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Dumbledore's revelations had deeply shaken Severus, placing him in a delicate situation. He had learned that the master he had served was actually named Tom Marvolo Riddle. Severus was not naive enough to believe that Voldemort was his true name. However, the name Riddle was entirely unfamiliar to him. Severus had never heard this name, and he would have sworn that no pure-blood wizarding family bore it. Why hadn't he been more curious? He had listened for months to all those grand speeches about blood purity without ever doubting his master's word. He, a talented half-blood, had often been belittled by his fellow students from the country's oldest families. Some of them were nothing more than complete idiots, brutes, degenerates. But that wasn’t the worst…

Horace Slughorn, who had taught him Potions for seven years and was now his colleague, was certainly hiding a secret. He had known this Tom Riddle when he was just a teenager studying at Hogwarts. According to Dumbledore, the Potions Master held crucial information about his former student, something that could destroy him. In truth, the headmaster of the school of magic didn't know for certain. It was one of his suppositions. But Severus had an intimate conviction that Dumbledore wasn't wrong.

The young teacher had learned from his new master that he too had known Tom Riddle very well. Just like Slughorn, Albus Dumbledore had taught this student, considered brilliant. Unlike his colleague who taught Potions, Dumbledore had met young Riddle long before his arrival at Hogwarts.

"The headmaster, Dippet, had sent me to London to deliver this child his acceptance letter."

Had Severus not been seated, he would have surely fallen. Rarely were future students visited by a teacher before their admission. Professors only travelled to meet children born to Muggles, like Lily.

"Don't tell me..."

"No, Severus. Tom Riddle lived in an orphanage in London where he had been left at birth."

This latest revelation completely stunned Severus.

"He was a very intelligent child, and I would even say already quite powerful. He had never heard of our world but was fully aware of his difference. His mother – from what I've been told – died very shortly after giving birth to him in that orphanage. Talking with Tom, I quickly understood that he was not quite like other boys. He despised the children he grew up with. He even used his powers to play very nasty tricks on them. At only eleven years old, he had an overinflated ego, but I thought Hogwarts could correct his flaws."

Severus was mesmerized by Dumbledore's story.

"He had a penchant for theft," recalled the head of the Order. "Don't think it was out of pure greed, Severus, absolutely not. Tom stole personal items from his victims to turn them into trophies."

"I don’t know what to say," Severus breathed.

"The list of his misdeeds at the orphanage is very long, believe me. The directress – a brave woman a little too fond of drink – confided in me that Tom had traumatized two children his age during a seaside outing. These two children were never the same again and never wanted to say what Tom had done to them."

"What... What do you mean?" stammered Severus.

Dumbledore took a breath before continuing his tale.

"Stand up, Severus... I'm going to show you what I discovered a few days ago."

Dumbledore cast a spell on a hidden cabinet which opened and revealed a strange container: a Pensieve.

"I'm going to show you one of my memories," Dumbledore announced.

The old man pointed his wand at his own head, and a silver thread coiled around it.

"Look, Severus."

The professor plunged his gaze into the silvery substance and found himself suddenly projected into Dumbledore's memory.

*

Severus was no longer in Dumbledore's office but in a deserted street lined with brick houses. It was night and a light drizzle was falling. A streetlamp dimly lit the street, and a dog could be heard barking in the distance. Severus had a sense of déjà vu. This neighbourhood looked strangely like Spinner's End, but it was much cleaner and slightly less miserable. Next to him stood Dumbledore, but he wasn’t wearing his usual lavender robes. He was dressed in a suit any Muggle could have worn. However, Severus doubted that a Muggle would have paired a purple waistcoat with a green shirt, red trousers, and a pink bow tie.

Dumbledore approached one of the houses, and Severus followed. He saw him knock on the door and wait a few moments before a woman in her fifties opened it. She had only half-opened the door, still held by a chain.

"Miss Benson?"

"You're the... the professor... who... who... is researching Wool's Orphanage?" the woman stammered.

She had stringy hair tied back in a ponytail, and she was trembling all over. Dumbledore nodded, and the woman let him into her house. She led him to her kitchen and offered him a cup of tea, which she nearly spilled.

"How did you find me?" she asked, blowing on her cup. "Wool was demolished years ago... I saw they built towers there. I do some cleaning in that neighbourhood now."

"Libraries have their uses sometimes, madam," Dumbledore replied with a smile.

"What do you want to know? I don't like talking about my time there... It wasn't a happy period, especially since I never had the chance to be adopted."

Dumbledore gave her a sympathetic smile and explained that he was conducting academic research on children placed in the 1930s in London.

