Vol 2 Chapter 1088:

"Yes, I think it is Gunter's ancestral home, but before that, we still have a memory about Merlot, or about Voldemort before entering Hogwarts."
"Voldemort before he entered Hogwarts? I remember, he grew up in an orphanage."
"Oh, yes, handsome Muggle Tom Riddle abandoned her wizard wife, Merlot, and returned to the hometown of Little Hangleton. Merlot stayed in London alone, with the child who would become Voldemort in the future. "
"How do you know she is in London, Professor?"
"According to the evidence provided by Karata Cusburk," Dumbledore said, "he happened to help us find the store with that necklace, the one in your hand."
Dumbledore pointed to the necklace in Van Linh's hand and said, just like at Hogwarts, his hand unconsciously stirred the contents of the basin, like a gold digger sifting out gold.
A little old man slowly spinning emerged from the silver whirlpool in the meditation basin. He looked like a ghost in silver white, but he was more real than a ghost. His bushy head completely covered his eyes.
"Yeah, we got it in a strange situation. It was brought by a young witch, which happened to be Christmas, oh, of course it was many years ago. She said she desperately needed gold Well, it’s obvious. Wearing torn clothes, coming from far away... and having a baby. She said that the box pendant was Slytherin. Well, we always hear people say that,'Oh , This is Merlin's thing, this is his favorite teapot,'But after we checked it, it turned out that there was a Slytherin mark on it. You can know the truth with a few simple spells. Of course. , That is almost priceless. She doesn't seem to know how much this thing is worth. She happily exchanged ten gallons. This is the most cost-effective deal we have ever done."
Dumbledore shook the meditation basin very hard, and Karatakusbock sank into the vortex of memory.
"He only gave her ten Gallons?" Fanlin said helplessly, which was obviously very unfair to Merlot.
"Karatakusburke is not generous," Dunlidow said. "So we know that in the last days of her pregnancy, Melo stayed alone in London. She needed gold so much that she sold her only valuable possession, the Slytherin pendant. Box, Marvolo’s collection of heirlooms."
"But she knows magic!" Fanlin hesitated. He saw that Merlot was not a dumb gun, but was scared by Marvolo and didn't dare to use magic. "She can use magic to find food and everything she wants, can't she?"
"Ah," said Dumbledore, "maybe she can. But I believe—this is another guess, but I am sure I am right—after she was abandoned by her husband, she stopped using magic. I think she I don’t want to be a witch anymore. Of course, the unrequited love and the ensuing despair squeezed her power out; this might happen. Anyway, she didn’t want to raise her wand again until she was dying ."
"A very sad thing, Professor," Fanlin shook his head, "If Merlot didn't choose to give up Tom, I think..."
"Everything is unexpected, isn't it?" Dumbledore said, holding his wand against his temple and drawing a strand of silver from it.
"Where are we going next?"
"This time," said Dumbledore, "we are going to enter my memory. I think you will show the rich details and be satisfied with its accuracy. I will follow you, Fanlin..."
Fanlin bent down toward the basin; his face was immersed in the cold memory, and fell into the darkness again... A few seconds later, his feet touched the solid ground, so he opened his eyes and found him He and Dumbledore were standing on a bustling old London street. Not long after, Rutherford also came in, and Fanlin had almost forgotten him...
"I'm there," Dumbledore said happily, pointing to a tall figure in front of him, who was crossing the road in front of a horse-drawn milk cart.
The young Albus Dumbledore had auburn hair and beard. After crossing the road to their side, he began to walk along the sidewalk in stride, wearing a very gorgeously cut dark purple velvet suit, attracting many curious eyes.
"The clothes are very good, Professor," Fanlin couldn't help but said, and Dumbledore just giggled. The three of them followed the young Dumbledore not far, and finally walked through a set of iron gates into one. The empty courtyard, in front of which is a dark, square building, surrounded by high railings. He walked up several steps and knocked on the door. After a while, one wore an apron and wore torn apart
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The rotten girl opened the door.
"Good afternoon. I have a date with Mrs. Cole. I think she is the stewardess here."
"Oh," the girl looked suspiciously at Dumbledore's weird look. "Um... wait a minute... Mrs. Cole!"
She turned back and yelled.
Fanlin heard a loud response from a distant place. The girl turned to face Dumbledore again.
"Come in, she will come here."
Dumbledore walked into the hallway paved with black and white tiles; the whole looked dilapidated, but spotlessly clean. Fanlin and old Dumbledore followed. Before the door behind them was closed, a thin, exhausted woman hurried towards them.
Her face was sharp and angular, and she looked more anxious than indifferent, and she walked towards Dumbledore while talking to another assistant in an apron next to her.
"...Then take this bottle of iodine to Martha upstairs, Billy Stubbs is picking up his own scabs, and Eric Willie is sweaty on the sheets-but chickenpox is a priority," She said to herself that she was stunned after seeing Dumbledore, her expression of surprise was like seeing a giraffe coming in.
"Good afternoon," Dumbledore extended his hand. Mrs. Cole was still stunned. "My name is Albus Dumbledore. I wrote you an appointment letter, and you kindly invited me to come here today."
Mrs. Cole blinked. Obviously making sure that Dumbledore is not an illusion, and then she said, "Oh, yes. Um-well, then-come to my office. Yes."
She let Dumbledore into a small room, which was half like a living room and half like an office. It is as dilapidated as the hallway, and the furniture is old and unmatched. She asked Dumbledore to sit on a rickety chair, while she sat behind a cluttered desk and stared at him nervously.
"I am here, as I said in the letter, to discuss with you Tom Riddle's future arrangements," said Dumbledore.
"Are you a family member?" Mrs. Cole asked.
