"But since you say Dumbledore has already made it this obvious, then clearly he intends to deal with this matter properly."
Tver ignored Marvolio's theatrics and fell into thought.
Dumbledore could not leave Marvolio alone forever. Before, it could still be called observation, but now that Voldemort was becoming more and more rampant, he obviously would not allow someone who might be a ticking time bomb to continue existing unchecked.
Sometimes, before dealing with threats from outside, you first have to secure things at home.
Knock knock knock.
"Professor... Headmaster Dumbledore. "
Before Crystal could finish, the door to Tver's office was pushed open.
The moment they saw Dumbledore standing in the doorway, both Tver and Marvolio rose to their feet.
But compared to the tension on Marvolio's face, Tver looked much more relaxed.
"I was just wondering when you would come. I didn't expect it to be such a coincidence that you'd appear outside the office right now."
"That's good. I was worried I might be interrupting."
Dumbledore wore a faint smile, as though he had simply come by for a casual visit out of boredom.
"I heard you returned to Hogwarts and caused quite a stir among the students, only to leave again straight away."
"It sounds as though you have something important to discuss with Tver. In that case, I won't disturb you. Crystal, let's step outside."
Marvolio shamelessly put on a completely natural act and grabbed Crystal by the arm as he tried to walk past Dumbledore.
But after only two steps, Dumbledore caught his arm instead.
"Do you really dislike seeing me that much, Tom?"
"Who's Tom? Isn't this Mr. Marvolio?" Crystal was the first to voice her confusion.
"Crystal, step outside first," Tver said softly.
He had already figured it out. The reason Dumbledore had not acted all this time was not just because of Tver's goodwill, but because of Marvolio, or rather, the possibility that Tom Riddle could still be redeemed.
Of course, Tver could not be sure whether Dumbledore himself had consciously realized that point, considering how many crimes Voldemort had committed and how many righteous wizards he had killed.
If it were Tver, he honestly was not sure he would choose to give Voldemort another chance.
Crystal looked in bafflement at the suddenly silent Marvolio and Dumbledore, then at Tver, who clearly had no intention of explaining anything to her.
In the end, she could only suppress her curiosity, quietly leave the office, and thoughtfully close the door behind her.
"To be honest, even with the resemblance, I doubt many people would be willing to believe that you are the same Tom Riddle who was once such a well-behaved student at school."
After a moment of silence, Dumbledore let go of Marvolio's arm and looked at his young face with a trace of feeling.
This was, in fact, the face he had worn during the period between his school days and the repeated splitting of Horcruxes after graduation. Not many people had ever seen it.
Apart from the early Death Eaters who had followed him from the beginning, only Dumbledore had.
And it was also Dumbledore... who, after completely losing faith in Tom, had all but stopped calling him Tom Riddle at all.
Tver glanced at Marvolio, who remained silent and expressionless, and had no choice but to answer Dumbledore on his behalf.
"There's a view I'm rather fond of. If you want to know what kind of person someone truly is, don't look at what they say. Look at what they do."
"I think the same goes for appearances. No matter what Marvolio looks like, he chose to become Marvolio, not Voldemort."
"What do you think, Headmaster Dumbledore?"
Dumbledore narrowed his eyes slightly and turned his gaze toward Tver.
He had not expected Tver to bring up the question he cared about most so openly.
"But the soul inside him still belongs to Voldemort..."
"To be precise, it belongs to Tom Riddle," Tver said firmly.
No one understood Marvolio better than Tver did. Not even Marvolio himself.
Marvolio did not truly believe there was anything wrong with his ideas about pure-blood supremacy and ruling over both Muggles and wizards.
It was only after Tver's prompting that he realized such a thing was not likely to succeed, or rather, that there was no way to maintain that kind of rule for long.
So he abandoned it very cleanly.
Then, after going through the illusory realm and Voldemort's severing of the past, he gradually came to realize that as Tom Riddle, he should not exist only as a notorious Dark Lord, so infamous that almost no one even knew the real name Tom Riddle anymore.
He was Tom Riddle, born from a pure-blood wizard and a Muggle, the product of a Love Potion, the boy who grew up in an orphanage believing he was a freak.
He was also Tom Riddle, a genius of extraordinary talent, not just in Britain, but in the whole world.
Which meant that the current Marvolio simply wanted to inherit the thoughts and will of the Tom Riddle that Voldemort had cast aside.
To ensure that the soul which had once known only cruelty and savagery would no longer be lost.
Just as Dumbledore was about to question Tver, Marvolio suddenly spoke.
"I want to ask you something..." A trace of sorrowful struggle appeared on his face.
"Did you ever... truly trust me, even once?"
Dumbledore froze for a moment. He opened his mouth, only to realize that for the first time, he did not dare answer Voldemort's question.
He knew the answer, but he did not dare speak it aloud.
But Marvolio had already read it from his expression, and could not help giving a bitter smile.
"No one, Dumbledore. No one ever truly trusted me."
The self-mocking smile on his face grew stranger and stranger, stiff like a puppet's and yet full of the same biting irony as a clown's. It left Dumbledore unable to meet his eyes.
"At the orphanage, I tried talking to them. I tried telling them that I didn't know why I could repair broken toy horses either. I only knew that I wanted them to accept me..."
"But no one was willing to believe me. They only called me a freak."
"You were the first person to tell me I wasn't a freak, but a wizard. I was grateful to you for that, Dumbledore."
Marvolio spoke calmly, and only when he reached that point did his tone grow a little more emotional.
"But why wouldn't you give me even the slightest guidance while I was at school?"
Dumbledore sighed and looked at Marvolio with a complicated expression.
"That was Dark Magic, Tom. I could not teach you those things. Dark Magic was already corroding your soul..."
"Then why didn't you tell me?!" Marvolio suddenly shouted, his eyes tangled with sorrow and disappointment, even carrying a kind of childlike helplessness.
"Why didn't you tell me Dark Magic would corrode my soul?! Why didn't you tell me Horcruxes would only drive my soul mad?!"
"Why... didn't you help me?"