"I've already completed a private lesson for Harry," Dumbledore told the four youngest Order members, sitting firmly behind his desk, "Now, before the next lesson for Harry, let Take a look at another memory I've collected."

Dumbledore said, and took out a new bottle containing silver-white memories from inside his robe, poked it with his wand, and pulled out the cork.

"This time, let's take a look at Voldemort..."

"His memory?" Tonks asked in surprise, "How did you get it?"

"This is actually my memory," Dumbledore smiled and poured the memory into the Pensieve, and then waved his wand to enlarge the Pensieve. "The memory from decades ago would have been blurred if it hadn't been preserved."

"Are you going to show Harry this memory in a few days?" Black asked.

"Yes, is there a problem?" Dumbledore looked at Blake, "Don't you think Harry is not suitable to read the memory of Voldemort."

"Do not……"

"Come on then."

"As for Voldemort's early experiences, I think you'll remember the last time we talked about the handsome Muggle, Tom Riddle, who abandoned his witch wife Merope and returned to his village in Little Hangleton. home. Merope is alone in London with the child who will become Lord Voldemort in his womb."

Following Dumbledore's introduction, several people buried their heads in the Pensieve. They fell into the darkness again...Seconds later, Lockhart's feet were on solid ground, and he opened his eyes to find him and the others standing on a busy old-fashioned street in London.

"Voldemort's mother gave birth to him in order to get some money and sold all the necklaces we saw last time." Dumbledore walked down the street with the four of them. "That's me." Dumbledore pointed to A tall figure ahead said cheerfully, who was crossing the road in front of a horse-drawn milk cart.

"How much did you sell it for?" Blake asked.

"Ten Galleons."

"Ten Galleons?" Blake said indignantly. "That's a Slytherin pendant! I'm willing to pay a hundred thousand for it!"

"His mother is obviously desperate..." Dumbledore led a few people, followed the young Dumbledore not far or near, and finally passed through a large iron gate and entered a bare yard.

Behind the yard is a boxy, gloomy old-fashioned building surrounded by tall railings. He walked up the steps leading to the front door and knocked. After a while, a scruffy girl in an apron opened the door.

"Good afternoon, I have an appointment with a Mrs. Cole. I think she is the general manager here, right?"

"Oh," said the girl, confused, looking sharply at Dumbledore's quirky outfit, "Um...wait a minute...Mrs Cole!" She turned her head and shouted loudly.

"An orphanage," Lupin said dispassionately.

A voice shouted in the distance and answered her. The girl turned to Dumbledore again.

"Come in, she'll be here soon."

Dumbledore entered a hallway covered in black and white tiles. The whole room looked shabby, but very clean and spotless. The crowd and old Dumbledore followed. Before the door was closed behind them, a scrawny, tired-looking woman trotted towards them. Her face was chiseled and looked more anxious than vicious. As she walked towards Dumbledore, she turned to another helper in an apron.

"...brought the iodine upstairs to Martha, Billy Stubbs scratched his scabs, Eric Walley's blood stained the sheets - bad luck, dyed Chickenpox!" she seemed to speak into the air, when her eyes fell on Dumbledore. She stopped abruptly, with a look of astonishment, as if she saw a giraffe crossing her threshold.

"Good afternoon." Dumbledore said and held out his hand.

Mrs Cole looked at him dumbfounded.

"My name is Albus Dumbledore. I wrote you a letter asking you to meet me, and you kindly invited me to come over today."

Mrs Cole blinked. She seemed to have decided that Dumbledore wasn't her hallucination, so she pulled herself together and said, "Oh, that's right. Well—well—you'd better come to my room, yes."

She led Dumbledore into a cabin that seemed to be half living room and half office. It was as shabby as the foyer, and the furniture was outdated and out of place. She asked Dumbledore to sit on a rickety chair, and she herself sat behind a cluttered desk, watching him nervously.

"I already told you in the letter that I am here to discuss with you about Tom Riddle and arrange a future for him," Dumbledore said.

"Are you his relative?" Mrs. Cole asked.

"No, I'm a teacher," said Dumbledore. "I've come to invite Tom to our school."

"So, what kind of school is this?"

"The name of the school is Hogwarts," Dumbledore said.