"Complicated," she sighed. "It was a grim place, but relatively well-kept. Mrs. Cole did what she could with the resources she was given. There were many of us, you know... Poor Martha went through a lot, but she loved us deep down. There were few adults to look after us. The poor ones were quickly overwhelmed."

Miss Benson sighed and took a sip of her tea.

"It wasn’t easy every day. Some gave more trouble... I really don't like talking about it."

Severus saw that the woman's gaze was empty and tired, like his mother's. There was no doubt that this poor woman was worn out and bore the weight of a painful childhood, marked by deprivations.

"Some children weren't kind, were they?"

The woman nodded.

"There was everything. I remember the cries of the youngest, those who had been abandoned. It was terrible for those who still remembered their parents and thought they would come back for them. In my misfortune, I was lucky to be dropped off when I was just a baby. That's what they told me. They left a letter... My mother, from what was written, died during childbirth, and my father gave up."

She took another sip of her tea.

"That was common at the time. There were many of us about the same age, or almost."

"Did you have good relationships with the children your age?"

She took a few seconds to think.

"Yes, we stuck together... But there's one I will never forget," she said in a trembling voice.

"Tell me," Dumbledore gently insisted.

"I... I can't."

Severus then saw Dumbledore do something he would never have suspected of him. He discreetly waved his wand and cast what seemed to be a Confundus Charm on the woman. Then he discreetly poured a substance into her cup, likely Veritaserum.

"Don't be afraid, you can talk."

"His name was Tom, Tom Riddle. He arrived a little after me. I think his mother died during childbirth. He was a strange boy who played with no one. He didn't talk much... Strange things always happened around him. We never had proof, because sometimes it was simply inexplicable... Once, Tom and Billy had an argument and a fight. You know, just kids' stuff. And shortly after, we found Billy's rabbit hanging from the rafters. It was horrible! Billy cried for days. He loved his rabbit, we all did."

"What were your relations with Tom?"

"Me, at first, I didn’t care much about the stories circulating about him. He was just an odd kid who liked to be alone. I knew better than to mess with him. I thought the others got what they deserved. One day, Mrs. Cole, Martha, and the others took us to the seaside. You know, we only left the orphanage once a year, and we looked forward to this trip. It was summer..."

She sniffled a bit and brought a shabby handkerchief to her lips.

"I was with Dennis. He was a good lad... He was adopted a few months later by a country couple... Tom came to find us. I had never seen him like that, he was smiling. He told us he had seen something and that he wanted to show us. I can't remember the name of that beach; it's been so long. I think it was quite steep, with some cliffs. Tom told us to follow him. We didn't suspect anything... He was so cheerful and seemed kind. You must think I was naive, after what I've told you... But Tom had never done anything to Dennis and me."

Miss Benson nervously scratched the tablecloth with her nails.

"I don't know how he did it... But he led us to the edge of a cliff. I was scared, and I feared we'd get told off... We weren't allowed to stray from the rest of the group. He called us cowards and said he was going to show us what he was capable of. Suddenly, he pushed us and we found ourselves in a cave. The fall should have killed us... I'm not even sure if what I'm telling you really happened. The worst part... it was just the beginning of the nightmare. I don't know how Dennis, Tom, and I ended up in that cave. It was dark and cold."

"Did he hurt you?" asked Dumbledore.

The woman lowered her eyes and her fingers scratched the old tablecloth once more.

"You know, I don't believe much in God, but that boy... He was the devil himself. Dennis and I never talked about it, to anyone. Who would have believed us? Without touching us, Tom hit us, pulled our hair, pinched us... And then, he brought us back to the surface. The others were looking for us. Mrs Cole asked us lots of questions, but we couldn't talk. She wouldn't have believed us... Sometimes, I think it was just a nightmare, that it never happened."

Dumbledore shook his head. He seemed to believe the woman's account.

"In any case, a few months after this incident, Tom left the orphanage. Well, not really. He returned every summer. Mrs Cole didn't tell us where he went, but we quickly understood it was some sort of institution for the insane... It seemed to do him good, as he kept a low profile during the summer. Maybe he was taking medication."

**

The memory faded and Severus found himself once more in Dumbledore's office, standing foolishly before the Pensieve.

"Why did you show me this?" he asked in a pale voice.

Dumbledore, arms crossed behind his back, walked away.

"What is the connection with what you told me?" Severus insisted.

"What did you understand, Severus?"

The young man, shaken, straightened up. He knew Voldemort was a cruel wizard. He hadn't hesitated to cast the Killing Curse on a baby, on Harry. Nevertheless, Severus struggled to realise that this Dark Lord had once been a child, a mere boy. It was absurd. Everyone was born, grew up, aged, and eventually died. The Dark Lord had led his followers to believe he was more than a mere mortal. Yet, Voldemort was just a man who had been born in a sordid orphanage.

