Chapter 914 - 369: The Inherently Evil Little Riddle, I’ll Personally...

Chapter 914: Chapter 369: The Inherently Evil Little Riddle, I’ll Personally...

Harry searched for a long time but didn’t find any clues.

He sat on the bed, planning to continue watching the conversation between Dumbledore and young Riddle.

To be honest, he was quite interested in Riddle’s past.

Dumbledore said to Riddle, "It seems like there’s something in your wardrobe trying to get out."

Indeed, a faint rattling sound came from the wardrobe.

Riddle showed a panicked expression for the first time.

Harry knew this must be Dumbledore’s doing since Riddle’s wardrobe didn’t seem like the type that would have mice—besides, the orphanage was well maintained, hardly a place for such small rodents.

"Open the door," Dumbledore said sternly.

Admittedly, Dumbledore could be quite imposing when he was stern.

Yet with that round-faced, bushy-bearded look, Harry found it rather amusing.

This was far more imposing than the white-bearded old man behind him; if it were that somewhat eccentric old man, Harry didn’t think Riddle would be afraid.

Riddle hesitated for a moment, then went over and suddenly opened the wardrobe door.

There were a few tattered clothes hanging on the rod, and on the top shelf, there was a small cardboard box, shaking and rattling, seemingly containing several frenzied rats.

"Take it out," Dumbledore said.

Riddle took down the shaking box, looking bewildered.

"Is there something in that box you shouldn’t have?" Dumbledore asked.

Riddle gave Dumbledore a deep, scrutinizing look with clear, cautious eyes.

"Yes, I suppose so, sir," he said at last in a flat voice.

"Open it," Dumbledore said.

Riddle lifted the lid and emptied the contents onto his bed without looking. Harry had expected something more exciting, but he only saw a bunch of ordinary items: a yo-yo, a silver thimble, a tarnished harmonica. Once they were out of the box, they stopped trembling and lay quietly on the thin blanket, motionless.

"You need to return these things to their owners and apologize to them," Dumbledore said calmly, placing his magic wand into his coat pocket, "I will know if you have done it, and let me warn you—Hogwarts will not tolerate theft like yours!"

Riddle’s face showed no guilt at all, only a calm acceptance and an assessing look at Dumbledore.

Finally, he spoke dryly, "I understand, sir."

"At Hogwarts," Dumbledore continued, "we will not only teach you how to use magic, but also how to control magic. I believe the way you’ve used your magic in the past was unintentional, but it’s something our school won’t teach and won’t tolerate. You are not the first to lose control over your magic, nor will you be the last. However, you should know that Hogwarts can expel students, and the Ministry of Magic—yes, there is a Ministry of Magic—will punish offenders more severely. Every new wizard must accept that once you enter our world, you must obey our laws."

Riddle opened his mouth, but it wasn’t to reply to Dumbledore.

"You see?" Young Riddle looked at Harry beside him, "This is how Dumbledore treats me—he guards against me, scrutinizes me, even threatens me, should I be grateful to him? This is Dumbledore, ha... the wizard everyone praises. I really wish the world could see exactly what kind of hypocrite Dumbledore is!"

"What does that have to do with you being an idiot?" Harry asked curiously.

Riddle’s face froze.

He hadn’t expected that after showing Harry so much, Harry would be so indifferent.

"You don’t understand!" Riddle hysterically knelt on the ground. "Dumbledore ruined my chance to be a good person! It was he who made me never trust anyone again!"

"You were born that way, Riddle." Harry sat with a big boss attitude, legs crossed.

Riddle was silent.

After a while, he raised his head.

"Do you know me?"

"No," Harry shook his head.

"Then, have you..." Riddle asked again, "heard my story?"

"No," Harry shook his head again, "your face is full of stories."

Upon hearing this from Harry, Riddle became frenzied again.

"Yes! Stories!" He said angrily, "If I’m not mistaken, you must be sent by Dumbledore to die, right?"

Harry paused for a moment, nodded, and said, "Yes."

He wasn’t lying; it was indeed Dumbledore who let him in, and he was here to die—of course, to bring Riddle death.

Upon hearing this, a glimmer of satisfaction appeared in Riddle’s eyes.

"That’s it, exactly," Riddle said angrily, "Dumbledore, the hypocritical wizard—someone truly thinks he’s the most powerful white wizard ever? Ha! Don’t be ridiculous, is he really a white wizard? You know, his heart is darker than anyone’s!"

"Oh." Harry nodded, "Just as you said."

He finished speaking and reached out both hands.

"Here I am."

"Exactly!" Riddle nodded heavily. "So, what mistake did I make? Why is Dumbledore always the first to suspect me no matter when? Just like the time the Chamber of Secrets opened! You know, during Principal Dipet’s tenure, the Chamber was opened once, and a student named Elizabeth Warren died—she was bitten by Hagrid’s spider, why does Dumbledore always pin it on me!"