Under the hazy moonlight, the abandoned Gaunt Shack lay half-hidden among the trees. A thin mist drifted around it, and there were no other homes nearby.
As fanatical descendants of Slytherin-and mentally unstable ones at that-how could they possibly have lived beside Muggles?
This was Great Hangleton, a place left behind by the tide of modernization.
Zhang Xiao stood gazing into the distance, with the entire valley spread out before him. Far away lay a village: Little Hangleton. A window in one of its houses was still lit.
The village nestled between two steep hillsides, its church and graveyard clearly visible.
"Look there." Dumbledore pointed to an imposing mansion on the hillside across the valley, surrounded by broad expanses of green lawn.
"Do you see it? That is the Riddle House-I imagine you learned about Tom's life from that diary, correct?"
It was not just from the diary, actually. Zhang Xiao murmured an assent.
"The Dark Lord's biological father?"
A strange idea suddenly popped into his head. What if he went over now and replaced Tom Riddle Sr.'s bones with dog chews...
There was little point in doing that, really. Voldemort certainly knew more than one way to resurrect himself. Just as he had told Wormtail, with someone to help him, he could return to life quite easily.
But he was far too superstitious, insisting on believing in some "prophecy," which was why he had chosen that method.
"There are actually several very interesting memories I had intended to show you."
Dumbledore considered this for a moment, then shook his head.
"The sluggishness peculiar to the elderly, that lack of urgency about time. Quite dreadful... Once we get back, then."
He gazed down into the valley for a while before saying softly,
"Let us go."
Dumbledore produced a small patterned