Chapter 25 Appointment
"You're here," Dumbledore, who was sitting at the table, said kindly, holding a pile of candies in his somewhat skinny hands, "Would you like a lemon Sherbet?"
Della raised her right eye and took the candy from his hand very naturally. She looked at the bright yellow candy, then tilted her head to ask Dumbledore, "Will it be sour?"
"I think this is a very delicious candy." Dumbledore observed Della's expression and still smiled kindly.
Hearing this, Della peeled off the candy wrapper and put the candy into her mouth. The sour taste immediately rushed into her mouth and her saliva kept secreting.
Della's face changed slightly. She tried her best not to let her expression be too distorted. Fortunately, it was followed by a very gentle sweetness. After making sure that there was no excessive saliva in her mouth, Della puffed her lips and spoke.
"Your taste is really unusual."
"Not many people would accept my candy like this," Dumbledore laughed. He looked at Della, who looked expressionless, and said slowly, "You are really different in front of me, Della."
"It can't be helped, Principal. After all, you know what kind of person I am." Della shrugged, with a slight smile on her lips. "It seems that I was too careless at that time. I am very sorry to make you laugh, Principal."
"Don't you think I will tell anyone?" Dumbledore leaned forward slightly and looked at Della with sharp eyes.
"Looking at the weight of those two bags of gold galleons, I think you are taking good care of me, Headmaster."
Della responded calmly to Dumbledore's inquiring gaze, and her tone of voice was a little lower than usual, seeming a lot more casual.
"You are such a smart girl."
Dumbledore laughed, took out a key from the drawer and placed it on the table in front of Della.
"This time, Parkinson, Bulstrode, and the Greengrass family gave you a lot of compensation in order to prevent their children from dropping out of school. I deposited it in Gringotts for you. Here is the key with a number on it."
"Are there a lot?" Della picked up the small key and looked at it. She remembered the Gringotts that she had seen in Diagon Alley.
"So much that you don't have to worry about your expenses at Hogwarts anymore." Dumbledore winked at Della and lowered his voice to pretend to be mysterious. "After all, the Malfoy family also made a lot of money, and his share is the biggest part."
"I don't think the Malfoy family would be willing to let their youngest son endure such malice." Della sneered, "Thank you so much, Headmaster."
"You really act like a little adult in front of me." Dumbledore felt a little emotional as he looked at Della who was not disguising herself at all.
"After all, there is no need, my dear Headmaster Dumbledore." Putting the key into her robe, Della pretended to give Dumbledore a well-behaved smile.
Dumbledore smiled helplessly, and after a while he spoke, "I noticed that there seems to be no rumor that you can speak snake language. Are you deliberately hiding this?"
"Being sorted into Slytherin and being classmates with a bunch of pure-bloods is bad enough. I don't think I can reveal that scary trait," Della paused and looked at Dumbledore's narrowed eyes. "I'm afraid someone will react as strongly as Mr. Ollivander."
Dumbledore did not reply, he just responded to Della's gaze. The two of them just stared at each other, and the atmosphere became stagnant for a moment.
After a long period of no response, Della smiled and said, "It's okay, Principal. I think one day you will let me know the reason."
"You are really a very clever girl." Dumbledore stopped smiling as he looked at the girl in front of him whose expression was highly identical to that of the previous Riddle.
"Perhaps I would be happier if you praised me for being a typical Slytherin," Della winked at Dumbledore. "If you have nothing else to do, please allow me to go first. I have an appointment with my friends."
"Pay attention to the curfew." Dumbledore returned to his original mischievous appearance and warned with a smile.
"You're a Gryffindor, I think you'll understand us."
Dumbledore's chuckle came from behind her. Della slowly closed the door, raised her head and glanced at the quaint wooden door, pouted her lips, and walked away.
That night, Della read the book "The Origin of Black Magic" and experimented with a spider in a glass jar that Quirrell had kindly provided.
