38 years of past events

Whenever the season of heavy snow falls in Siberia comes, the night will become long and endless. I will lock my memory together with myself on the frozen wilderness, and exile the heart that has been vicissitudes due to fatigue. Only then will I It seems that I can feel that I was once so real alive.

There are many things I want to say about my life, and I know that many people are curious and speculative about my vicissitudes of life, but before I try to go back to those distant times to reminisce about the past, please allow me to make a brief introduction.

My name is Randolph Marvolo Salazar Riddle.Born in 1975 in a Muggle cottage next to Wu's Orphanage in England.Is Tom Marvolo Riddle (Tom.Marvolo.Riddle), later Voldemort (Voldemort) only son.

Yes, you heard me right, Riddle, this curse that my father wanted to eradicate all his life is like taking root in the Gaunt family. We have been entangled in the fate of two generations, but we still can't get rid of that damned nightmare and shame, he It is the haze that we have shrouded in the years, and it is our humiliating past with inferiority complex.Sadly, my father and I were unable to escape this cursed fate throughout our lives.

My father passed away for many years, and the legends about him began to multiply and clutter, but if he was in his prime back then, such hearsay would not have been allowed, the Slytherin rule No. 20 Eight Articles: Emphasis on honor above all else.Therefore, if his father was still alive, he would never allow such a thing to happen.

Speaking of my father, more people may only see the pale snake face in the history books, but when he was young, his handsomeness was once sought after, coupled with his extraordinary talent and With excellent ability, my mother sank step by step like this, stepping out of the tragedy of her life.

Of course, nowadays, in some academic comments, it is always used to associate me with my father. They always seem to expect to deduce something from me, such as the shadow of my father when he was young, but It is a pity that I am far from one-thousandth of my father's. The decisiveness of killing and retribution he possessed when he was young, I have never learned it in my endless career. Indecision became the reason why I would never be able to catch up with him in the future.

But if you still want to get a glimpse of some other past secrets from me, then I can definitely help.

In my long memory, besides my father, there is also an old man who influenced my countless choices in the future. I have to say that even though we were standing in such a opposite direction back then, it still didn’t affect my life. All my admiration and admiration for him.

Now, I can still comment on him in the name of my family, as the son of Voldemort, Albus Dumbledore is indeed the most outstanding and great wizard of his time!

But unfortunately, when I was young, I turned a deaf ear to all his warnings and warnings. In that flamboyant and presumptuous youth, I recklessly stepped on the cliff towards darkness and despair, where I was crazy about my father. The age of worship and imitation.

In the autumn of 1990, my 16-year-old career ushered in an uneasy beginning.

"Riddle!" At the corner of the spiral staircase, Dumbledore gestured to me to come over.

"Headmaster Dumbledore?"

"It's so late, why are you still wandering around? It's not a good idea to get caught by Filch."

"It's nothing. By the way, I heard," I paused, and said cautiously: "That kid, he-has come today, hasn't he? Principal."

"It's Harry Potter, isn't it?" He gazed at me with that penetrating gaze, still maintaining his unhurried composure behind his crescent spectacles.

"Hmm." I nodded.

"Did you see it? At the welcome banquet for freshmen."

"Yes." I licked my dry lips, and said a little unwillingly: "I have no other intentions, just go and have a look."

"Then what do you see? Is it extraordinary talent or unparalleled intelligence?" He smiled.

"I didn't mean that," I said.

"But that's what you think in your heart. You want to know how a child who knows nothing and has nothing can defeat your arrogant father—"

"Principal Dumbledore!" I called out to him in a slightly unpleasant tone.

Even if my father did fail at that time, it still couldn't affect his greatness in my heart, the heyday that was so turbulent many years ago.

"Okay, go rest, Riddle."

I looked into his eyes, and the unwillingness and anger that I wanted to say at first was quietly hidden in my heart at this moment, and then I brewed a gentle smile that I used to disguise my vicious thoughts and cunning: " Good night then, Headmaster."

