom.

She looked down at the students as they were instructed to start cutting a brown root-like material on the table and adding it to the steaming cauldron.

The fat man was pacing in the classroom while observing the operations of all the students and the situation in the cauldron.Now Eleanor knew his name was Slughorn, because the students called him "Professor Slughorn."

"Well, very well, Tom," said Slughorn approvingly, pausing again in front of Tom's cauldron.

Eleanor felt that Tom must be his favorite student, for this was the third time he had stopped in Tom's presence to compliment him.

The students next to him immediately cast some jealous eyes on Tom.

Although she couldn't understand what they were doing, Eleanor could tell from Slughorn's performance which operations were correct and which were wrong. What's more, there was an almost perfect operation under her nose. demonstration.

So when the boy on her right wanted to drop a fluorescent green liquid into the cauldron, she couldn't help but stop it aloud: "Wait a minute, I think you should stir it before adding that thing."

The boy quickly put down the bottle in his hand, and frantically stirred the liquid in the cauldron with his wand.

"Yes, that's right, stir clockwise three times, then counterclockwise twice," Eleanor instructed.

Slughorn noticed the situation here, and he frowned and said to Eleanor: "Miss Alford, I know you are kind, but I still hope you can keep silent in class. My students need to be independent study."

Slughorn didn't know that Eleanor was actually a Muggle, and would have been surprised if he had.

She didn't know anything about potions, and she memorized all the operations with her keen observation and memory, which was actually very difficult to do.

"Oh, I see." Eleanor muttered a little dissatisfied.She didn't see that the black-haired boy was turning his head to the side, and glanced at herself with a scrutiny.

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