Other than Albus Dumbledore, no one knew that the reward from the question-and-answer space had already been implanted in his mind.
Everyone's gaze swept over him, trying to find where the reward was hidden, but they found nothing.
As they wondered what this so-called intelligent auxiliary chip was, their curiosity toward Dumbledore only grew stronger.
Only Tom Riddle, standing nearby, noticed that something about Dumbledore had changed.
However, no matter how perceptive he was, without knowledge of such concepts, he could not realize that the reward existed inside Dumbledore's mind.
Even so, he concluded that the reward must be somewhere on Dumbledore's person.
It was the only answer he could arrive at.
And it was wrong.
"Not bad, very good, a wonderful feeling."
Dumbledore murmured softly, drawing everyone's attention.
Their curiosity was now fully focused on him.
But Dumbledore had no intention of explaining what he had received.
"If the mistakes made are not too great, it is never too late to realize them, as long as one is willing to accept punishment and spend the rest of their life making amends."
"Tom, you are still yourself. Everything can still be saved. It is not too late. There is still time."
After steadying his emotions, Dumbledore spoke seriously to Tom Riddle.
Dumbledore was not a rigid man.
On the contrary, he was more open-minded than most in the wizarding world.
After careful consideration, he chose to say these words, effectively setting aside the past, as long as Tom did not continue down the same path.
Perhaps it was because of his lingering guilt over past mistakes.
Or perhaps it was because, in his heart, he had always separated Tom Riddle and Lord Voldemort into two different individuals.
Or perhaps it was both.
Whatever the reason, it caused the old man to hesitate.
His greatest thought now was that if Tom could change, then when Tom and Voldemort eventually clashed, it would become a conflict of ideologies between two versions of the same person.
That alone could buy time for the future.
But it also carried great risk.
If Tom was deceiving him, then the consequences would be severe.
Facing two Voldemorts at their peak would be no small matter.
"Perhaps some of my assumptions are correct. Tom's soul was split, which is why he became effectively immortal."
Dumbledore fell into deep thought.
"But what did he use to preserve his soul? Judging from his memories, he does not know anything beyond his student years. Does that mean each fragment only contains memories up to the point it was split?"
"No, that cannot be certain. If Tom mastered this method, it is impossible he created only one fragment."
As Dumbledore continued thinking, Tom silently watched him.
For reasons he could not fully explain, his resistance toward Dumbledore had lessened.
What had always driven him?
Was it not simply proving that he was right?
And why had he wanted that?
Because of Dumbledore's attitude toward him during his years at Hogwarts.
Because Dumbledore had always looked down on him.
Because Dumbledore had always tried to control him.
That was when Tom realized that power was everything.
With enough power, one could dominate others completely.
But to gain power, one needed strength.
Absolute strength.
The greatest strength in the wizarding world.
Including the power to conquer death itself.
The current Tom Riddle was not yet the Lord Voldemort who had reached a dead end.
He was more rational.
More composed.
More ambitious.
The fire of youth still burned within him.
He wanted to conquer everything he could see.
The wizarding world.
The Muggle world.
Everything.
Because of this, when faced with Dumbledore's sincere attempt to stand beside him, Tom hesitated.
"Sorry, Professor, but perhaps we are not enemies."
The statement was contradictory, yet clear.
He did not want to oppose Dumbledore.
After his soul had been restored, many of his previous obsessions faded.
His hatred toward Muggle-born students had weakened.
At most, he now only felt mild disgust.
After all, Tom Riddle and Lord Voldemort were the same person.
Even if they now existed as separate individuals, they were still connected.
Tom could influence Voldemort.
And Voldemort could influence Tom.
They were like two halves of the same existence.
Tom was aware of the name Voldemort.
After all, who had not once entertained grand and unrealistic ambitions in their youth?
Now that his rationality had returned, he began to reassess everything.
He needed to reorganize his future plans.
As for releasing the Basilisk to terrorize Hogwarts, he had completely abandoned that idea.
Before, it had been driven by obsession.
Now, he had only one goal.
To fully restore himself as quickly as possible.
Then leave Hogwarts.
The farther, the better.
At least until he possessed power equal to Dumbledore, he had no intention of returning.
"Perhaps I can locate my other soul fragments and absorb them one by one to strengthen myself."
"And those pure-blood families can still be useful."
"I can use them to create chaos within the British Ministry of Magic, rebuild my forces, and then leave Britain."
At this moment, Tom had only one clear thought.
What Voldemort had done had nothing to do with him.
He was Tom Riddle.
...
📢 Author's Note
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