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Harry Potter and all of its characters belong to J.K. Rowling. I own nothing but the original characters I create.

“Dialogue”

‘Thoughts’

-Author notes-

Chapter 182: Riddle Manor

Space distorted as two robed figures appeared into existence out of nowhere.

Harry looked around the place. He had taken a small risk by Apparating to a place he had never been before. At least in the technical sense.

“Harry… are you sure it's here?...” Dumbledore frowned as he stared at the numerous graves surrounding them.

“It was the safest place to Apparate to. No one visits the cemetery at this late hour, and the house is close by,” Harry explained.

“I understand… well, I’ll let you lead the way then,” Dumbledore said to him.

It was already almost midnight on a Saturday when they agreed to make the trip to the Gaunt Manor.

“Yes, if I remember correctly, the house should be on that hill over… huh?” He kept staring at the distant hill, where the house should have been…but he saw nothing. “That’s strange…”

“Is there a problem?” The old man asked after seeing Harry’s confused expression.

“The house is not where it should be…” Harry muttered.

“Hmm… perhaps they built it somewhere else in this timeline. Perhaps we have put too much trust in the memories from your past.”

Harry looked around the cemetery, trying to find a specific statue. “I don’t think so…” He walked to it after finding what he was looking for.

“This is?” Dumbledore asked, unsure what made this grave special.

“Here lies Tom Riddle Senior… Voldemort’s Muggle father.”

“His father…” Dumbledore stared at the inscriptions on the stone. It wasn’t just him, but several members of the Riddle noble house had been buried here.

“If this is here, then… oh…” Harry spotted another large house on the opposite side. “Could it be that one? Maybe I got it wrong.”

“It’s worth taking a look, I suppose,” Dumbledore said.

The two of them walked to the house. It was very old and made of wood but was still holding strong by the looks of it.

“There should be no more members of the family left, but …” Harry started.

“It appears that someone has been maintaining this garden,” Dumbledore pointed his thoughts out loud.

“Should we knock?” Harry asked. His wand was already in his hand.

He was sure that Voldemort himself was not here. Even without his scar, he would be able to feel a wizard that powerful if he was this close. But some of his associates could be here...one never knew.

Dumbledore was also on guard, trying to spot any movement inside the house.

It was completely dark, and any light inside the house would have stood out, but magic allowed us to hide many things.

Both of them turned around when they heard someone approach.

“Hey, who goes there?!”

The voice sounded like it belonged to an elderly male, and it didn’t seem to have intentions of hiding his presence.

“Forgive us, good sir, for our late visit. Are you perhaps the owner of this house?” Dumbledore spoke first with his polite tone. His wand, however, was still firmly in his hand, ready to be used at any moment.

The man finally came into sight. An elderly man with humble clothing, carrying an old oil lamp in one hand and a rusted shotgun in the other.

“You are looking for the owner, at this hour?!. But if you mean the Riddles...you are too late...“ He got the lamp closer to them so he could see their faces better. “Who are you?”

“I am Professor Dumbledore, and this is my… grandson, Harry. We came indeed looking for the...ehm...Riddle family yes… if there is anyone left?.”

“Mmm, the Riddles…” The old man grumbled. “I don’t know what business you have with that family, but they have been gone for a very long time…”

“Do you know what happened to them?” Dumbledore asked, hoping to learn something new about Voldemort.

“Hmm…” The old man considered for a moment. He was not the talkative type, but he hadn’t talked with anyone in years now.

Harry glanced at Dumbledore and moved his eyes to his wand.

Dumbledore shook his head.

“Tsk…” Harry complained. It would have been quicker to just stun him and read his mind.

“I used to work for Lord Riddle as the caretaker… they hired me after I returned from the war. It feels like it was a lifetime ago,” the old man started talking. “One day, something terrible happened. The Lord went mad and killed his wife… I don’t know why it was. They seemed to get along, and then…”

“Were they the only ones living here?” asked Dumbledore.

“No, they had a boy... creepy little thing that was. It may sound wrong for me to say it, but it’s the truth. I always felt there was something wrong with that boy. After his parents' death… he was taken to an orphanage out of town. He never came back here to reclaim this house or its contents. I guess he is dead too by now.”

“I see… no one else has come to this house since then?” Dumbledore inquired.

“Yes. The house has been occupied by other families, but none have stayed for more than a year. They all said the same… there is something wrong in that house. The last family left ten years ago.” The old man stared at Dumbledore for a moment. “I hope you are not planning on buying this place… I'm telling you, that would be bad. Just let this damn house rot.”

“If you want this house to rot… why are you taking care of it?” It was Harry who asked.

“Ha! I am the caretaker. That’s what I do. But I only take care of the garden, nothing else…”

Harry was surprised to hear this. If the house itself was not being maintained, it should have crumbled away already.

‘There is definitely magic involved… but from who?’

He doubted Voldemort had any sentimental value for this place so it must have been something his mother did. She may have been a squib but she still came from an old wizard family.

“My good sir, rest assured as we have no intention of buying this place. We are very grateful for your help,” Dumbledore said.

‘But wait… wasn’t the ring found at the Gaunt manor?’ Harry realized that they had the wrong house. He was not that familiar with this place and both houses were very close to each other.

“Excuse me, sir, but… does the Gaunt Family sound familiar to you?”

The old man stared at Harry in shock.

“Now that’s another old name I haven’t heard in a while. Where did a young boy like you learn of that name?”

“Um… my… grandpa....” He glanced at Dumbledore. “And I, like to read about history and old English families.”

“Well, you are in no luck. That family is long gone too… and their house.”

“They have a house here… where?” Dumbledore asked.

“They used to… it was bigger than this one. The biggest house in the town...you could see it from here.” He pointed in the distance. “Right on that hill.”

“What happened to that house?” Dumbledore inquired.

“Well… I believe it was two years ago… it was burned.”

 

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