days at Hogwarts

It was the late summer of 1937, and the weather was worse than any summer Tom Riddle had ever experienced at the Wood Orphanage.

The continuous rain caused Mrs. Cole to reduce the outdoor activities time for all her children. Trapped in cramped indoor spaces, they also had less joy.

Please don't get me wrong, Riddle doesn't like football, rugby or any other sports. In his opinion, most sports are boring, and there is nothing more disgusting than a group of idiots getting together and making stupid laughter.

He enjoyed the fear in the eyes of the weak when they spied on him. If he could turn pale with fear, tremble all over, and stammer and speak unclearly, it would be the most pleasing performance, more realistic and delicate than the movies that Mrs. Cole had shown.

There were many limitations in the indoor environment, with caregivers moving around and Mrs. Cole making occasional rounds. Riddle could only steal the little trinkets that others cherished and find some comfort in their cowardly cries through the wall.

When did this form of entertainment begin?

Maybe it would have been fun to hang Billy Stubb's ridiculous rabbit from the rafters, too bad he had meant to hang Billy Stubb himself...

Maybe it was when we went on an outing to the beach and took Dennis Bishop and Amy Benson into the cave and pushed their heads into the lake, their wails of pain and despair sounded like a symphony...

This all depends on his innate magical abilities.

Tom Riddle discovered long ago that he could move objects with his mind, make them float to any location, make animals obey his orders, and use his abilities to hurt other orphans...

"He had a lot of trouble with the other kids. Very troubled..."

Mrs. Cole walked in front, going up the stone stairs step by step, and finally stopped at the first room in the corridor on the third floor. She knocked twice and opened the door, "Tom, someone is here to see you."

The room was empty and without any decoration, except for an old wardrobe, a wooden chair and an iron bed, which all looked like items donated from other places.

Loren and the other two followed the perspective of the young Dumbledore and saw the boy, the eleven-year-old Tom Riddle.

Merope would probably be very happy to see his current appearance. He indeed inherited his father's handsomeness. He was slightly taller than his peers, with black hair and a fair face, but there was a strong gloom lingering about him.

Riddle narrowed his eyes and looked at the strangely dressed visitor, his voice a little hoarse.

"Are you a doctor?"

"No, I'm a professor."

"I don't believe you. She said I needed to see a doctor. They all said I was different."

“Maybe they’re right.”

"I'm not crazy."

"Hogwarts is not a lunatic asylum. Hogwarts is a magic school."

"..."

The eleven-year-old Riddle had a maturity far beyond his peers. He was calm and composed, and was wary of strangers until the young Dumbledore displayed his magic and flames suddenly appeared out of thin air and enveloped the old wardrobe.

Riddle, whose all his possessions were in the closet, finally lost his composure and roared in fear and anger. He hysterically wanted to hold this strange man accountable, but found that the fire suddenly disappeared, the closet was intact, but the small items he had stolen were discovered.

It must be admitted that Riddle was stunned by this move. He restrained all his sharpness and even became polite, asking questions about wands, magic, and everything about wizards.

When he was young, Dumbledore had already observed the pure black soul hidden under that skin. His tone was still gentle, but his attitude became tough: "Hogwarts does not allow stealing. In Hogwarts, you not only need to learn how to use magic, but also how to control it..."

"Yes, sir,"

Riddle was keenly aware of his rejection and rejected the suggestion of going to Diagon Alley with him. He found out the location, entrusted him with the matters concerning the start of school, and the conversation ended there.

When Dumbledore said goodbye, Riddle looked at his back and felt in a trance that the summer of 1937 was over, the endless rainy weather was over, and the first eleven years of his boring and dark life were over.

A brand new world opened up to him, a world full of wonder and excitement.

Riddle asked quietly, "Is it normal for a wizard to be able to talk to snakes?"

Along with the long echo, all the things in the memories suddenly blurred, as if ink dropped into water rolled around. Loren and the others saw the remaining images quickly zooming away, and they began to rise rapidly. When they came to their senses, they were already in the principal's office, with Fox's dark eyes staring at them.

Dumbledore was still sitting behind his desk, his eyelids slightly drooping, as if he was recalling some distant memories, or as if he was resting his eyes.

Loren calmed himself down and suppressed the trance caused by the sudden change of time and space.

Harry remained silent, the eleven-year-old Tom Riddle was too good, he was already able to control those instinctive magics freely, he remained calm in front of the school professors, and calmly proposed to go to Diagon Alley alone. He was not surprised at all that the man could get the school's Outstanding Contribution Award.

He came back to his senses and said, "Did Riddle deliberately delay the mention of Parseltongue until the last minute, hoping to intimidate you at the time?"

"I think so." Dumbledore opened his eyes and chuckled. "But Parseltongue is not as surprising as he thought. At least there is one of us now, right?"

"You didn't know Harry at that time, were you really not surprised?" Loren asked.

Dumbledore looked at him silently, and Loren spread his hands and shrugged, indicating that he was just simply curious.

"Of course I was surprised, but I didn't let him see that."

"Hehe..." Loren knew this was the case, "What happened next? How did he perform after entering the school?"

"He performed well, especially in the first few years. Even I couldn't find fault with him..." Dumbledore took a sip from his teacup and recalled, "After entering Hogwarts, Tom Riddle showed an extremely outstanding talent. He was curious about knowledge, polite to professors, and willing to help his classmates. He got along well with everyone in the school, except me..."

"During his years at the school, he had gathered a devoted group of... companions. For lack of a better word, not servants, for whom he carefully concealed his contempt, not friends, for whom Riddle undoubtedly had no feelings.

"They formed a force that has been entrenched in Hogwarts for many years. Even after he graduated and left the school, this force continued. They are a complex group. The weak seek shelter, the ambitious want to get some prestige, and the cruel by nature are attracted by the leader who can lead them to pursue a higher form of cruelty."

"They...are the predecessors of the Death Eaters..."