Hogwarts: I am Voldemort

December 31, 1926.

Riddle House.

"Melope Goon...boom...hard...boom...you can..."

His ears were filled with roaring sounds, and a few words came from time to time, making Voldemort confused about his environment.

Merope Gunn…

If he could make up for it completely, it would be Merope Gaunt.

Use force...you can...

It felt like words of encouragement from a pregnant woman, and if he was reading the memory in his brain, it would be normal to start from scratch.

But why his mother?

Waiting quietly in confusion, he was born successfully not long after.

Sure enough, just like the memory of reading the Horcrux before, he couldn't control the body's thoughts, but he could feel everything about it.

Thoughts, memories, even physical pain, are okay.

But these are not what Voldemort cares about. He wants to understand why this memory in his brain is his own.

The answer to this question came shortly after he was born.

It's him, but it's not him either.

He looked at the middle-aged man who looked somewhat similar to himself, hugging himself with joy.

Voldemort knew that this was definitely not his past.

In this memory, Tom Riddle, the Muggle with the same name as him, did not abandon his mother, Merope Gaunt.

In other words, he is living in Liddelburg, living a happy life with a family of three and two parents.

This made Voldemort confused, but it was not unacceptable.

At least at this moment, his speculation about this memory was a test, or a way to protect his memory.

But as time passed, Voldemort's understanding began to be subverted.

This world is really too detailed, including how Merope Gaunt concealed the fact that she was a witch in her life, including how Merope Gaunt suppressed her magic and went berserk.

In short, all the details are so real and impeccable.

He lived like this until he was eleven years old, when the owl came and he was about to start his life at Hogwarts.

Before that, he met Dumbledore, the Dumbledore he was familiar with.

"In view of your situation, little Tom, I am obliged to come myself."

In the spacious living room of Riddle House, Dumbledore said something to little Tom, and then looked at Tom Riddle who looked puzzled.

Little Tom's father was looking at this indescribably weird man in front of him with a puzzled expression.

His heart was full of doubts, because the man in front of him wanted his lovely child to go to a special school.

Damn, my kids are not special.

And when he turned his eyes for help to his beloved wife, he found that her wife was looking at the stranger in front of him with fear in her eyes.

"Merope, what's wrong with you?" Tom Riddle asked.

"I...I'm fine, Tom, I just...it's just that I haven't seen Mr. Dumbledore for a long time. We knew each other before."

Merope Gaunt stuttered, looking at Dumbledore with fearful eyes and pleading.

She didn't dare to expect that Dumbledore wouldn't notice that her husband had been drugged with a love potion, and she didn't dare to expect that Dumbledore would help her hide it all.

But she hoped that the other party would not expose her immediately. She wanted a farewell.

However, to her surprise, Dumbledore didn't seem to notice that she was using the love potion and only talked about little Tom going to school.

It was not until Dumbledore was sent away that he vaguely reminded Merope Gaunt to appropriately reduce the dosage of the medicine to avoid mental problems caused by overdosing. Merope Gaunt realized that the other party had already seen through everything, but he had not revealed it. That’s all.

Merope Gaunt expressed her gratitude to Dumbledore, but in the eyes of Voldemort hiding in little Tom, this was Dumbledore.

He has never been a person who abides by rules. He is well-meaning but not a bad person.

Especially when it comes to love, he always seems crazy enough.

The incident ended here, and little Tom boarded the Hogwarts Express and headed for the life he longed for.

College life is still happy, although at the beginning, there were some conflicts due to his Muggle family.

But no matter which Riddle it is, it can solve the problem well.

In the process, Voldemort also came up with a conjecture that frightened him:

This is a real memory, but it comes from a parallel world.

If this is the case, then the brain he holds in his hand should be this Riddle's brain.

This thought filled Voldemort with terror, not because Death had killed one of him, but because there were countless brains in the water tank.

If this conjecture is true, then the person killed by the God of Death is not himself.

"The end will come when memory ends, which won't be long."

Voldemort suppressed the fear in his heart and waited quietly.

Time passed quickly in my memory, and in the blink of an eye, little Tom had graduated. He did not enter Diagon Alley to work like Voldemort in the world, but chose a decent Muggle job.

This was based on a request from his wealthy father.

"Treat magic as a hobby, kid. There is nothing more important than money, including titles."

Tom Riddle educated his son in this way, and little Tom was also very obedient.

He managed the ancestral property and made the Riddle family richer and richer by relying on some magical means that were not glorious.

When there is more money, it becomes less important.

People who have pursuits in their hearts will abandon business affairs and pursue their own ideals.

Riddle obviously has his ideals, such as immortality.

So he began to frequently visit places such as the Black Forest to collect enough precious materials to make the elixir of life.

Ten years passed like this. On an ordinary day, he entered the black forest as usual, and then saw a figure floating in the air.

Flying spell?

No, Voldemort knew it wasn't the first time he saw the flying posture.

Before he could see the man's face clearly, a green light flashed and the whole world came to an abrupt halt.

"Whirring whirring……"

Voldemort gasped violently and looked at the brain in his hand with horror.

He was 100% sure that this brain belonged to himself in another parallel world.

"Damn Death, how dare he..."

Voldemort turned to look at the dark green water tank. The countless brains floating in it gave Voldemort a chill.

Who would kill himself in the parallel world, take out his brain, and keep it together?

"I have joined the Silent People, right, Sir?" Voldemort looked back at Sir Gamp and asked.

"Yes, Your Majesty." Sir Gamp responded quickly.

"Then I want to know, how does Death prove that he is Death?" Voldemort asked.

"Then..." Gamp hesitated for a moment, "We need to get a brain and put it in the water tank without being rejected."

"Aren't you rejected?"

Voldemort murmured with a cold face, already determined in his heart that these brains must be the brains of Riddle in the parallel world.

Just put them here and do what?