Chapter 1: Snape's Visit, I am Tom Riddle
London summers were always rainy, the air thick with the damp scent of earth.
Severus Snape felt an instinctive revulsion for this clammy, oppressive environment.
His heavy black robes seemed utterly out of place in this quiet neighborhood, like a ghost emerging from the shadows.
The purpose of Severus Snape's visit was to guide a soon-to-be-enrolled Hogwarts student.
On this assignment, there was only one surname... Riddle.
"Riddle? Of all the names, it had to be that one. How pathetic," Snape shook his head.
"Riddle" was a perfectly ordinary surname in the Muggle world of London.
However, in the wizarding world, thanks to a certain terrifying snake-faced man, any name associated with "Riddle"
could expect to face all sorts of misfortune—ostracized by classmates at school, viewed with suspicion by others in society.
These people had done nothing wrong. Their only fault was having the slightest connection to "that man"...
Snape continued reading...
"Wait?! His maternal line is a descendant of the damn Gaunt Family?!"
Seeing this, Snape, who always demanded elegance and nobility from himself, couldn't help but curse.
Snape's thoughts briefly drifted to another surname... Gaunt.
The Gaunt Family was not only one of the few direct descendants of Salazar Slytherin, one of Hogwarts' four founders,
but rumor also had it that Lord Voldemort's maternal line originated from the Gaunt Family.
"This... this can't be..."
Snape swiftly forced these chaotic thoughts back into the depths of his mind.
He stopped before the gates of the Ropton Villa district.
A well-dressed, composed middle-aged man blocked Snape's path.
He asked calmly, "May I ask who you are?"
"Severus Snape," he said, "I have an appointment with Mr. Riddle."
The man nodded and stepped aside to clear a path. "Please come in, Mr. Snape. Mr. Riddle is expecting you."
"Wait, let me ask, what is Mr. Riddle's full name?" Snape swallowed hard.
Normally, given Snape's temperament, he wouldn't waste words on these Muggles. A flick of his wand would have made them completely ignore his presence.
The reason Snape was willing to expend the breath was because this new student "Riddle" seemed... off.
"Oh, it's Tom Riddle!"
...
"Tom Riddle..."
Snape walked into the villa district, his spirit utterly crushed.
When he heard the name "Tom Riddle," it felt as if all the blood in his body instantly froze.
Gaunt.
The family that had birthed the Dark Lord.
Snape's mind was instantly flooded with countless chaotic images: the handsome, aloof boy in the dim orphanage, the ominous ring in the dilapidated old house, and those scarlet eyes.
All of it was connected to the man named Tom Riddle.
And now, before him, was another Tom Riddle.
Also an orphan, also raised in the Muggle world, his maternal bloodline pointing to the very same source.
A chill shot sharply up his spine.
Snape felt his fingers begin to tremble uncontrollably and quickly tucked his hands into his robe sleeves.
Cold sweat beaded at his temples and trickled down his skin.
"The Dark Lord... has returned?"
Snape's breathing grew heavy.
He looked at the luxurious villa before him, raising his hand several times to ring the bell, only to let it fall again.
His fear of that man was ingrained in his blood, an instinct.
"I will ring the bell. If the one who opens the door is that boy, or that snake-like face, I will Apparate away immediately and alert Dumbledore."
Snape took a deep breath, a resolute thought forming in his mind.
Once decided, he extended his index finger and, with the desperate resolve of one making a final gamble, pressed the doorbell button.
"Ding... dong..."
The crisp chime shattered the dead silence.
Snape immediately entered a state of the highest alert.
His wand slid into his palm, muscles tensed, preparing for Apparition at any moment.
Time stretched out infinitely.
One second. Two seconds. Five seconds.
He stared fixedly at the door, imagining every possible scenario that might appear behind it.
Just as his worst imaginings were about to take hold, a "click" came from the lock.
The door slowly swung inward.
Snape's pupils contracted to pinpoints, every muscle in his body tensed to its limit.
However, just as the boy behind the door was about to come fully into view, the tension that had threatened to burst from his body was suddenly suppressed.
Snape let out a breath, though not one of complete relaxation.
Standing behind the door was a boy of about eleven.
The boy possessed remarkably handsome features, with delicate contours.
In this, he was identical to the exceptionally good-looking young Riddle from Snape's memories of the orphanage.
But the similarities ended there.
The most striking differences were his hair color and demeanor.
He had short black hair, his features were handsome yet gentle.
The boy wore Muggle casual clothes, his face showing just the right amount of surprise as he curiously sized up Snape. His expression was purely that of a child reacting to a strangely dressed stranger.
The tension in Snape's shoulders eased slightly.
"This likely isn't Voldemort."
So his mind judged.
"The arrogance ingrained in Voldemort's bones would never allow him to disguise himself as such a harmless child. Those eyes also lack the cruelty of the Dark Lord that I know."
Yet, another rational voice sounded in his mind, warning him not to let his guard down.
"There are too many coincidences. The name, the bloodline, the upbringing... it can't all be unrelated."
Snape's panic gradually receded, replaced by wariness.
He silently withdrew his wand into his sleeve, but his fingers remained tightly wrapped around its handle.
Following the boy's lead, Snape entered the villa and stiffly sat down on a single armchair.
Snape cleared his throat, deciding not to waste any more time.
"Tom... Riddle... sir," he awkwardly uttered the terrifying, ominous name.
"My name is Severus Snape, a Professor at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."
Tom played dumb appropriately: "A magic school? Are you joking, Mr. Snape?"
"I know this may sound difficult to comprehend."
"But magic is real. The world you live in is only one side of the coin. On the other side exists an entirely different society composed of Wizards and Witches. You, Mr. Riddle, are by birth a member of that world."
"This... this can't be." Tom said with slight surprise.
"You may have already noticed some things that set you apart while growing up."
"When you were angry or upset, did inexplicable things happen around you? Objects moving, or certain people you disliked meeting with misfortune?"
"Come to think of it, yes. When I was at school, anyone who tried to bully me would end up in a terrible state, covered in bruises."
A look of sudden realization appeared on Tom's face.
"Actually, I was the one who beat them up," Tom silently added in his mind.
"Yes, precisely."
"These talents of yours are not accidental. They stem from your noble bloodline." Snape's tone carried complex undertones.
"Your mother, before marrying your Muggle father, came from an ancient and prominent pure-blood wizarding family... the Gaunt Family."
Snape then went on to explain how the Gaunt Family were descendants of Hogwarts founder Slytherin,
how great Slytherin was, how one could never fully repay Slytherin's favor, and so on.
Snape rambled on, and Tom hardly listened.