"Everything is jumbled," he admitted to the Headmaster.

"This testimony may not be of any use in destroying Voldemort, but I wanted to show it to you so you would understand where he came from. The boy who studied at Hogwarts was not very different from the child in the orphanage. Of course, Tom did not torture his classmates at Hogwarts. He was very charismatic and had plenty of admirers."

Dumbledore hadn't stopped walking and staring at the floor.

"Tom, during that outing, didn't know he was a wizard. However, he was aware that he had exceptional abilities that those he should have considered his brothers and sisters did not possess. On the contrary, he chose to torment them and use them to develop his powers."

"Who is he? Really... Where does he come from? Riddle... That name means nothing to me."

Dumbledore gave him an enigmatic smile. The Headmaster knew.

"It's a mystery I have solved over the years. Throughout his schooling, I kept an eye on Tom. He suspected it, of course. He was far from stupid. When Tom arrived at Hogwarts, he knew nothing about his parents, only that his father had the same name as him, and that his maternal grandfather was named Marvolo. Tom was convinced he had inherited all his magical potential from his father, because – according to him – dying in childbirth was far too trivial for a witch."

Severus's blood pulsed in his veins. No, witches were not infallible. Magic, unfortunately, did not always protect women, and even less so mothers.

"But he was wrong," Dumbledore continued. "His mother was a witch, and his father a Muggle who had abandoned his pregnant wife. Don't blame him too much, Severus... This man was ensnared by a witch, his neighbour. Her name was Merope Gaunt."

That surname, Severus had come across it in old tomes. But he had never met any member of this illustrious family, said to have died out a few years ago. The last male of this pure-blood wizarding line had died in Azkaban while Severus was studying at Hogwarts.

"Merope never had much luck in her life," the Headmaster continued. "She was the only girl in her family after her mother's death and was mistreated by both her father and brother. They all lived in an old shack, and poor Merope, who could barely use magic, endured daily cruelty from the two men. Her life was bleak, and she had no hope of leaving the clan. However, there was handsome Tom Riddle, the son of a wealthy couple who owned a beautiful manor. Tom Riddle was a very proud Muggle, and to be honest, his family wasn't well liked where they lived. Merope, a very plain young woman, was madly in love with him. Her father nearly killed her when he found out she had feelings for that Muggle."

"Was it reciprocal, sir?"

"I wish I could tell you yes. Alas, Tom Riddle Senior only felt disdain for the Gaunts. Years of inbreeding had mentally and physically impaired the members of this illustrious family. Ruin came quickly, and they settled in a dilapidated cottage."

The Headmaster paused to observe Severus for a few moments.

"I'll spare you the details, but Marvolo and Morfin Gaunt were imprisoned in Azkaban in the 1920s, and Merope was left alone. For the first time in her life, she was free to do as she pleased and no longer beaten by her father and brother. I think she was truly happy."

Dumbledore returned to his desk, but Severus was unable to move.

"The Gaunts and the Riddles lived in a small village called Little Hangleton," the old man revealed. "A few weeks after the Gaunts' arrest, the small village was shaken by a terrible scandal. Handsome Tom Riddle, the son of the local landowners, had run away with the miserable Merope Gaunt, even though he was more or less engaged to a lovely young woman from a good family."

"Riddle might have been in love with her," Severus said.

"No, Severus. Tom Riddle Senior only had disdain for that family and cared little for Merope, who had no charm. He probably didn't despise her as much as the two men did, otherwise she would never have been able to approach him. I imagine it wasn't difficult for her to attract, on a hot summer day, Tom Riddle to her. He loved horse riding every day, and Merope's only pleasure was watching him pass by her window. She might have offered him a glass of water, and the trap was set."

"But I thought she was a Squib... She couldn't have..."

"I believe the absence of her family allowed her magic to blossom. However, I don't think she could cast the Imperius Curse. It's a very complicated spell, and Merope struggled with even simple spells. I think it was more likely a love potion, a slightly more romantic method. She could have obtained it or made it herself. It's the only rational explanation for their flight to London. For about a year, Little Hangleton heard nothing of them, and Marvolo Gaunt died shortly after his release from Azkaban. His daughter's flight with a Muggle must have been the final shock. Gaunt was very attached to blood purity and hated Muggles."

"Where did they go after arriving in London?" asked Severus, moving towards a chair.

