Riddle House was at the end of the village, out of place in Little Hangleton.

It seems to have stayed where it was four or five centuries ago. Even the asphalt road has not been built there, only a muddy path covered with snow.

The hat cursed all the way and asked several times to fly again.

Harry did not agree. He did not believe in the hat's technology and was afraid of rushing into the Riddle House. It was not that he felt sorry for the dilapidated old building, but he was worried that there might be a magic trap left by Voldemort inside.

As the hat opened cautiously closer.

This building is not as deserted as it looks. Someone has lived here for a long time, but the traces are very old, and the latest ones are at least half a year old.

They stopped at the door.

Harry pulled out the Sword of Gryffindor and cast Quon on himself, while Dumbledore waved his wand and cast the Armor Charm on both of them.

"I don't feel the magic." Dumbledore looked at this dilapidated old house.

Harry nodded: "I didn't sense anything either."

Dumbledore walked to Harry and let the cold wind blow on his face: "This is a great story. If you want to, you might be able to write a novel that is not inferior to Lockhart."

"There was no external injury at the time of death. These disgusting traces are the thick water after the corpse decomposed, and there are also traces left by other creatures eating the corpse."

He squatted down again, waved his wand, and swept away layer after layer of snow. Dumbledore wasn't sure why he did this, so he just watched quietly.

"You already know a lot about his dark history." Dumbledore said softly.

"That's a good direction, Harry I will."

Dumbledore shook his head: "Tom was very popular when he was in school, but he never developed a relationship. As for what happened after he left school, I don't know anything about it."

"Just a guess." Harry patted the dashboard, "Drive well, or let me do it."

Harry nodded: "Maybe, I just said maybe."

Dumbledore hesitated, frowning.

The hat braked suddenly and almost threw the two of them out: "What did you say? That person has a child?"

Four-wheeled carts are uncommon, and those that need to be pushed all the time are even rarer.

"No one has walked here since the first snowfall." When the last layer of snow was swept away, revealing some moist soil, Harry clapped his hands and stood up, "There are no footprints, and the snow is clearly layered. It has not been swept away."

He continued to inspect the house.

"Professor Dumbledore, you can't believe what I found." Harry shook his head and squatted next to the sofa.

Harry dropped the bone: "Over sixty years old, not sure if he is a wizard, male."

Dumbledore spoke in surprise, raised his hand to push his glasses slightly, and looked at the sofa in disbelief: "You mean the child?"

"Words are very powerful weapons." Harry nodded and used his wand to knock on the door. "That time in the second grade, it was because he couldn't speak to me and he became angry and angry, so I took the opportunity."

Dumbledore's expression was cold: "Although it is hard to believe, if what you discovered is true, it is not impossible."

"I hope he won't. After all, he is his own flesh and blood."

It is difficult not to deduce such a result.

Harry walked in with a clear goal and walked straight to the second floor.

Dumbledore waved his wand, and magic surged in, checking every corner: "There are no magic traps."

He stood up slowly and walked towards the bed in the bedroom. There was a thick layer of dust on the mattress. He lifted it up. The mattress was flat with only some traces of tiny creatures crawling. The weather turned cold. After eating the old man, he stood up slowly.

These creatures live here after the dead body.

The rotten smell couldn't wait to get into his nose as the door was pushed open.

"As you are, there will at least be a coffin or an urn." Harry continued to check the ground around the bones, "And there will be a cemetery. I assure you, even if your relatives don't want to take care of it, there will still be me.

."

To be precise, it was no longer a corpse, but a withered skeleton. The flesh and blood had long been eaten up by creatures large and small, and even those creatures had dispersed, leaving only some finely divided corpses lying around the withered bones.

"You know more about him than I do, whose child do you think it could be?" Harry continued to ask.

Dumbledore's eyes were deep: "Death Curse?"

The different layers of dust made the traces of three months ago visible to him, and what he could see surprised him.

"No, no, no, I can." The hat continued to drive smoothly, "What's that guess?"

"You know what I mean."

