Young Dumbledore crossed the street, and the three of them followed him not far behind.

Eventually, they passed through a large iron gate and entered a bare courtyard.

Behind the courtyard is a boxy, eerie building, surrounded by high railings.

This is the place, right?

Evan looked around curiously, this was supposed to be the orphanage where Voldemort had been a child.

A very famous place, the beginning of the birth of evil, also looks unpleasant.

As Evan looked around, young Dumbledore walked up the steps leading to the front door and knocked on it.

After a few moments, a scruffy girl in an apron opened the door.

"Good afternoon, I made an appointment with a lady of Cole, I suppose she's the head of the house, right?"

"Oh!" the girl said, looking at Dumbledore's overly flamboyant outfit in dismay, "Well, wait a minute, Lady Cole!"

She turned her head and shouted, and a voice in the distance shouted in response, and the girl turned to Dumbledore again.

"Come in, sir, she'll be right there. ”

Aven, Harry, and Dumbledore followed him as a young man into a black-and-white-tiled foyer, which looked shabby, but very neat and spotless, and before the door closed behind them, a scrawny, tired woman walked briskly towards them.

Her face was well-defined, and she looked more anxious than vicious.

As she walked towards Dumbledore, she turned to another helper in an apron.

"Take the iodine upstairs and give it to Martha, Billy Stubbs has scratched all his scabs, and Eric Wallé's blood has stained the sheets. It's unfortunate that I have chickenpox!" she seemed to be speaking into the air, when her eyes fell on Dumbledore and she stopped suddenly.

She looked stunned, as if she had seen a giraffe cross her threshold.

"Good afternoon, ma'am!" Dumbledore said, holding out his hand.

Mrs. Cole looked at him dumbfounded, and did not respond for a long time.

"My name is Albus Dumbledore, and I have written to you asking you to make an appointment with me, and you have very graciously invited me to come over today. ”

Mrs. Cole blinked, and she seemed to have decided that Dumbledore was not her hallucination, so she pulled herself together and said, "Oh, by the way, Mr. Dumbledore's letter, yes, that's right! Okay, well, you'd better come to my room, yes......"

She led Dumbledore into what looked like a living room and half office, as shabby as the foyer, with old and unmatched furniture. She invited Dumbledore to sit in a rickety chair, and she herself sat behind a cluttered table, looking at him nervously.

"I have already told you in my letter that I am here to discuss with you the affairs of Tom Riddle and to arrange a future for him. Dumbledore said.

"Are you his relative?" asked Mrs. Cole, suspiciously.

"No, I'm a teacher. Dumbledore said, "I've come to ask Tom to come to our school." ”

"So, what kind of school is this?"

"The name of the school is Hogwarts. Dumbledore said.

Evidently, Mrs. Cole had never heard of such a place, and the look of suspicion on her face was even stronger.

Scammers use this excuse to trick children away, and it is possible to go out and do anything, and you can always see this kind of sensational report in the newspapers.

Mrs. Cole doesn't necessarily like Riddle very much, but she has to take responsibility for the safety of the children here.

"How can you be interested in Tom?"

"We think he has some of the qualities we're looking for. ”

"You're saying he won a scholarship? How could that be? He never applied for it. ”

"Oh, as soon as he was born, our school recorded his name. ”

"Who registered him? his parents?"

There is no doubt that Mrs. Cole is a very shrewd woman who can be a bit of a headache.

Dumbledore apparently thought so, and instead of continuing to answer her question, he pulled his wand out of the pocket of his velvet suit while picking up a completely blank piece of paper from Mrs. Cole's table.

"Give. He handed her the piece of paper and waved his wand, "I think you'll see it all when you look at this." ”

Mrs. Cole's eyes flickered for a moment, then she focused again.

She looked at the blank piece of paper for a moment, this hand was really beautiful, perfect for psychic inducing magic.

Evan thinks that Katie may have fallen for this magic yesterday, and that something was enchanted in the women's bathroom of the Three Broomsticks Bar, maybe the brown paper wrap itself, and Kate was induced as soon as she touched it.

One thing is certain, this is definitely not the magic that the Ministry of Magic allows wizards to use.

Evan looked up at Dumbledore, who seemed to know what Evan was thinking and smiled at him.

"It seems to be in full compliance with the procedure. Mrs. Cole said calmly, returning the paper to Dumbledore.

Then, her gaze fell on a bottle of gin and two glasses, which certainly weren't there a few seconds ago.

"Well, may I ask you for a glass of gin?" she said in a particularly suave voice.

"Thank you very much. Dumbledore said with a smile.

It was clear that Mrs. Cole was no novice to gin.

She filled the cups of the two of them, and drank her own cup in one gulp.

She smacked her lips unabashedly and smiled at Dumbledore for the first time, who immediately struck while the iron was hot.

"I wonder if you can tell me about Tom Riddle's background, which seems to have been born in this orphanage?"

Obviously, Dumbledore wasn't a novice in terms of his level of familiarity......

Inducing magic combined with relaxing gin, and dementoring with barely any traces of casting.

God, don't say Dumbledore just wanted to know about Riddle, he could easily ask anything he was interested in from Mrs. Cole's mouth now, anything, and it was still so gentle.

If other wizards were here, they might just come hard!

Truth-spitting potions or heart-piercing and bone gouging, these are the ways that dark wizards like to be.

"yes, that kid grew up here. Mrs. Cole said as she poured herself some more gin, "I remember that very well, for I had just come here to work. It was Chinese New Year's Eve, it was snowing outside, it was freezing cold, and it was a bad night. The girl, not much older than I was, very weak and emaciated, she had suffered, and she really did not know how to persevere, staggered up the steps of the front door. Ahem, we've been through this a lot. We brought her in, and within an hour she gave birth, and less than an hour later, she died. ”