Harry Potter’s Defense Professor

"You mean he likes to bully people?" Dumbledore asked.

"I think so," said Mrs. Cole, frowning slightly, "but it's hard to catch him on the spot. There have been some accidents... some bad things..."

Dumbledore didn't rush her, but Lockhart could see he was interested. Mrs Cole took another gulp of gin and the blush deepened on her cheeks.

"Billy Stubbs' rabbit...yes, Tom said he didn't do it, and I don't think he could have done it, but that being said, the rabbit wouldn't hang himself from the beam, would it? "

"Yeah, I don't think so either," Dumbledore said softly.

"But I can't figure out how he got up there to do it. All I know is that he had a fight with Billy the day before. And then—" Mrs Cole took another swig Gin, this time spilling some on the chin, "Summer outings -- you know, once a year. We take them out to the countryside or the sea -- and since then, Amy Benson and Dennis Bishop It just wasn't quite right, we asked and they just said they were in a cave with Tom Riddle. Tom swears they were exploring, but something must have happened in there. I'm sure. Besides There are many, many things, strange and strange..."

"That's the cave I took Gilderoy to, and now we're almost certain that there's a Horcrux hidden there."

"Don't take it out yet?" Lupin asked strangely.

"I'm going to let Harry read all the memories and let him get them. This is his destiny." Dumbledore glanced at Black. "It's time for him to know this."

Blake nodded and said nothing.

Mrs. Cole looked at Dumbledore again. Although her cheeks were flushed, her eyes were calm.

"I think many people will applaud him when they see him leave here."

"I'm sure you understand that we won't keep him at school all the time," Dumbledore said. "At least he'll be back here every summer vacation."

"Oh, no problem, that's better than being sniffed with a rusty poker," Mrs Cole said, burping lightly. She rose to her feet, and Lockhart was surprised to find that her legs were still on the ground, even though the bottle was two-thirds less gin. "I guess you'd really like to see him?"

"I really want to." Dumbledore said and stood up.

Mrs. Cole led him out of the office and up the stone stairs, shouting orders and accusations to her helpers and children as she walked. The orphans can be seen in uniform grey corsets. They all appear to be reasonably well cared for, but there is no doubt that growing up in this place is brooding and depressing.

"We're here," said Mrs. Cole, and they turned a corner on the third-floor landing and stopped at the door of the first room in a long corridor. She knocked on the door twice and walked in.

"Tom? Someone came to see you. This is Mr. Dumbleton—sorry, it's Mr. Dumbleton. He's here to tell you—well, let him tell you himself."

Several people entered the room with the two Dumbledores, and Mrs Cole closed the door behind them. It was an empty, unadorned hut, just an old wardrobe and an iron bed. A boy is sitting on a grey blanket with his long legs outstretched in front of him, reading a book in his hand.

There was no trace of the Gaunt family in Tom Riddle's face. Merope's last words came true: he was a miniature version of his handsome father. He was tall for an eleven-year-old, with dark hair and a pale complexion. He narrowed his eyes slightly, gazing at Dumbledore's strange appearance and attire. No one spoke for a while.

"Hello, Tom." Dumbledore said, stepping forward and extending his hand.

"She looks very handsome..." Tonks said, "Now she's turned into a ghost like this?"

"Black magic... Obviously he sacrificed a lot in pursuit of power, but it seems that he doesn't care what he looks like, as long as his power is strong."

The boy hesitated for a moment, then reached out and shook it. Young Dumbledore pulled a stiff wooden chair beside Riddle so that the two of them looked like a hospital patient and a visitor.

"I'm Professor Dumbledore."

"'Professor'?" Riddle repeated, looking very alert. "Is it like a 'doctor'? What are you doing here? Did she ask you to check on me?"

He pointed to the door where Mrs. Cole left just now.

"No, no," Dumbledore said with a smile.

"I don't believe you," said Riddle. "She wants someone to see me, doesn't she? Tell the truth!"

