Chapter 913 - 368: Little Riddle of Wu’s Orphanage (Part 2)

Chapter 913: Chapter 368: Little Riddle of Wu’s Orphanage (Part 2)

"I won’t make a noise, sister." Gellert immediately sat up straight, like a model student.

"I didn’t intend to argue with him." Dumbledore said, rubbing his temples.

"By the way," Gellert suddenly said, "recently, sister asked me to track Riddle’s whereabouts, and the Saints managed to trace one of his tracks—not the feminine, younger one, supposedly he’s now in T.P.L.A.C."

"What is T.P.L.A.C.?" Dumbledore asked, puzzled.

"Tin Pot Little African Country," Gellert said, spreading his hands, "See, we have never been on the same wavelength, have we? Dumbledore?"

"You still feel quite resentful, don’t you?" Vivi said, glaring at her annoying brother.

Gellert lowered his head and kept silent.

"Continue!" She tapped on the table.

"There were no more leads after that." Gellert shrugged, "It’s said he’s in a pyramid now, but... you know, sister, the Egyptian Ministry of Magic would never allow us to enter the pyramids."

"That’s not something we need to worry about." Vivi said with a light smile, "If Riddle were to come out from there, I think the first to regret it wouldn’t be us."

Yes, the first to suffer should be Egypt, right?

"I suggest you clear out the next Soul Artifact, Potter." Gellert said to Harry, "The matter of Riddle’s location is not something you need to worry about for now, your main task is to destroy Riddle’s soul fragments while keeping Albus’ treasures safe."

"I know, you don’t need to tell me that." Harry retorted.

"Kind reminders always seem to go unnoticed." Gellert shrugged indifferently.

Harry stepped forward, aiming at the next Soul Artifact.

It was Ravenclaw’s Crown.

This crown is actually quite beautiful, Harry thought, if it could be placed on Vivi’s head...

Not quite, Vivi already has a crown, and she’s more suited for the Princess Crown, or the Empress Crown, which fits her temperament.

Harry glanced at Vivi, who was reading documents, and then looked back at the crown.

This crown would actually suit Cassandra better—yes, she should indeed use the crown to gain some intelligence.

Thinking like this, Harry drew his Magic Wand and pointed it at the crown.

"Legiliments!"

Once again, there was that spinning sensation, but it wasn’t his own spinning sensation, it was as if the whole world was twisting into a vortex before him.

Soon, the vortex gradually ceased, and what appeared before Harry was a square building surrounded by tall railings.

The front of the building read "Wu’s Orphanage."

This was a name Harry was all too familiar with, he’d heard it more than once about where Voldemort was abandoned—or perhaps it should be said, where young Tom Riddle was left.

Hmm, classic case of his mother not loving him.

Harry tidied his somewhat disheveled clothes and slowly stepped into Wu’s Orphanage.

The rooms of the orphanage appeared very old but were extremely tidy and spotless, and Harry noticed that the orphans playing or resting inside were also well cared for.

Then, he saw a familiar figure.

It was the young version of Dumbledore, with a small round face and a beard.

"Dumbledore?" Harry muttered and followed along.

Beside Dumbledore stood a woman, and they were standing outside a room.

"Tom? Someone’s here to see you. This is Mr. Dumbledore—sorry, Mr. Dumbledore. He’s here to tell you—oh well, I’ll let him explain it to you himself."

After saying this, the woman gestured for Dumbledore to go inside.

Harry quickly took a couple of steps and walked into the room with Dumbledore, and Mrs. Cole closed the door behind them.

The room was empty and undecorated, with only an old wardrobe, a wooden chair, and an iron bed. A boy sat on a gray blanket, legs stretched out in front of him, holding a book.

There was no trace of the Gaunt family in Tom Riddle’s face. Melop’s last wish materialized: he was a spitting image of his handsome father. For an eleven-year-old, he was quite tall, with dark hair and a pale face. He narrowed his eyes slightly, scrutinizing Dumbledore’s odd appearance and clothing.

For a moment, no one spoke.

"Hello, Tom." Dumbledore approached and extended a hand.

The boy hesitated for a moment, then reached out and shook it.

Dumbledore pulled a hard wooden chair over to sit beside Riddle, making them look like a patient and a visitor.

"I’m Professor Dumbledore."

"’Professor?’" Riddle repeated, looking very wary. "Is that like ’Doctor’? What are you doing here? Did she ask you to come check on me?"

He pointed at the door Mrs. Cole had just left through.

"No, no." Dumbledore smiled.

"I don’t believe you," Riddle said, "Does she want you to see if I’m sick? Tell the truth!"

The last three words were said fiercely, his tone intimidating. It was an order, a command he clearly had issued many times before.

He suddenly opened his eyes wide, glaring at Dumbledore, who didn’t reply, just continued to smile kindly. After a few seconds, Riddle looked away, appearing even more cautious.

"Who are you?"

"I already told you. I’m Professor Dumbledore, I work at a school called Hogwarts. I’m here to invite you to my school—your new school, if you’re interested."

Riddle’s reaction to this was unexpectedly violent. He jumped off the bed, backing away from Dumbledore, looking extremely angry.

"You can’t fool me! You’re from the asylum, aren’t you? ’Professor,’ huh, sure—you know what, I’m not going, alright? That damned old hag should be the one in St. Mungos. I didn’t do anything to little Amy Benson or Dennis Bishop, you can ask them yourself, they’ll tell you!"

"I’m not from St. Mungos," Dumbledore said patiently, "I’m a teacher, and if you calmly sit down, I’ll tell you all about Hogwarts. Of course, if you don’t want to go to that school, no one will force you—"

"I’d like to see them try!" Riddle sneered.

Harry watched as they talked, with Dumbledore gently guiding Riddle, and Riddle’s disbelief in what Dumbledore was saying.

Upon learning that magic was real—and witnessing Dumbledore setting fire to his wardrobe—Riddle’s expression shifted from excitement to fervor.

Yes, fervor, with a hefty dose of greed.

Harry furrowed his brow.

He increasingly felt that it wasn’t Dumbledore’s education that was flawed, but that Voldemort was inherently a bad seed.

It should be said, Dumbledore indeed made a mistake—and that mistake wasn’t about the method of education, but rather, it was allowing Riddle to attend Hogwarts in the first place.

Listening to their conversation, Harry also learned what happened at Wu’s Orphanage.

Who would’ve thought, Voldemort had a habit of petty theft?

With this thought, Harry once again turned his gaze to young Riddle.

So... where is Voldemort’s soul fragment hidden?

Harry initially thought a soul fragment would appear voluntarily, like it did with Hufflepuff’s Golden Cup, but until now, that soul fragment hadn’t shown up.