"Why are you interested in Tom?"

"We think he has some of the qualities we were looking for."

"You mean he won a scholarship? How could that be? He never applied."

"Oh, as soon as he was born, our school recorded his name-"

"Who registered him? His parents?"

There is no doubt that Mrs. Cole is a very shrewd and a bit of a headache woman. Dumbledore apparently thought so too, and Harry saw him draw his wand from the pocket of his velvet suit and at the same time pick up a completely blank piece of paper from Mrs Cole's desk.

"You brought You-Know-Who into Hogwarts?" Tonks asked in disbelief. "Can't you see what's wrong with that kid?"

"You mean he will become the Dark Lord in the future? Do you think I can see that?" Dumbledore said regretfully, "You can see him first."

"Here," said the young Dumbledore, handing her the piece of paper, waving his wand, "I think you'll see it all when you see it."

Mrs. Cole's eyes flickered for a while, and then she focused again. She stared at the blank piece of paper for a while.

"The Imperius?" Lockhart asked.

"Not exactly, it's actually a very good Confusion Charm," Dumbledore explained gently.

"It seems to be in complete order," she said calmly, returning the paper to Dumbledore. Then her eyes fell on a bottle of gin and two glasses, which must have been there a few seconds ago.

"Well—may I treat you to a glass of gin?" she said in a particularly gentle voice.

"Thank you very much." Dumbledore said with a smile.

Clearly, Mrs Cole is no newbie when it comes to gin. She filled the glasses of the two of them, and drank her own glass in one gulp. She smacked her lips unabashedly, smiling for the first time at Dumbledore, who immediately struck while the iron was hot.

"I wonder if you can tell me about Tom Riddle's life? He seems to have been born in this orphanage?"

"That's right," Mrs Cole said, pouring herself some more gin, "I remember that very well because I had just come here to work. It was a New Year's Eve and it was snowing and cold outside. Damn. One bad weather night. The girl, not much older than I was, staggered up the front steps. Well, we've been through this a lot. We brought her in, no more than In an hour she gave birth. In less than an hour she died."

Mrs Cole nodded meaningfully and took another gulp of gin.

"Did she say anything before she died?" Dumbledore asked. "Like, about the boy's father?"

"Yes, she did." Mrs. Cole, with gin in her hand, and an eager audience in front of her, obviously got her interested.

"I remember she said to me: 'I want him to look like his dad. 'Honestly, she was right to hope that, because she wasn't very good-looking--then, she told me, the child was named Tom after his father, and Marvolo was the middle name after her own father-- Yeah, I know, that's a weird name, right? We wondered if she was from the circus - she added that the boy's last name was Riddle. Then she said nothing and died soon after.

"Afterwards, we named the baby exactly as she said~lightnovelpub.net~ The poor girl seemed to take it very seriously, but no Tom, Marvolo, or Riddles ever came looking for it. He didn't see any relatives, so he stayed in the orphanage until today."

Almost absentmindedly, Mrs Cole poured herself another full glass of gin. Two blushes appeared on her cheekbones. Then she said, "He's a weird kid."

"Yeah," said Dumbledore, "I guessed that too."

"He was weird when he was a baby. He almost never cried. Then, as he got older, he became very...weird."

"Weird, weird in what way?" Dumbledore asked gently.

"That's right, he—"

Mrs. Cole suddenly stopped, and she looked over the gin glass at Dumbledore with an inquiring look that wasn't at all dazed or confused.

"He can definitely go to your school to study, can't he?"

"Sure," said Dumbledore.

"No matter what I say, it won't change that?"

"No," said Dumbledore.

"Anyway, you will take him away?"

"Anyway," Dumbledore repeated solemnly.

"This woman is afraid to scare you, Mr. Principal." Lockhart said with a chuckle.

Mrs. Cole narrowed her eyes and looked at the young Dumbledore, as if judging whether to trust him or not. At last she apparently thought he could be trusted, and suddenly blurted out, "He scares other kids."

PS: (The manuscript is less than 40,000, so I am trying my best to write, and the update is late. I want to collect and recommend tickets, and because the original content appears, tomorrow is Monday again, so there will be a third update in the middle of the night...)

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