Riddles Past and What's Behind It (Demo)

Family Legacy

Tom Riddle had heard whispers about Little Hangleton, a small village located a few miles away from Hogwarts. It was the place where his family had lived before they died, and he had never been there himself. But something about the stories he heard intrigued him, and he decided to visit the village during the summer holidays.

As he walked through the village, Tom couldn't help but feel a sense of unease. The houses were old and dilapidated, and the streets were quiet and empty. But as he approached the largest house in the village, a sense of curiosity overtook him.

This was the house where his mother had lived as a young woman, and where she had met his father. It was also the place where his father had abandoned her, leaving her to raise Tom alone. As Tom stood in front of the house, he felt a mixture of anger and sadness.

But he was not alone for long. A woman approached him, and Tom recognized her as Mrs. Cole, the matron of the orphanage where he had spent most of his childhood.

"Tom Riddle," she said, her voice cold and disapproving. "What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to see the village where my family lived," Tom replied, trying to sound casual.

Mrs. Cole snorted. "Hmph. You don't belong here, boy. You never did. Your family was nothing but trouble, and you're no different."

Tom bristled at her words, but he knew better than to argue with her. Instead, he turned and walked away, his mind filled with thoughts of his family's past and his own future.

Tom Riddle had always been curious about his family's history, and so he decided to pay a visit to the Gaunt Shack, a small cottage on the outskirts of Little Hangleton where his ancestors had lived.

As he approached the shack, he could see that it was in a state of disrepair, with broken windows and an overgrown garden. But something about the place called to him, and he stepped inside.

Inside the shack, Tom found himself face-to-face with an old man who was sitting in a chair, muttering to himself. Tom recognized him as Morfin Gaunt, his grandfather's brother.

"Who are you?" Morfin growled, eyeing Tom suspiciously.

"My name is Tom Riddle," Tom said, trying to keep his tone polite. "I'm a descendant of the Gaunt family."

Morfin's eyes widened at the mention of the Gaunt name, and he stood up from his chair, towering over Tom.

"What do you want?" he demanded.

"I just wanted to learn more about my family history," Tom said. "I was hoping you could tell me about the Gaunts."

Morfin snorted. "You think you can just waltz in here and demand to know about our family history? You're nothing but a filthy half-blood, just like your mother."

Tom bristled at the insult, but he kept his cool. "I may not have pure blood, but that doesn't mean I can't be proud of my family's heritage."

Morfin narrowed his eyes, sizing Tom up. After a few tense moments, he seemed to come to a decision.

"Very well," he said gruffly. "I'll tell you about the Gaunts. But you must promise to keep what I say a secret. If the Ministry found out, they'd throw us both in Azkaban."

Tom nodded eagerly, and Morfin launched into a long and rambling tale about the Gaunt family's history. As he spoke, Tom listened intently, soaking up every detail.

When Morfin finished, Tom thanked him for his time and left the shack, deep in thought. He knew that what he had learned would be invaluable to his future plans, and he felt a sense of excitement at the prospect of what lay ahead.

Tom Riddle sat in rapt attention as Morfin Gaunt regaled him with tales of the Gaunt family's past. He was particularly interested in learning more about his father's side of the family, which he knew little about.

"And what about my parents?" Tom asked, after Morfin had finished a particularly gruesome story about one of his ancestors.

Morfin's expression darkened. "Your parents, eh? They were both Muggles, weren't they?"

Tom nodded. "Yes, they were."

"I remember the day they died," Morfin said, his voice low and gravelly. "I was here in the shack when I heard a commotion outside. I looked out the window and saw your father and his parents walking up the path to the house."

Tom leaned forward, his eyes widening with interest. He had never heard this story before.

"Your father was arguing with his parents, telling them he was going to marry your mother, despite their objections. Then, out of nowhere, your grandfather pulled out his wand and blasted them all with a Killing Curse."

Tom's breath caught in his throat. He had always suspected that his parents had been murdered, but he had never known the details.

Morfin continued, his voice rising with anger. "That filthy Muggle had the nerve to come into our village and try to take one of our own. He got what he deserved."

Tom didn't know how to feel about what he had just heard. He had never had much love for his Muggle father, but the idea of his parents being murdered was still a shock.

"Thank you for telling me," Tom said, his voice low.

Morfin shrugged. "It's the truth. And it's important for you to know where you come from."

Tom nodded, lost in thought. He knew that this information would be useful to him in the future, but he couldn't shake the feeling of sadness that had settled in his chest. He had never known his parents, but the knowledge that they had been murdered was still a heavy burden to bear.

Tom Riddle stood in front of Morfin Gaunt, his wand at the ready. Morfin looked at him with suspicion and anger, his eyes flickering over to the signet ring that Tom held in his hand.

"What do you want with that ring, Riddle?" Morfin growled, his breath heavy with the scent of whiskey.

Tom felt a twinge of irritation. He had hoped to avoid this confrontation, but he knew he couldn't back down now. "I need it for a ritual," he said evenly. "I promise it will be returned to you unharmed."

Morfin snarled. "And what kind of ritual would that be?" he demanded. "You know I don't trust you, Riddle. You're up to something."

Tom felt his patience wearing thin. He had no time for Morfin's paranoid delusions. "It's a private matter," he said firmly. "But I assure you, it is nothing illegal or dangerous."

Morfin laughed bitterly. "You think I'm a fool, boy? I know what you're capable of. You want to use that ring for some dark magic, don't you? You're always up to no good."

Tom's temper flared. He had no patience for Morfin's insults. "I am not a boy," he snapped. "And I will not stand here and be accused of something I have not done. The ring will be returned to you as soon as I am finished with it."

Morfin glared at Tom, his eyes flickering with suspicion. But after a moment, he seemed to relent. "Fine," he said grudgingly. "But if anything happens to that ring, you'll regret it."

Tom nodded curtly, then turned and left the shack. He could feel Morfin's eyes on him as he walked away, but he ignored them. He had what he needed, and he was one step closer to achieving his ultimate goal.