"By the way," I remembered something after walking a few steps, and turned around to tell him, "Please don't call me Riddle in the future, I still like the name Randolph."

Then I heard a sigh from Dumbledore behind me, and I returned to my dormitory in a very happy mood.

At that time, when I was young, I used to do this, stimulating the poor old man with my own weaknesses, thinking that this would frustrate him. However, I didn't know that when I hurt others, I hurt a thousand times more own.I tore that humiliating scar apart and closed it again and again, and it hurt my self-esteem in the bloody youth.

However, as this autumn has not yet passed, the first thing happened to me in six years at Hogwarts.

The legend of the Philosopher's Stone.

Along with this legend came an even more absurd rumor, that my terrible father was also returning, and that he was coming in search of the Philosopher's Stone.

This statement has been spread to ten, ten to hundreds, and the spread is inexplicable and messy.If so, every time someone came to tell me such rumors, I basically dismissed them and scoffed.

"Sometimes, you really look exactly like your father." In the principal's office, Dumbledore folded his hands, smiling faintly on the back of the chair near the back.

"Thank you, I will take this as a compliment, and I am proud of it." I sat across from him, and now there is no one around, I can take off the disguise as much as I want, and admit that I am black without hesitation The son of the devil.Although this is a secret that few people know at Hogwarts.

"Well, I can't help you if you think so, but I came to you today because I have something important to tell you. I have a hunch that man is coming back. Yes, your father, something terrible is about to happen. Now, Riddle, well, Mr. Randolph, you're already in the sixth grade, and I think it's time for you to take your stand."

"Haven't you already found a savior? The boy who survived the catastrophe, this year's first-year freshman, the pride of Gryffindor, Harry Potter."

"Mr. Randolph, it seems that your memory is not bad at all."

"Thank you. As an excellent Hogwarts senior, I am very happy to pay attention to the growth of new students."

"Is that true? It also includes killing fathers and enemies?" Dumbledore looked at me and tried to guess something from it.

"No, to be precise, I only pay attention to the strong."

"But you see, he's just a kid."

"So? You want to tell me that my father was not defeated by him, but by the so-called love. The invisible and intangible love?"

"No, it's in our hearts."

I was silent for a while, because I really didn't know what it was like. As far as I can remember, what I saw was my father's terrifying pale face, and what I heard was high-pitched and cold laughter. A group of trembling and silent servants told me that they were family members.

So for a long time I thought that was love too, except, with the failure of my father, time passed, and love disappeared.

Now it seems that such a theory is too naive and stupid, but I did think so when I was young, and I continued to agree with it for a long time.

"You are very smart, just like your father, which is undeniable, and one of the few outstanding students in the history of Hogwarts, but I sincerely hope that you can make the right choice, at least, don't be like your father Like that."

"What do you want me to do? Help that kid? Hey, stop joking, he's getting enough attention." It even made me laugh when Dumbledore told me that.

"I know it's a bit too much, asking you to stand against your father, so you can choose not to, but if you can, you can try to persuade him."

"To persuade the Dark Lord, this joke is not funny, Professor Dumbledore, you should know him better than anyone else, let him stay in Azkaban to repent, this is something that even Merlin thinks is impossible."

As soon as I finished speaking, Dumbledore's expression suddenly became serious.I'm sure he really looked me in the eye, "You're not like them, Randolph, you're his son." He went on to say, "You know, he'll come back because he needs something Although I can't predict how he will come back now, I have a hunch that this time I can't go wrong."

"Son, I sincerely hope that you can consider what I said to you. I hope you will not become the second Tom Riddle. Don't let me down."

After I came out of the principal's office, I did think about what he said. Later, I felt that what he said was correct. I really shouldn't be the second Tom Riddle.Because at that time, I was determined to become the second Voldemort, and I went further and further on the road of imitating and worshiping my father.It also made the most perfect interpretation for my unreserved rush to the darkness in the future.

The author has something to say:

This article was originally published on Tieba. The hero’s name is relatively long, but he has a very cute nickname, Little Basket, which will be easier to remember