At noon on Thursday, Parkinson and the others showed up at the Slytherin table timidly. Although Della didn't feel anything about their presence, she still symbolically moved closer to senior Aryan.
Arlian, who had been watching Maggie eat, also used one hand to soothe Della's soft long hair. She looked coldly at the three first-year students who hurt Maggie, and wondered when to have a talk with them.
Of course, as a prefect.
After all, they almost deducted all of Slytherin's points and hurt Maggie. Moreover, although they were among the so-called 28 pure-blood saints, their families were not as powerful as the Malfoys.
By the way, after that incident, Maggie became very close to Aryan, and Della felt that this senior wanted to spend every day with Maggie.
In short, this is another person who was deceived by Maggie's cleverness.
From this perspective, there doesn't seem to be much difference between me and Maggie.
It's a pity that the fangs will always show.
After Potions class that afternoon, Della received some instruction in Professor Snape's dark, herb-scented office.
The smell there felt as bitter as the professor's, but Della didn't hate the smell. Just as she enjoyed the process of making potions, she liked the smell of these potions in a sense.
In less than half an hour of instruction in this office, Della received 20 extra points. Even though she had expected the professor's bias, Della still felt it was quite subtle.
After leaving the office, Della went straight back to the dormitory, and Maggie was left to senior Alian at noon.
She opened the half-read book "The Origin of Black Magic" and continued to read it attentively. The spider in the glass jar next to her was already dying, with only a few legs twitching occasionally.
When seeing this half-dead spider, Quirrell couldn't help but glance at the harmless girl in front of him. How could an eleven-year-old child torture a living being so rudely? Should this be said to be the power of blood?
Voldemort was simply proud of Della's talent in the dark arts. He was proud of his excellent bloodline, of course, his wizarding bloodline.
He had long since abandoned his original Muggle surname, and had been living in fear as Voldemort for so long that he could already ignore his half-Muggle blood.
In fact, not many people knew his original name, and he had no impression of the young woman knowing this. Although he never delved into it, Voldemort was still curious about Della Riddle's last name.
No matter what, the girl in front of him undoubtedly inherited the abilities of the Gaunt family as well as his own looks and intelligence, which couldn't help but make him feel happy, so he gave her guidance without hesitation.
As a father, Voldemort never gets any recognition in Della's heart, but as a teacher, Della cannot deny his excellence.
Ignoring his frivolous and terrifying face and the undisguised arrogance in his tone, he was indeed quite knowledgeable and could always give Della the right guidance, and sometimes even create more advanced spells.
"The Origin of Dark Magic" basically contains some dark magic that harms the body, but after one hour of Voldemort's guidance, Della can make a living spider corroded by acid pulp and eventually turn into dust.
Shaking the black sand in the glass bottle, Della could probably understand why black magic was so resisted. It was very harmful and not pretty.
It's dark and gloomy, and doesn't look like a good thing.
“My dear child, your talent really makes me happy.” After seeing the effect of the spell Della cast under his guidance, Voldemort laughed. After the laugh, his voice became low. “I know that you seem to have a good relationship with those stupid kids in Gryffindor, especially…”
Harry Potter.
Della added this in her heart, her expression unchanged, as she continued to look at Voldemort with that familiar smile.
"Yes, my dear father, I have a good relationship with the students in Gryffindor. As you know, in Slytherin, I am still a Muggle-born."
"So you like your group of friends very much?"
Although it was difficult to read much expression on his frail face, Della could still sense a hint of scrutiny.
"Do you like it..." Della showed a hesitant look on her face. She seemed to be entangled for a while before she slowly spoke, "Not really, father, you should know that I am not sincere."
"Of course, if you have any instructions, I will cooperate."
Looking at Voldemort's slightly narrowed eyes, Della quickly added.
"Very well, my dear child, let us call it a day."
"Okay, goodbye, my dear father, goodbye, Professor Quirrell."
Della said this, lowered her head slightly, and walked out of the Room of Requirement in a humble and well-behaved manner.