Tom let out a soft sigh and clutched his teacup with a hint of grievance. "I didn't steal those things. Even in that impoverished orphanage, I still had my own pride. Those little trinkets were given to me by my little friends—I mean, the snakes I talked to. They couldn't stand what those children were doing, so they gave them to me... I'm not trying to justify myself, but I really hate being misunderstood by you..."
Feeling so awkward he wanted to set something on fire, Dumbledore guiltily rubbed his nose. What a misunderstanding. He had never imagined it would turn out like this. That brat! Why hadn't he said so back then? Telling him now only made him feel even more guilty. "Uh... ahaha... I see. Little Tom, could you forgive what I did back then? I... I'm sorry..."
The corners of Tom's lips curled up slightly. He felt as though he had finally let out a breath he had been holding, and he nodded his little head in satisfaction. "Of course. It was only a small misunderstanding, Professor. You needn't take it to heart..." After a pause, Tom wrestled with whether to simply tell him about last night's dream. He wasn't sure whether the professor would begin to dislike him again because of it. After all, a wizard's dreams were more or less... mysterious.
"Just as I said before..." Dumbledore noticed Tom's hesitation and softened his voice, giving Tom—or perhaps both of them—a chance in his heart. "I would be very willing to listen to whatever troubles you. As your professor, it is my responsibility and duty to guide you."
Tom blinked. He had an intuition that today's decision would affect the rest of his life. Lowering his gaze to the drink gradually cooling in front of him, he drew a deep breath and made his choice. He was Tom Riddle, only Tom Riddle—not that utterly cold person from his dream. "Actually... I've been having a vivid dream..."
Tom recounted everything from his dream in detail. When he finished, he clenched his fists nervously, filled with worry and unease. He was afraid the professor would say it was abnormal. He was afraid the professor would say it was his future. He didn't want that incomparably handsome upperclassman to lose his former brilliance and become a cold, lifeless corpse.
Dumbledore's expression darkened as he rubbed his temples with a headache. He had never encountered anything like this before and could not immediately determine why it was happening, much less find a solution. With a sigh, Dumbledore reassuringly ruffled Tom's little head.
"Tom, I'll need to look into some materials regarding this matter. Promise me that no matter what, you won't be tempted. Legilimency... may be difficult for you, but I still hope you can master this profound magic as soon as possible..."
Tom nodded firmly and set down his completely cold cup. Then, with an indescribable expression, he watched the professor he respected most grab a handful of Cockroach Cluster and stuff it into his mouth. Tom forced himself to look away and made a vow in his heart: in this lifetime, he would never eat that stuff! "Thank you, Professor. I'll do it. Then I'll take my leave..."
After leaving Dumbledore's office, Tom shuddered, trying to forget what he had just witnessed. He swore he had heard the Cockroach Cluster scream! How terrifying. Did one have to use such a method to strengthen one's resolve in order to become truly powerful?
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