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

It seemed to have remained in the past four or five centuries. Even the asphalt road had 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 disagreed. He didn't trust the hat's technology and was afraid it would dive into Riddle's house. It wasn't because he felt sorry for this dilapidated old building, but because he was worried that there might be magic traps left by Voldemort inside.

As the hat cautiously opened closer.

This building is not as deserted as it looks. People have lived here for a long time, but the traces are very old, and the newest ones were at least half a year ago.

They stopped at the door.

Harry drew the sword of Gryffindor and sheathed himself with the Quin, while Dumbledore waved his wand and put the Armor Charm on both of them.

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

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

He lowered his head.

The snow at the entrance of the mansion was piled up over the steps, and there was no sign that anyone had passed by for a long time.

He squatted down again, waving his wand, sweeping away layer after layer of snow. Dumbledore didn't quite understand why he did this, he just watched quietly.

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

"Perhaps Tom was never here in the first place." Dumbledore walked up to him.

Harry nodded. "It would be better if he hadn't been here. I really hope he can forget about the dark history on his father's side."

Dumbledore was stunned. He followed Harry to the door and then slowly said, "You seem to be more concerned about Tom's dark history?"

"Words are very powerful weapons." Harry nodded and knocked on the door with his wand. "In the second year, he couldn't win the argument with me, so he got angry and I took advantage of the opportunity."

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

Harry stopped at the door, his eyes deep, and looked along the stairs into the depths of the house: "Knowing more means more weapon options."

“And we might not be in the wrong place.”

The smell of decay rushed into his nose as the door was pushed open.

There are smells of rotting wood, rotting fruits and vegetables, and also the aftertaste of a rotting human body.

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

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

The door to the master bedroom was open.

The smell of rotting corpses also came from here.

To be precise, it is no longer a corpse, but a pile of dry bones. The flesh and blood have long been eaten by creatures of all sizes. Even those creatures have dispersed, leaving only some small pieces of corpses lying around the dry bones.

"At least three months since death." Harry took out his dragon-skin gloves and put them on, then picked up a piece of bone and examined it carefully. "It hasn't changed color much, so it must be no more than six months."

"Died during the summer vacation?" Dumbledore summed it up for him.

Harry nodded, put down the humerus, broke off a small piece of rib, and crushed it into several pieces with a light squeeze in his hand: "The bones are sparse, and he is very old, not necessarily much younger than you."

"Will it be like this after I die?" Dumbledore sighed.

Harry shook his head. "No."

Dumbledore uttered a sigh.

"With your status, you will at least have a coffin or an urn." Harry continued to examine the ground around the bones, "and a cemetery. I promise you that even if your relatives don't want to take care of it, I'll still be there."

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

Harry dropped the bone. "Over sixty, not sure if he's a wizard, male."

"There were no external injuries at the time of death. These disgusting marks are the thick water left by the decomposition of the corpse, and there are also traces left by other creatures gnawing on the corpse."

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

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

"It's very likely." Harry stood up and sighed slowly, "But it's just a possibility. Many traces are unclear and the information I can obtain is very little."

He continued to check the house.

The sudden intruder had no intention of cleaning the house.

This is good news for Harry.

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

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

Dumbledore was interested: "More of Tom's dark history?"

"I'm afraid it's even more unbelievable than the dark history." Harry looked strange, "There is only one adult's footprint in the room. He was pushing a four-wheeled cart, and he kept pushing it."

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

"You know what I mean."

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

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

And combined with a basket that is just big enough for a baby.

It is hard not to draw such a conclusion.

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

"This person is just a little weird. He needs a stroller to walk, and he doesn't like to sit on a sofa. He has to put a basket with some weight on it."

"Of course, like you, I prefer him to be the one taking care of the child."

He slowly stood up and walked towards the bed in the bedroom. There was a thick layer of dust on the mattress. He lifted it up and found that the area under the mattress was flat with only traces of some tiny creatures crawling. The weather had turned cold, and these creatures had lived here after eating the old man's body.

But there was no sign that an adult had slept there.

Dumbledore hesitated, frowning.

Harry walked to the window and opened it, letting the cold wind blow in and hit his face. "Now I have two ideas."

"The first one is that a lady was living in this house with her newborn baby, but was discovered by her elders, or by the trackers sent by the unfaithful man, or by other people who wanted to prevent her from being with her child. The lady had to use the killing curse to eliminate the people who found their tracks, and then escaped."

Dumbledore walked over to Harry and let the cold wind blow on his face. "This is a great story. If you want, you might be able to write a novel that's as good as Lockhart's."

"Second guess."

Harry continued.

"Our senior Tom had a child during the years he disappeared. He valued the child very much and has been taking good care of him."

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

"Whose child?" Harry asked.

Dumbledore was stunned.

"You know him better than I do. Whose child do you think it is?" Harry continued to ask.

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

As he spoke, his expression became strange: "Maybe after the first year, in order to regain his strength, he had to find his old lover."

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

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

Dumbledore nodded and agreed without hesitation.

They searched the dilapidated mansion again, but many years had passed and the owner had changed. The things inside were almost all decorations from the past ten years, and any traces of the Riddle family had long been erased.

There was a small wooden house outside the mansion, and Harry and Dumbledore naturally did not miss it.

This shabby little house has more life than a mansion, but it has become dilapidated after accumulating dust for several months.

Who was the person who died on the second floor?

They both had the answer in their hearts.

But they did nothing but erased their traces, left the old house and returned to Little Hangleton. Dumbledore secretly cast a spell on a man, planting a hint in his mind, asking him to go to Riddle's old house in the next few days to find the corpse.

Ordinary policemen cannot be expected to solve cases involving wizards.

At least the body can be given a home and buried.

They continued driving towards Great Hangleton, the same place name, just the difference of "Big" and "Small", they were not far apart.

The hat drove obediently on the road, not very fast, only fifty miles per hour. It removed the protection of the spell and enjoyed the feeling of speeding.

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

Dumbledore didn't have time to reply.

Hat braked suddenly, almost throwing the two people out: "What did you say? That man has a child?"

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

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

"In the house, I found some traces of what might be a stroller or a cradle." Harry answered him expressionlessly.

"The child is innocent." Dumbledore sighed, "I missed out on Tom's education back then, and I cannot miss out on his child again."

Harry rubbed his cheek, "I'm not talking about the future, but now. Senior Tom doesn't look like someone who can have fatherly love."

"Could that child be the result of some trick he used?"

"Is there a similar spell in the dark arts?"

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

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

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

Dumbledore's expression became more serious: "Then we must find him faster."

The Sorting Hat steps up.

Amidst the blizzard, a dark arrow pierced towards Big Hangedon.

In less than half an hour, they arrived.