Chapter 561: A Familiar Figure (Edited)

"Why does the nanny suspect it was you?" Dumbledore was a little curious. "Wouldn't it be easier to deny it outright?"

"Because I usually don't like to eat apples, and I often end up throwing away the halves I have left," Tom explained to Dumbledore. He was grateful that Dumbledore didn't say nonsense like "the blame is not solely on one."

Many things are just unfortunate. Tom recommended that anyone who said "the blame is not solely on one" should slap themselves in the face to see if a single clap could make a noise.

But when recalling other experiences in the orphanage, Tom thought that the nanny wasn't actually that bad; she just had a venomous mouth and an impatient temper.

At that moment, the scene in the Pensieve changed.

"This is for you."

"A withered flower?"

"No, look..."

"Monster! You're a monster!" The little girl quickly backed away, throwing a blooming flower at a withered bush, in an environment of decay that didn't fit with everything else...

Tom scratched his head, not expecting to have done something so astonishing when he was a child.

"If Miss Granger sees this memory, you'll be in trouble," Dumbledore teased mischievously.

"No, she'd just be delighted. I did the same thing with her, and she didn't call me a monster. And getting close to that girl was just to take advantage of her. I hoped her parents would adopt me, of course, but you know how it ended," Tom stood his ground like a French roll that had been resting for a week.

"So..." Dumbledore stroked his beard. "I might speak with Miss Granger someday..."

"No need," Tom shook his head repeatedly. By that time, the memory fragments in the Pensieve had played out completely, and the Pensieve returned to its original state: like a flowing silver river, emitting a faint light.

"It seems we didn't get much," Dumbledore observed.

"Actually, I got quite a bit," Tom interjected, staring at the old prankster as he added a clarification to his statement.

However, the ability to make withered flowers bloom again in his memory caught Tom's attention. Before becoming a wizard, he could use this ability freely. But after a few years of studying magic at Hogwarts, he lost this ability, which he found peculiar.

Could learning at Hogwarts make you regress?

Seizing the opportunity of having Dumbledore present, Tom raised his doubt. Upon hearing the question, a slight sadness flickered in Dumbledore's eyes.

"Magic is a wonderful thing, Tom," Dumbledore said, looking at Tom through his glasses. "It's hard for young wizards to control their magic; sometimes they can perform unexpected and even advanced magic. Your ability to revive withered plants, Mr. Potter's ability to make glass disappear, and things like falling down the stairs and then floating—all fall into that category. But these special abilities will gradually disappear as they learn to control their magic."

Dumbledore explained to Tom the reason why young wizards could perform various magical feats, and under Tom's insistence, he taught him a spell with a similar effect.

"This spell can revitalize withered plants. Why do you want to learn it?" Dumbledore asked.

"You'll find out sooner or later," Tom left it hanging, refusing to reveal more for the moment.

After chatting for a while, Tom made his second attempt. This time, the memories he extracted were even more fragmented and obscure, giving the feeling that they could fade away with just a gust of wind.

Fortunately, the Pensieve was right in front of him, and Tom easily tossed the fragments of memory into it.

The images this time were even dimmer and flickering, conveying an extremely unstable feeling, like watching a movie on an old projector about to break in an old film reel.

But the background could still be discerned clearly: it was a rainy night, a person hugging themselves as they walked in the rain.

"Huh?" Tom felt like he was seeing a useful memory. Unfortunately, the light in the memory fragments was too dim, and the memories themselves were fragmented and broken, so he couldn't see the details clearly.

Tom wanted a clearer view, so he instinctively leaned forward, bringing his face closer to the surface of the Pensieve. Dumbledore grabbed him immediately.

"This memory isn't stable enough. If you enter, you'll be ejected," Dumbledore said softly as he carefully examined the memory.

The rain in the scene of the memory intensified, and Tom was led by the mysterious figure to a building. The person who led him crouched down and placed him under the building's eave. The overhanging eave and the steps above ground level created a dry space where the rain couldn't reach, and the water couldn't flood.

In that moment when the person crouched down, lightning crossed the night sky, briefly illuminating the field of view and revealing the silhouette of the mysterious figure from the darkness. Tom widened his eyes—it was someone who looked a lot like someone he knew!

Tom saw a tuft of black hair and a monocle. The heavy rain quickly slid off the person's body, not even wetting the hem of their clothes. As they crouched down, the person slipped a piece of paper into Tom's bag. The lightning disappeared in an instant, and the scene plunged back into darkness, once again blurring the person's face.

At that moment, the scene started to shake violently. It seemed like the man had done something, and then the memory fragment broke completely.

That memory disappeared.

Both Tom and Dumbledore fell silent.

"Now I know where my name comes from," Tom laughed at himself, but Dumbledore didn't react to Tom's mockery.

"It's getting late," after a few seconds, Dumbledore looked at the clock on the wall, "should we stop here for today?"

Although Dumbledore phrased it as a question, it was actually an imperative sentence.

Tom obediently left the headmaster's office.

On the way, his mind was filled with questions of all sizes. He desperately wanted to know if the person holding him in that memory was the person he suspected, and he also wanted to know who this person called Evans "Ravenclaw" really was. Where did this person come from, where were they going, and what are they doing now?

So he returned to his dorm room and climbed into his bed. Tom felt like he needed a good night's sleep now. And so, with his head full of questions, he entered the realm of dreams.