Who let this Dementor into Hogwarts!

Chapter 575 Some stereotypical villains look like this.
Then, Dumbledore poured another bottle of memories into the Pensieve—

This time, Cohen went in first without Dumbledore pushing him.

Harry followed closely behind, followed by Dumbledore.

Soon, they landed on the ground they remembered, surrounded by a dark room—but by using a few pieces of broken furniture as anchors, they could quickly recall that this was actually the Gaunt family's old house.

It was even dirtier than the last time they had seen it. Thick cobwebs covered the ceiling, the food on the table was rotten and infested with insects, and there was a pile of rusty kitchen utensils.

The only light source was a candle at the feet of a man whose hair and beard had grown long enough to cover his eyes and mouth, and who sat motionless in a chair.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door.

The man stood up, holding a wand in his right hand and a dagger in his left.

“Morphin?” Harry said.

"The classic setup is a wand in one hand and a knife in the other, with the knife primarily serving as a physical deterrent and a way to conserve one's own hand," Cohen commented, nodding.

"Squeak-"

The door opened, and standing outside was a tall boy with black hair, a pale face, and handsome features, carrying an old-fashioned oil lamp.

It was obvious that the person who came was Tom Riddle, who had been enrolled for several years.

He and Mofen stared at each other for a moment, then Mofen suddenly shouted:

"you you!"

Mofen seemed to have lost the ability to utter a single word; he struggled for a long time without being able to form a complete sentence. Alcohol, Azkaban, and his empty house drove him even more insane.

He brandished his knife and wand, and drunkenly lunged at Riddle.

But Riddle stopped him with just one sentence.

【stop.】

Riddle hissed in Parseltongue.

"You would say something like that?" Mofen said.

"Yes, I will." Riddle walked into the room, and the door behind him closed automatically.

His face showed only disgust—disgust for this filthy place, disgust for the "Slytherin descendant" in front of him who looked like a vagrant.

Then came a moment of disappointment.

He had assumed that the descendants of Slytherin, his ancestors, the noblest pure-blood family, would at least have a respectable house and noble manners—but Morfin looked like a beggar crawling out of a stinking ditch.

"Where is Mavolo?" Riddell asked coldly.

“Dead,” Mofen said. “Dead for many years, hasn’t it?”

“Then who are you?” Riddle asked, frowning.

"I am Mofen."

"Mavolo's son."

“Of course, then…” Morfin brushed his hair aside to get a better look at Riddle, and at that moment, the black gemstone ring on his right hand was clearly visible.

“I thought you were that Muggle, you look just like that Muggle,” Morfin said.

This undoubtedly stung Riddle's pride.

"Which Muggle?" Riddle demanded sharply.

“The Muggle my sister’s obsessed with, the Muggle who lives in that big house across the street.” Morfin spat on the ground, and Cohen was surprised he could still manage to drool—he looked like he was about to starve and die of thirst. “You look like him, Tom Riddle, but he’s older—yes—he’s older than you…”

Mo Fen, feeling a little dizzy, leaned against the edge of the table.

“He’s back, you know that?” Mofen said, puzzled. “Riddle’s back?” Riddle asked, squinting.

"Ah, he abandoned my sister! My sister deserved it, marrying trash!" Morfin spat viciously on the ground, each time spitting between herself and Riddle, as if she were spitting on Riddle herself. "And he stole our things before she ran away! Where's the locket? Humph, where did Slytherin's locket go?"

Riddle didn't say a word, but Morfin grew angrier and angrier, brandishing his dagger and shouting:

“You’ve disgraced us! That little slut! Who are you to come here and ask such questions? It’s all in the past, isn’t it…it’s all in the past…”

His body swayed slightly as Voldemort stepped forward—

"Crack!"

Cohen quickly took a picture from this angle.

“Cohen!” Harry asked, puzzled.

"The unspeakable little secret between Voldemort and his uncle." Cohen waved the camera in his hand.

“It’s time to go.” Dumbledore grabbed their shoulders, as the memories around them began to crumble.

"Is that all?" Harry asked.

“Not enough—can I look at it again?” Cohen said, examining the photo. “Maybe I should have taken it from behind Moffin…”

“Because Morfin can’t remember what happened after that,” Dumbledore sighed. “Cohen, taking his picture won’t really help defeat him.”

“But it can make him unhappy,” Cohen said very seriously. “The more unhappy the enemy is, the happier I am—and he is very likely to lose his mind from repeated anger…”

“That makes sense,” Dumbledore could only say. “The day after this memory occurred, Morfin woke up to find that Marvolo’s ring was missing.”

"'Also missing is something of vital importance to Mofen...' Cohen wrote, having pulled out a notebook at some point."

"What's that?" asked Harry.

“‘His chastity,’ Cohen said. ‘Thanks for the invitation, I’m the King of Shit-Moving.’”

“Don’t tell me…” Harry said, suppressing a laugh.

Dumbledore also joined Cohen with great interest, looking at what Cohen had written in his notebook.

Dumbledore didn't continue speaking until Cohen finished writing.

"When Morpheus awoke, at the same time, in Little Hangleton, the bodies of old Tom Riddle and his parents were found. The Muggle authorities were baffled, because they couldn't figure out how the Riddles died; the Avada Kedavra curse usually leaves no trace... Of course, the only exception is among us," Dumbledore said.

Harry touched his forehead.

Cohen touched his butt—because he'd been hit by an Avada Kedavra curse there when he was a freshman, but nothing happened.

"The Ministry of Magic arrested Morphin because of his criminal record and his shared hatred of Muggles," Dumbledore continued. "Without much interrogation, Morphin confessed immediately and was proud of it. His wand proved to be the murder weapon used to kill the Riddle family."

“Riddle stole Morphin’s wand and used it to kill someone,” Harry pondered.

“And Morphine’s ring,” Dumbledore added. “Morphine was terrified of it. Before he went to prison, he repeatedly told his arresters, ‘I’ve lost his ring, and he’ll kill me.’”

“Looks like Marvolo has tormented him quite a bit too,” Cohen clicked his tongue. “A family of freaks.”

"The Ministry of Magic can only detect magical traces in a certain area using traces, but it can't detect who cast the spell," Dumbledore said. "That's how Riddle escaped the investigation."

"What?!" Harry's eyes widened.

“I thought Cohen would tell you.” Dumbledore looked at Cohen with some surprise. “In wizarding families, it is mainly the wizarding parents who supervise the children’s behavior at home.”

“I promised Edward I would keep it a secret from the students,” Cohen said innocently, raising his hands.

“Well…” Harry said sullenly, “No wonder the Ministry of Magic didn’t find out about us at the inn that time…”

(End of this chapter)