Vincent suspected that perhaps because he had done many similar things before, little Tom's behavior did not seem sincere to him. He was far too calculating.
"At first, I thought he was an orphan, so I never felt that there was anything wrong." Dumbledore looked deeply saddened.
Almost every child in that orphanage had been bullied by little Tom.
Beloved pets had been killed, precious belongings stolen, and children taken before terrifying things.
In Grandpa Wayne's words, the boy had been psychologically twisted since childhood. When he grew up, he would certainly become a qualified villain.
A perpetrator, a liar, a thief...
He had done everything he could to please Dumbledore simply so he could go to Hogwarts and study magic.
He had rejected the goodwill of those who wanted to accompany him to Diagon Alley because he trusted no one but himself.
"Was my father a wizard? They said his name was Tom too? Tom Riddle."
"I'm sorry, I don't know." Young Dumbledore's voice was very gentle.
"My mother couldn't possibly have known magic, or she couldn't possibly have died—" little Tom muttered as if talking to himself. "That's right, it must have been my father..."
Perhaps the name Tom was simply too common. He seemed unwilling to let others address him by it.
Once he learned that Riddle was not a surname unique to wizards, he would probably despise the name even more.
That might also have been why Voldemort drew such a clear line between himself and being handsome.
Little Tom shook hands with Dumbledore to say goodbye, then suddenly said, as if deliberately:
"I can talk to snakes.
When we went on outings in the countryside, I discovered—they found me and whispered to me.
Is that normal for a wizard?"
Dumbledore hesitated for a moment, his