The last three words he said fiercely and loudly, with a terrifying aura. It was an order, and it seemed he had given it many times before. He suddenly opened his eyes wide and stared sternly at Dumbledore, who did not answer, but continued to smile amiably. After a few seconds, Riddle's eyes relaxed, but he seemed more alert.

"Who are you?"

"I've told you. I'm Professor Dumbledore, and I work at a school called Hogwarts. I've come to invite you to my school—your new school, if you will. ."

After hearing this, Riddle's reaction was greatly unexpected. He jumped up from the bed and backed away from Dumbledore, looking extremely annoyed.

"You can't lie to me! You're from an asylum, aren't you? 'Professor', huh, that's right - tell you, I'm not going, understand? That **** old hag is supposed to go to the asylum. I didn't think about Amy Benson Jr. and Dennis Bishop at all, you can ask them yourself and they'll tell you!"

"I'm not from a lunatic asylum," said Dumbledore patiently. "I'm a teacher, and I'll tell you about Hogwarts, if you can sit down. Of course, if you don't want to. No one will force you to go to that school—"

"I'd like to see who dares!" said Riddle contemptuously.

"Hogwarts," Dumbledore went on, as though he did not hear Riddle's last words, "is a school for people of exceptional talent—"

"I'm not crazy!"

"I know you're not crazy. Hogwarts is not a school for madmen, it's a school of magic."

Silence. Riddle was stunned, his face expressionless, but his eyes flicked quickly between Dumbledore's eyes, as if trying to see through one of them that he was lying.

"Magic?" he repeated softly.

"Yes," said Dumbledore.

"Those abilities of mine are... are they magic?"

"What skills do you have?"

"Various," Riddle said in a low voice, a flush of excitement spreading rapidly from his neck to his sunken cheeks. He looked excited. "I can make things move without touching them. I can make animals do what I tell them to do without training. I can bring bad luck to anyone who annoys me. I can injure them if I want to."

His legs were shaking. He stumbled forward, sat down on the bed again, lowered his head, and stared at his hands as if in prayer.

"I already knew I was different." He said to his trembling hands, "I already knew I was special. I already knew there was something here."

"Yes, your idea is not wrong." Dumbledore said, he restrained his smile and looked at Riddle intently, "You are a wizard."

"He is indeed no different from ordinary children," Lupin said, and Tonks had to nod to admit, "it's just that he has a bad temper."

Riddle looked up. His face changed at once: there was a frenzied joy. But somehow, instead of making him look better, his delicate features suddenly became rough, and he looked like a beast.

"You are also a wizard?"

"Yes~www.readwn.com~Prove it to me." Riddle said immediately, his tone was as domineering as the "Tell the truth" just now.

Dumbledore raised his eyebrows.

"If, as I understand it, you agree to study at Hogwarts—"

"Of course I agree!"

"Then you'll call me 'professor' or 'sir'."

Riddle's expression froze for a moment, and then he said suddenly in a tone of polite politeness: "I'm sorry, sir. I mean—Professor, can you show me—?"

"No, he's still a little different, he'll cover up." Blake corrected the others.

Dumbledore drew his wand from the inner pocket of his suit, pointed at the shabby wardrobe in the corner, and waved it casually.

The wardrobe immediately caught fire, and Riddle jumped up abruptly. All his belongings were probably in that wardrobe. However, just as Riddle was about to ask Dumbledore his guilt, the flames suddenly disappeared, leaving the wardrobe intact.

Riddle looked at the wardrobe, then at Dumbledore, then, pointing at the wand, his expression became greedy.

"Where can I get one?"

"There will be at that time," Dumbledore said. "There seems to be something in your closet that wants to get out."

Sure enough, there was a faint rattling sound from the closet. For the first time, Riddle looked panicked.

"Open the door," said Dumbledore.

Riddle hesitated, then walked over and slammed open the closet door. A few worn clothes hang on the clothes rail, and on the top shelf there is a small cardboard box that is shaking and clicking, and seems to contain a few crazy mice. .

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