Chapter 620: The Birth of the Dark Lord
Rove fell downward, as if being sucked into a black vortex, and when he landed, he appeared in a small square courtyard.
The sky is full of snow, covering the ground, bending the branches of the dwarf trees, and covering the world with a white coat.
In the house not far away, a woman's shrill and shrill wail sounded, which made the spine tingle, and was incompatible with the scene in front of her.
Rove walked through the ankle-deep snow, walked to Dumbledore, and asked, "Professor, where is this?"
The old man stood in the middle of the yard, with his hands behind his back, looked up at the heavy snow, and said softly:
"A Muggle orphanage, where Tom Riddle grew up and lived there until he was eleven."
Rove looked around in surprise, is this Wu's Orphanage?
"Rofe, I think you already know - Tom's diary - is a Horcrux he made when he was sixteen," said Dumbledore.
The teenager nodded.
"The function of the Horcrux is to help the owner avoid death, and the creators will try their best to hide it."
Dumbledore stretched out his wrinkled fingers, and the soft snowflakes passed through his palm and slowly fell to the ground. He said calmly:
"But Tom gave the diary to Malfoy, hoping that the soul in the diary could be attached to someone else so that he could open the secret room and release the basilisk."
Dumbledore paused, collecting his thoughts, and then said: "In doing so there was undoubtedly the risk of the Horcrux being destroyed - which actually happened: the piece of soul no longer existed.
Tom's protection of the diary is very careless..."
"Unless he has already made more Horcruxes." Rove continued the old man's words, "So losing one will not be so dangerous."
"That's right." Dumbledore was very happy that the boy could keep up with his train of thought, he sighed softly:
"There is also evidence that Voldemort seems to have become less and less human over the years, both in character and appearance.
I can only explain this change as the damage to his soul is far beyond the scope of ordinary black magic. "
Dumbledore looked towards the screaming house, his gaze above his half-moon spectacles very serious.
"So, I'm collecting Tom's life, trying to find clues to other Horcruxes.
If you want to defeat a person, you must thoroughly understand a person. "
Rove nodded lightly, followed the old man's gaze, looked towards the low house, and asked, "Who is the screaming woman in the house?"
"Merope Gaunt—Voldemort's mother." Dumbledore explained, "She came to this orphanage alone on the last day of 1926, with the child in her stomach."
Hearing "1926", Rove raised his eyebrows. He was too familiar with this year. It was in this year that the young Newt took the Thunderbird to the United States, met Tina, and caught Grindelwald by the way. .
Rove used to hear Tina nagging about these past events a lot.
Who would have thought that when the first generation of the Dark Lord was making troubles in the United States, a second generation of the Dark Lord was born in a Muggle orphanage far away in London.
"This memory comes from Mrs. Cole, she is the director of this orphanage." Dumbledore looked towards the kitchen not far away.
A young woman cooks in the kitchen, stirring the fire with a poker, with firewood neatly piled beside her.
"Eleven years later, I came here to persuade her to let Tom Riddle go to Hogwarts." Dumbledore said calmly.
"Thirty years later, Tom has transformed into the famous Voldemort.
I found the elderly Mrs. Cole again and asked her for this long memory of Merope Gunter, which has been preserved to this day. "
When Luo Fu heard this, he sighed inexplicably. The old man's tone was flat, but it was seventy years of changes in the world and the passage of time.
At this moment, a sharp cry came from the room.
Apparently, Tom was born.
Mrs. Cole hastily picked up a bowl of porridge and hurried across the courtyard toward the room, the snow crunching under her feet.
Dumbledore and Rove followed her and entered a very dim room. There was no fireplace in the room, only an iron brazier beside the bed, and the coals were blazing.
A woman was lying on the bed dying, probably only twenty years old, her black hair was messily pasted on her haggard face, and she was covered with a thick quilt.
The elderly mother-in-law who delivered the baby held the baby wrapped in a thick cloak and coaxed it non-stop, but the baby continued to cry.
"Give me...give me the baby..." Merope Gaunt sat up weakly. She took the baby, untied her clothes, and began to feed the baby.
"He looks so much like his father," said Merope Gaunt, as the child sucked. "He's got Tom's nose, and Tom's hair..."
Rove was very skeptical, how could such a wrinkled, ugly, and tiny baby look like anyone else.
"The boy...is called Tom after his father, and his middle name is Marvolo after my father."
Merope lovingly touched the baby's soft, dark hair, which slipped through her fingers like black silk, and murmured:
"Tom Marvolo Riddle."
After the breastfeeding, Merope sang a lullaby to soothe the baby.
Dumbledore asked, "Do you understand?"
Rove nodded and said, "She speaks Parseltongue."
But after singing it once, the woman wept bitterly, and when the baby fell asleep, she seemed to be drained of strength and lay back on the bed weakly.
"Ma'am... If Tom grows up one day, if he asks about me, if you are happy... please tell him, tell him... I love him."
"I will." Mrs. Cole sat on the edge of the bed, "Let's have something to eat first."
Cole fed merope porridge, but she couldn't swallow it, as fast as the spoon filled it, as fast as it leaked from her lips, and the porridge dripped down her chin.
Mrs. Cole wiped the corners of Merope's mouth with her sleeve, while the woman looked at the sleeping Tom with absent-minded eyes. Her lips were moving, but she couldn't hear what she was saying.
Mrs. Cole wiped her tears and said with a sob: "I assure you, Tom will never worry about food and clothing in the orphanage."
Hearing this, Merope laughed, hard but sweet.
she died.
"Merope Gaunt passed away not long after giving birth to Tom Riddle, and she didn't make it to New Year's Day the next day." Dumbledore sighed:
"Her son did grow up healthily according to her expectations, but he took a detour in the end."
Rove was silent for a moment, suddenly remembered something, and asked:
"Professor, where was Merope Gaunt buried after she died?"
...
...
(Thanks to the two big guys "Fish Lying in Taoyuan" and "Shangjiang Jiangnan Kong Zixu" for their rewards.)