"They got married, and Merope became pregnant. Unfortunately, Merope's happiness was short-lived because about a year after their runaway, Riddle abandoned her and returned to Little Hangleton. There, he claimed he had been deceived. People then believed that Merope had tricked him into thinking she was pregnant so he would marry her. In truth, I think Merope was convinced that Riddle had genuinely fallen in love with her, and she stopped enchanting him."

"But he hadn’t," Severus murmured. "He never loved her."

"Indeed, after regaining his senses, Riddle left Merope pregnant and went back to live with his parents. Merope, desperate, gave birth to their son a few months later in an orphanage and died shortly after."

Severus's hands gripped the back of his chair tightly. He had never thought he shared so many similarities with the Dark Lord. His former master had managed to deceive and manipulate him by touching the most sensitive points of his childhood.

"How did you learn all this? And Riddle? Do you know what became of him?"

"I’ve been investigating for years," Dumbledore replied with a smile. "My first encounter with young Tom Riddle at the orphanage provided me with some information that helped solve a few mysteries. The matron confided that the child bore the names of his father and maternal grandfather. I was fairly certain the child was the son of a Muggle, as I had never encountered any Riddles in our community before meeting young Tom Marvolo Riddle. For years, I didn’t think about it, not even in 1943 when Morfin Gaunt was sentenced to life for a triple homicide. The Prophet reported that the victims were three Muggles, without providing any details. At that time, Hogwarts was just emerging from a terrible incident, which I will discuss later, and that conviction—among many others—was the least of my concerns. It was only several years later, when the war broke out, that I began my investigation. Sit down, my boy. Would you like a lemon candy? You look quite pale."

Severus dropped into the chair but refused the tart sweet with a sort of growl.

"Too bad," Dumbledore said, nodding. "I had suspected for some time that Lord Voldemort and Tom Marvolo Riddle were one and the same. My intuition was not mistaken, especially since the brilliant boy I had known at Hogwarts had disappeared for several years. One day, he showed up in my office, just as I had been appointed headmaster, and asked me to assign him the Defence Against the Dark Arts position. It wasn’t the first time he had asked, but Headmaster Dippet, on my advice, had always refused, citing his young age. When he returned in the early 1970s, Tom had changed significantly, and not for the better. His characteristic beauty had vanished, and his face had undergone some transformations. There was no doubt that repeated use of dark magic was to blame. Naturally, I refused. Tom certainly had some interesting skills, but he was not a teacher."

Severus let out a bitter laugh.

"I suspected his motives had nothing to do with teaching," Dumbledore continued, ignoring his professor. "He had never shown the slightest camaraderie during his years at Hogwarts. I had a hunch that he wanted to return to Hogwarts to recruit and train his future followers. It was from that moment that I truly began my investigation, focusing on his middle name, Marvolo. I combed through all the school library records and found Marvolo Gaunt. Then, by visiting the Ministry, I learned that he had two children who had never been schooled, Morfin and Merope. Morfin's name was not unfamiliar to me, as I had read about twenty years earlier that he had been sentenced to life in Azkaban for the murder of three Muggles. I got hold of the trial reports, and the name Riddle appeared on the first page."

Severus's eyes widened upon hearing this.

"Thomas, Mary Riddle, and their son Tom were found dead in their manor in August 1943. An inexplicable murder, as the bodies had not suffered any violence. Our authorities quickly arrested Morfin, who did not try to deny it. Moreover, his wand had indeed been used to kill the three Muggles. Upon discovering this, I soon understood that my former student was the son of the Muggle who had been murdered and that the woman who had given birth and died on December 31, 1926, in that orphanage was Merope. I then found some witnesses who had known the Gaunts, the Riddles, but also Tom. And I also made another startling discovery. Morfin, who was proud of having killed three Muggles, was in fact innocent. Visiting him in Azkaban, I realised his memories had been tampered with. Unravelling the truth from the falsehood, I discovered that he had met his nephew in Little Hangleton in August 1943. The latter had committed the murders of his father and grandparents and had accused his mother's brother after altering his memory. Unfortunately, I did not have time to have Morfin released. He died just as the acquittal process was being initiated."

All the revelations had stunned Severus, who had not sought to gather these confidences. Tom Riddle and he shared so many similarities. Their mothers were pure-blood witches, their fathers Muggles, and both boys had been neglected. Severus had at least grown up with his parents, but he would have preferred a thousand times to live elsewhere. He had no memory of when his parents loved each other and were happy. He had only known insults, screams, and blows.

Doubt gradually crept into his mind. What if his mother had used ruse—just like Merope Gaunt—to seduce his father? And what if, like Tom Riddle, Severus had been conceived without love? What kind of child could be born of such a union?

"Now Severus, you know enough to carry out your new mission."