The door suddenly opened.
"How could you know this name?" Hagrid asked, shocked, looking at the boy in front of him.
"Can we go in and talk?" Tom asked. "I think this might be a long conversation."
Hagrid finally let Tom into his hut. He poured himself a cup of tea but forgot to offer one to Tom, visibly shaken by the name, bringing back memories of a tragic event fifty years ago.
"Why are you asking about Riddle?" Hagrid asked again.
"I saw it in the school's trophy room. He won a special contribution award for the school," Tom explained. "Later I learned that the award was for preventing a severe incident, in which Moaning Myrtle was killed. I talked to Myrtle, and she mentioned you."
"Moaning Myrtle." Hagrid took a big gulp of tea from his cup. "Yes, yes, that was the girl's name. I'll never forget it."
"They said it was me, that Aragog killed her." Hagrid looked like he was about to cry, still feeling aggrieved even after fifty years.
"Aragog?" Tom asked.
"Aragog was a giant spider with eight eyes. I kept it in a box; it was so small back then, and it was very obedient, not dangerous at all, it wouldn't hurt anyone..."
"A giant spider?" Tom was stunned.
He had read about them in books. They were enormous spiders, larger than trucks, with intelligence, carnivorous diets, and extremely venomous.
Such a creature, not dangerous?
Considering Hagrid also kept a three-headed dog named Fluffy, Tom's understanding of what Hagrid considered "small" and "not dangerous" was thoroughly revised.
But the eyes of a giant spider are all black. What were those two large yellow eyes Myrtle spoke of?
"Did Tom Riddle find out you were keeping a giant spider?" Tom asked.
"Yes," Hagrid said sadly. "He mistakenly thought that was the monster that killed the girl. But it wasn't. Aragog would never harm a person!"
"What kind of person was Tom Riddle?" Tom couldn't help asking.
He wasn't particularly interested in what happened fifty years ago or how Moaning Myrtle died, just mildly curious. His real motive for pursuing this matter was Tom Riddle and the inexplicable familiarity he felt with the name.
Hagrid paused, not understanding why Tom was asking this.
"Tell me, Hagrid, it's important to me."
"You... why are you concerned about something from fifty years ago? Why ask about Tom Riddle? Tom..." Suddenly, Hagrid's eyes widened. "You're also named Tom... Do you have a connection to Riddle?"
"I don't know." Tom sighed.
"I grew up in an orphanage. They told me my parents were ordinary people, perhaps even Muggles."
"But this name... I don't know why, it feels very familiar to me, maybe... maybe..."
Hagrid understood.
Tom was just a child wanting to know his origins.
Hagrid had seen this feeling in Harry and had experienced it himself. Maybe that's why he felt a particular fondness for Harry.
"Riddle..." Hagrid thought for a moment. "He was very smart."
"He was in Slytherin, just like you," Hagrid said, glancing at Tom. "But you don't look much alike."
"Oh! Right, Riddle also grew up in an orphanage, just like you. He was a good student, very polite. Popular in Slytherin; everyone liked him." Hagrid sighed. "But he wrongly accused Aragog."
"That creature in the Chamber of Secrets... Aragog was very afraid of it, he even dared not speak its name. I asked many times... the creature that killed the girl was that monster..."
"But no one believed me."
"They said I opened the Chamber... But I didn't even know what a Heir of Slytherin was... I'm from Gryffindor, how could I open the Chamber..."
"The Chamber?" Tom looked puzzled. "What is that?"
"Legend says that Salazar Slytherin left a secret chamber in the castle, only his heir can open it..."
"But that's irrelevant to Riddle, let's get back to him."
"In any case, Tom Riddle was an excellent student, both in academics and behavior. After graduation, he seemed to go traveling... I don't know what happened to him after that... He was in Slytherin, we weren't very close."
"Your middle name is Tom... If you are really related, perhaps, he could be your grandfather..."
Fifty years, just about the time for two generations...
Tom felt a stir in his heart. It was indeed possible.
No wonder he felt a resonance with the name; perhaps Tom Riddle really was his grandfather. But then his descendants chose to stay in the Muggle world, maybe unaware of their heritage.
Riddle was in Slytherin, he grew up in an orphanage, so many similarities; perhaps it wasn't a coincidence.
More importantly, his unexplained familiarity with the name. Maybe it was the influence of the magic passed down to him?
...
At lunch the next day, the trio noticed Tom seemed in a good mood.
"Did you resolve the issue?" Hermione asked.
"Sort of," Tom replied. "By the way, did you find any clues about Nicolas Flamel, which Hagrid mentioned?"
"No," Hermione said, a bit disappointed. "I always feel like I've seen this name somewhere but can't remember where."
"Maybe we should tell the professors," Tom suggested. "Hagrid's right, we're meddling in things that aren't our business."
"No professor will believe us," Ron said. "Even Hagrid doesn't believe Snape is a bad guy."
Tom thought for a moment, then asked Harry, "Do you really want to get involved in this?"
"Snape is trying to kill me! He's up to no good; I have to stop him!"
Tom nodded. "Okay, then if we must do it, it's not impossible. The professors don't believe us because they think we're just kids and we have no evidence. But if we get evidence, they can't ignore this anymore."
"Evidence?" Harry's interest was piqued. "How do we do that?"
Tom pulled out his galleon, "Put this in Snape's office, maybe we'll hear his plans."
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