"No, I'm a teacher," Dumbledore said. "I'll come and pick Tom up to our school."
"So, what school is this?"
Wizard School... Fanlin couldn't help but mutter in his heart, although it looks a bit pitted now...
"It's Hogwarts," Dumbledore said.
"Why are you interested in Tom?"
"We believe he has the qualities we seek."
"You mean he won a scholarship? How could he be? He never signed up for any exam."
"Well, he was on the school list when he was born—"
"Who registered for him? His parents?" There is no doubt that this is a shrewd woman who is not easy to deal with.
Apparently Dumbledore thought so too, and Fanlin saw that he quietly drew his wand out of the velvet suit, and at the same time picked up a completely blank piece of paper on the table.
"Look at this," Dumbledore waved his magic wand as he handed the paper to her. "I think this will make it clear."
Mrs. Cole's eyes were suddenly lost, and then she regained her look. She stared at the blank sheet of paper for a while.
"It seems to be in full compliance with the procedure," she said calmly, and handed the paper back. Then her gaze fell on a bottle of gin and two glasses, there must be nothing there just a few seconds ago.
"Uh-a glass of gin?" she said very politely.
"Thank you very much," Dumbledore said with a smile. Obviously, Mrs. Cole was a veteran who drank gin. She filled the two of them with wine, and drank her glass in one go. She smiled at Dumbledore for the first time, smacked her lips unabashedly, and Dumbledore seized the opportunity.
"I wonder if you can tell me something about Tom Riddle's past? I think he was born in this orphanage, right?"
"Yes," Mrs. Cole poured more gin. "I remember very clearly because I just came here. It was New Year's Eve. It was freezing and snowing, you know. Bad night. Then the girl, who was a little older than me at the time, stumbled Walked up the steps of the gate. Well, she was not the first one. We brought her in, and she gave birth to the baby an hour later. She died in another hour."
Mrs. Cole nodded with emotion and swallowed another gulp of gin.
"Did she say anything before she died?" Dumbledore asked. "For example, about the child's father?"
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"It's a coincidence, she said this." With a glass of gin in her hand and an enthusiastic audience in front of her, Mrs. Cole seemed to enjoy it now.
"I remember she said to me,'I want him to look like his dad.' To be honest, she was right to think so, because she didn't look good at all-and then she told me to name him Tom. In memory of his father, the middle name is Marvolo, in memory of her own father—yes, I know, the strange name, right? We are still wondering if she is from the circus—and then she says boy’s The last name is Riddle. He died after saying this."
"Well, we just named the child according to what she said. The poor girl seemed to take it very seriously, but no Tom or Marvolo, and no one with the surname Riddle came to look for this child. There are no relatives, so we left him and stayed in the orphanage until now." Mrs. Cole poured another glass of wine, almost in a trance.
There were two blushes on her cheekbones. Then she said, "He is a strange boy."
"Yes," Dumbledore said. "I think it might be."
"He was weird when he was a baby. He almost never cried. Then, as he grew up a little bit, he became...weird."
"Weird, what a weird way?" Dumbledore asked gently.
"Well, he—" Mrs. Cole stopped suddenly, and she glanced at Dumbledore questioningly from the top of the glass, her eyes no longer so hollow.
"He will definitely go to your school to study, you said?"
"Sure," Dumbledore said.
"What I said will not change this, will it?"
"No," Dumbledore said.
"You will take him away anyway?"
"Anyway," Dumbledore repeated solemnly. She squinted at him, as if thinking about whether to trust Dumbledore. Apparently in the end she decided to believe him because she suddenly said, "He scared the other kids."
"You mean he is a bully?"
"I think so," Mrs. Cole frowned slightly, "but it's difficult to catch him. Things always go wrong... tricky things..."
Dumbledore did not urge her, but Fanlin could see that he was very interested. Is this the professor's evil taste?
She took another sip of gin, and her rosy cheek turned redder. "Billy Stubbs’ rabbit...well, Tom said he didn’t do it, and I don’t know how he could do it, but nevertheless, it’s impossible for the rabbit to hang himself on the rafters, right?"
"I think so too, impossible," Dumbledore said calmly. "But, I really don't know how he climbed up to do it. All I know is that he and Billy just quarreled the previous day. Then—"
Mrs. Cole took another swig, this time overflowing a little bit to her chin, "In the summer we go hiking-you know ~ EbookFREE.me ~ we take them out once a year to the countryside or the sea-um , Amy Benson and Dennis Bissau became abnormal afterwards, we cross-examined, they both only said that they went to a cave with Tom Riddle. Tom vowed to us that they were just going to explore, but there Something must have been born, I'm sure. And, well, a lot of things, weird things..."
She looked at Dumbledore again, although her cheeks were bright red, but her eyes were firm.
"I don't think too many people will feel sorry for his departure."
"You can understand, we won't let him stay there forever." Dumbledore said. "He will still come back here, at least, every summer vacation."
"Oh, well, it's better than hitting someone else's nose with a rusty poker here," Mrs. Cole burped gently. She stood up, and Fanlin noticed that even though she had drunk two-thirds of the gin in the bottle, she was still safe.
"I guess you want to see him?"
"Want very much," Dumbledore also stood up. She led her out of the office and walked up the stone stairs, giving instructions to the passing assistants along the road, and yelling at the children.
Fanlin saw that the orphans were all wearing uniform gray blouses. I can see that they are all taken good care of, but it is undeniable that this place for them to grow up is too harsh and ruthless.
"This is it," Mrs. Cole said, and they turned around the second landing and walked to the door of the first room in a long corridor. She knocked on the door twice, then walked in.
"Tom? Someone came to see you. This is Mr. Dumbledore-I'm sorry, it's Dundalbo. He is here to tell you-forget it, let him talk."
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