"How much do you know about Riddle?" Howl paced around the dirty house; the sofa had long since been gnawed through by rats from who-knew-where, and even the areas not covered by dust were caked with grime.
His fingertips continuously flicked out small light projectiles, knocking over tin cups or directly piercing through cabinets, followed by the sound of breaking pottery.
"Hmm, I was the one who contacted him for his admission. That year, he was still a child, living alone in an unloved orphanage.
Early on, he discovered his uniqueness and felt smug about it. Perhaps it was talent, or perhaps a craving for such supernatural abilities.
When I met him, he could already control magic quite freely, achieving extraordinary things purely through desire.
He also caused many malicious incidents that frightened other children and developed a habit of hoarding stolen goods.
No, no, no, that's not how it should be said. It should be—trophies. He took pride in those 'victories.' "
"And he reveled in the feeling of power, thinking, 'I can easily hurt them whenever I want to.' "
As he spoke, Dumbledore's tone grew remorseful, his expression seeming to return to that afternoon in the orphanage.
"So… I made a decision that, looking back now, might have been a mistake."
"What did you do?" Howl looked at him in surprise.
"I revealed to him, 'I can easily hurt him whenever I want to.' My original intention was for him to experience what it felt like from the perspective of someone being bullied.
However, it seems he learned something else from it."
As he spoke, Dumbledore also pulled open a cabinet, revealing two dry blades of grass that looked like they had been there for a very long time.
"After my warning, he only understood from another perspective that he was still too weak, so he learned to disguise himself early on and deepened his pursuit of power."
"That's a unique interpretation." Howl subtly praised him; Dumbledore couldn't discern if there was any other meaning in his words.
"So what kind of person is he, Dumbledore? I'm asking about the logic behind his actions!"
As he spoke, Howl looked at a simple snake-shaped relief carved into the brickwork of the fireplace flue.
"Or to be more direct, is he the kind of person who would hide a Horcrux here?"
"Very likely," Dumbledore nodded.
Generally speaking, there are only two ways to hide something.
Either hide it in plain sight, or hide it in a secure place.
The purpose of both is to prevent others from obtaining it.
"The Gaunt family has always valued ostentation, and Riddle is even more a person who pursues a sense of ritual. This can be seen from how he kept the trophies he got from teasing the orphanage children in his wardrobe when he was young," Dumbledore said.
Subsequently, he also showed the same confusion as Howl.
"Regardless, it's a mess in here. Putting magic aside, this doesn't look like a place with any sense of ritual."
"Tsk—"
Howl rolled up his sleeves and drew his wand.
"Wait! Look again!!" Dumbledore frantically tried to stop him, but Howl's movements were so swift that he had already raised his wand, aiming at the snake pattern on the fireplace.
He was already somewhat distrustful after that last punch.
However, the next moment, his wand became a pen, and runes flew out from Howl's wand, moving towards the snake pattern.
Then, the snake pattern on the brick wall suddenly began to writhe, and soon, it seemed to come alive, slithering across the entire surface of the wall.
Howl withdrew his wand and looked at Dumbledore: "What were you trying to say just now?"
Dumbledore clasped his hands in front of his chest, his withered fingers constantly rubbing his emerald ring.
"No, nothing…"
Howl also adjusted a pewter ring on his pinky finger: "I'm a professional."
"I think so too," Dumbledore smiled, and then both of them turned their gaze to the slithering snake pattern on the wall.
If their guess was correct, then a soul was probably sealed within this snake pattern.
Howl felt that if he were a few years younger, he would probably be making a bet with Dumbledore about whether it was Lord Voldemort's grandfather or grandmother inside.
The snake pattern slithered along the wall, quickly heading towards the inner room. The two men followed quickly, and a moment later, they arrived at the basement door.
This time, the door had no enchantments, but the moment it was pushed open, a massive surge of deathly aura poured out like a flood.
Dumbledore stood behind Howl, his elder wand glowing with a soft but extremely diffused bright light.
As they walked down, the first two wooden steps creaked precariously, groaning under their weight.
As they descended further, the steps became increasingly sturdy, and looking back, they had already descended about three or four stories, far exceeding a conventional basement.
By this point, the crude architectural structures had disappeared, replaced by solid stone brick steps underfoot, a high-vaulted ceiling, and neatly arranged, well-laid brickwork all around.
"Chamber of Secrets?" Howl said.
"It looks that way," Dumbledore's mood improved. Whatever arrangements were inside, at least they hadn't come for nothing.
"I imagine Riddle must have been deeply impressed the first time he walked into the Chamber of Secrets at Hogwarts," Howl said, stepping off the last stair and looking at the statue.
It was a statue of himself.
-------------------------
If you enjoy this story, you can read 70+ advanced chapters on Patreon!
Webnovel will keep getting 1 new chapter every day but Patreon readers can stay far ahead.
Maybe it's not a big deal now… maybe it will be later.
[email protected]/Rexlent
"And If you're enjoying it, drop a Power Stone for me!"