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Chapter 172 - 《HP: Too Late, System!》Chapter 172: Welcome Mr. Tom Riddle Back to the Riddle Family

Dumbledore's brow furrowed. Tom Cruise had been the first to come into contact with Tom's diary last year, and the first whose memory had been tampered with.

At that moment, Dumbledore understood Douglas's point. Perhaps this was why Douglas could uncover the Chamber of Secrets and clear Hagrid's name—he never let a single detail slip by.

Dumbledore's mind flashed back to the plan they'd discussed at Douglas's house, and the goals for the coming school term. Although Douglas wouldn't be teaching directly, Dumbledore resolved to introduce him to Remus Lupin at the first opportunity. Who knew? Perhaps Lupin would find Douglas's ideas quite intriguing.

Finally, Dumbledore adjusted his glasses and, deciding to lend Douglas a hand, said earnestly,

"Morfin is still alive, as far as I know. Whether or not we discover anything new, I'll continue to investigate."

Douglas, a little embarrassed, murmured his thanks.

Dumbledore smiled, not for a moment thinking Douglas was making trouble. In fact, he agreed—if only doubts had been addressed at the time, perhaps things would have turned out differently…

Suddenly, Dumbledore stopped in his tracks, a look of shock crossing his face.

The abruptness startled Douglas. "Professor, what's wrong?"

Dumbledore gave a wry smile.

"Perhaps you're right. We all made mistakes.

I just remembered something—after Morfin was arrested, he kept telling his captors, 'He'll kill me. I lost his ring. He'll kill me.' I believe the ring he meant is the very one in your box.

Because, after that, I once saw Tom wearing that ring on his hand. He seemed to wear it as a mark of identity, though I didn't pay it much mind at the time.

And just now, I was focused on the gemstone, but thinking back, I'm certain it was the same ring on Tom's finger.

It doesn't prove Tom was the murderer, but it does prove he visited the old Gaunt shack during that period.

Looks like I really do need to pay Morfin a visit. Perhaps he even knows something about the locket's whereabouts…"

Douglas gave a rueful smile. Would Dumbledore never have taken Morfin seriously if he hadn't remembered this detail?

He could vaguely recall that memory—Voldemort, now an adult, murdering his father's family and framing his own uncle. The specifics were blurry, but he remembered it was the second-to-last memory Dumbledore shared with Harry before his death. It must have been important.

Of course, Douglas had his own reasons for wanting Morfin's innocence proven, even decades after the fact. It would give his new teaching plan a powerful case study—something to inspire students' thirst for truth.

As they spoke, the pair reached the gate of the Riddle House. Looking back, Douglas realized the manor overlooked the entire village.

But the house itself was in ruins. Every window was boarded shut, the roof tiles were broken and missing, and the whole place was smothered in ivy.

Douglas's first impression was of dampness, desolation, and long neglect.

Yet the lawn showed signs of recent trimming, and bicycle tracks crisscrossed the grass. Clearly, someone still came here.

He also noticed a brand-new nameplate by the gate—Watson Manor—completely out of place with the rest of the building. Apparently, the property had changed hands.

Just as Douglas decided to go inside for a look, an old man shuffled out from the side of the house, limping and muttering. He shouted,

"Get out, you little… brats and old b******s—!"

He paused, clearly thrown by the sight of someone who looked older than him, but was far more vigorous.

Seeing Douglas and Dumbledore standing their ground, watching him with mild amusement, the old man grew even angrier. He waved his cane and hobbled toward them.

Dumbledore glanced at Douglas and said quietly,

"Don't hurt the old fellow…"

Douglas's mouth twitched. Which of you is the real old man here…?

But he didn't waste time. With a snap of his fingers, he caught the old man's gaze.

Douglas didn't use Legilimency or any invasive magic—the man's body would never withstand it. Besides, he couldn't exactly break the law in front of the Headmaster, could he?

After all, they'd just discussed Morfin's imprisonment in Azkaban for casting spells on Muggles. Douglas was confident the Ministry couldn't pin anything on him, but still.

So, he stuck to a harmless Ministry-approved hypnotic charm, planting a suggestion that the old man should never approach the house again.

He wasn't sure whether, in the original story, this old gardener had been present when Voldemort returned. But if he had, knowing Voldemort's temperament, he'd likely have been killed.

Douglas could see the man was probably the house's gardener. Since he was now out of a job, Douglas slipped him a generous sum of compensation, pressing it into his hand.

The old man, convinced he'd just been fired, hobbled off toward the village, grumbling under his breath, clutching the money.

Dumbledore chuckled.

"You really think Tom would come back here?

Don't forget, Tom loathes Muggles. We've just been speculating that he murdered his own father's family. Would he really return here at his weakest?"

Douglas shrugged, unconcerned.

"Maybe he'd just lost his mind. Didn't you say insanity ran in the family…?"

Dumbledore was momentarily speechless.

Douglas pushed open the gate and stepped into the decaying house. Even though it was broad daylight, every window was sealed, and only a few pale shafts of light crept through gaps in the ruined roof.

He didn't go further in. Instead, he drew a magical radar from his pocket and switched modes.

Dumbledore leaned in, eyeing the display, which showed two blinking red dots.

"These must be us, I suppose?"

Douglas shot him a look of surprise. For an alchemy master, Dumbledore certainly learned fast.

He nodded.

"It's set to detect magical sources. If there's a wizard or magical creature nearby—even if they're invisible—they'll show up on the radar.

It should even detect ghosts, though most of Britain's ghosts are at Hogwarts. I'll have to test that when I'm back at school."

Dumbledore looked puzzled.

"Douglas, did you forget about the Human-Presence-Revealing Spell?"

Douglas tucked away the radar.

"Of course not. This mode is based on that spell. Think about it: when we're exploring, we can't keep casting it every minute.

But with the radar, we can spot anyone approaching or hiding, and it just takes a bit of magic power…"

He didn't venture deeper into the house. Instead, he drew his wand and began to wave it in practiced arcs.

Within moments, glowing words appeared all over the Riddle House—on walls, floors, everywhere:

[Welcome Mr. Tom Riddle Back to the Riddle Family]

It was a graffiti charm Douglas had specially designed:

First, only wizards could see the message. Second, it couldn't be removed by magic.

Of course, the ever-considerate Douglas had left one loophole: the only way to erase the graffiti was with Muggle cleaning products. Anything with a trace of magic would simply fail.

And unless the wall itself was ground to dust, the message would remain, even if the structure was destroyed.

Dumbledore stared at the familiar handwriting, utterly stunned.

He couldn't help but think: if a weakened Tom ever saw this, he'd probably suffer a second magical outburst from sheer rage.

 

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