There is the smell of rotting wood, rotting fruits and vegetables, and the aftertaste of rotting human bodies.

"I'm afraid it's even more unbelievable than the dark history." Harry's eyes were strange. "There were only footprints of an adult in the house, and he was pushing a four-wheeled cart."

The snow piled up at the entrance of the mansion covered the steps, and there were no traces of anyone passing by for a long time.

"It's a pity that he died for so long that we can't be sure whether he was poisoned, but if it was that person, I'm afraid he wouldn't have been poisoned."

"The first one is that a lady is holding her newborn child and living in this house, but she is being chased by her elders, or the tracker sent by the unfaithful man, or other people who want to hinder her and...

Those who were with the children found out that the lady had to use the Killing Curse to kill whoever found their traces and then escape."

Harry walked to the window and opened it. The cold wind blew in and hit his face: "Now I have two thoughts."

Harry took over the conversation naturally: "I will let Miss Skeeter investigate these matters. She is much more experienced than you."

The door to the master bedroom is open.

They searched this dilapidated mansion again, but many years later, the owner changed here, and almost all the things inside were furnished from the past ten years, and the traces of the Riddle family's existence had long been erased.

Harry stopped at the door, his eyes were deep, and he looked down the stairs into the depths of the house: "The more you know, the more weapons you will have."

"Whose child?" Harry asked.

"Of course, like you, I prefer him taking care of the children."

"It's very possible." Harry stood up and sighed slowly: "But it's only possible. Many traces can't be seen clearly, and I can get very little information."

"And we might be right."

Harry nodded: "It would be better if he never came. I really hope he can forget to deal with the dark history on his father's side."

Dumbledore broke out in a cold sweat: "Use a baby? Harry, although I know some black magic, I have never set foot in such an evil field."

But they did nothing, they just erased their traces, left the old house, and returned to Little Hangleton. Dumbledore secretly cast a spell on a person, planting hints in his heart, and asked him to go there in the next few days.

Go to Riddle's old house and find the bones.

Harry reminded him: "Maybe not, I just picked it randomly."

Harry continued.

This dilapidated cabin has more of a living atmosphere than a mansion, but it has accumulated dust for several months and has become dilapidated.

Ordinary police officers cannot be expected to solve wizard cases.

There was a small cabin outside the mansion, and Harry and Dumbledore naturally didn't miss it either.

"In the house, I found some traces that might be strollers or baby cradle." Harry answered him expressionlessly.

The guest who suddenly broke in had no intention of cleaning the house.

This is good news for Harry.

As he spoke, his expression became strange: "Maybe after the first grade, in order to regain his strength, he had no choice but to find his old lover."

Dumbledore was stunned.

The hat drove honestly on the road, and the speed was not very fast, only fifty miles per hour. It removed the protection of the magic spell and fully enjoyed the feeling of speed.

Dumbledore chuckled.

"Second guess."

Harry rubbed his cheek: "I'm not talking about the future, but the present. Senior Tom doesn't look like a person who can have father's love."

"Maybe Tom has never been here in the first place." Dumbledore walked up to him.

"Our senior Tom gave birth to a child during the years when he disappeared. He came to have a son at an old age. He valued the child very much and always took good care of it."

"Could that child be his trick?"

"This is the best news I've heard this year." Dumbledore smiled brightly.

"It has been dead for at least three months." Harry took out his dragon leather gloves and put them on, then picked up a bone and looked at it carefully. "It hasn't changed much yet, no more than six months."

"Children are innocent." Dumbledore sighed, "I missed educating Tom back then, and I can't miss his child again."

"This man just has some quirks. He needs to push a stroller to walk, and he doesn't like to sit on a good sofa, so he has to put a heavy basket on it."

"Will this be the case after I die?" Dumbledore sighed with emotion.

"What would you do if Senior Tom really had a child?" Harry suddenly asked on the way.

Dumbledore didn't have time to answer.

"There was also a basket about thirty inches long placed on this sofa."

"Are there any similar spells in black magic?"
To be continued...