Wizet and Dumbledore continued onward. As the sky grew darker, they drew ever closer to Riddle House.
The silhouette of the backlit house radiated an icy chill. Its shadow stretched long, enveloping the grounds of Riddle House, making it look like a wild beast crouched upon the ground. A suffocating sense of oppression washed over them.
Several figures broke free from the shadows—children bundled up in thick clothing.
"That cripple isn't there today either!"
"I thought so... It's snowing this heavily. How could he possibly be there?"
"So we're just going back?"
"What else? Do you want to go to that little hut? Maybe he's waiting for us there, ready to turn anyone who comes knocking into meat stew!"
"Stop saying that! Mum really made meat stew for dinner. You're going to ruin my appetite..."
"Then what are we waiting for? Let's get back!"
The children quickened their pace and passed Wizet and Dumbledore, only to immediately turn back and stare at them with curious, appraising eyes.
"What are you doing here?"
"Are you the new owners of Riddle House?"
"Coming here now... are you planning to fire that cripple?"
"I'm telling you! That cripple is a terrible gardener! There are more weeds every day. He should've been fired ages ago!"
The children all spoke over one another. Dumbledore finally found an opening and interjected in a gentle tone, "We aren't the owners of Riddle House. We mainly came to take a look at the house."
At Dumbledore's words, the children began chattering all at once again.
"Are you going to buy Riddle House?"
"Then you definitely need to fire that cripple!"
"Yeah! He's too dangerous! He's a murderer! You have to drive him away!"
"A murderer? What exactly happened at that house?" Dumbledore casually pulled out a handful of