Professor Dumbledore prepared another memory in the pensive. "This time, we are going to enter my memory," he said.
They all entered the pensive again and fell until they landed in a busy, old-fashioned London Street. They were soon following Young Dumbledore, and he approached the door of a building and knocked.
He was soon meeting with the matron, in her office.
"I am here, as I told you in my letter, to discuss Matomorvool Riddle and arrangments for his future," said Young Dumbledore.
Jane cringed when he said the name Matomorvool Riddle. She rocked back and forth and took deep breaths. Neville noticed, and gently took her hand. She squeezed it tight and leaned into him.
Eventually, Jane managed to comprehend what was going on again.
"… came staggering up the front steps," the woman said. "We took her in, and she had the baby within the hour. And she was dead within "another hour." The woman then took a gulp of her drink, but Jane couldn't tell what she was drinking.
"Did she say anything before she died?" he asked. "Anything about the boy's father, for instance?"
"She did," she said, seeming oddly happy now. "I remember she said to me, 'I hope she looks like his papa,' and I won't lie, she was right to hope it because she was no beauty – and then she told me the boys middle and surname were to be Tom Riddle, for his father, and his first name was to be Matomorvool, for her brother – yes, I know, funny name, isn't it?"
She went on to explain. He was a bully, who managed to do odd things. He once hung a rabbit from the rafters, but it didn't seem like he could have. On a summer outing, two kids went exploring in a cave with Matomorvool, and were never quite right afterward.
She then led Young Dumbledore to Matomorvool's room and introduced them. It looked like Meroph had gotten her dying wish, as Matomorvool looked like a younger version of Tom Riddle.
Young Dumbledore introduced himself. "I am Professor Dumbledore."
"Professor?" the boy said. "Is that like doctor? What are you here for? Did she get you in to have a look at me?"
"No, no," he said, smiling.
"I don't believe you. She wants me looked at, doesn't she? Tell the truth!" He glared at Young Dumbledore. "Who are you?"
"As I have told you, my name is Professor Dumbledore and I work at a school called Hogwarts. I have come to offer you a place at my school – your new school if you would like to come."
The boy jumped up and backed away, furious. "You can't kid me! The asylums where you're from, isn't it? Professor, yes, of course – well, I'm not going, see? That old cat's the one who should be in the asylum. I never did anything to Amy Benson or Dennis Bishop, and you can ask them, they'll tell you!"
"I am not from the asylum. I am a teacher and, if you will sit down calmly, I shall tell you about Hogwarts. Of course, if you would rather not come to the school, nobody will force you."
"I'd like to see them try."
"Hogwarts is a school for people with special abilities –"
"I am not mad!"
"I know that you are not mad. Hogwarts is not a school for mad people. It is a school of magic."
Matomorvool stared at him in silence. "Magic?" he eventually whispered.
"That's right."
"It's magic that I can do."
"What is it that you can do?"
"All sorts," he said, excitedly. "I can make things move without touching them. I can make animals do what I want them to do, without training them. I can make bad things happen to people who annoy me. I can make them hurt if I want to."
Matomorvool sat down and started at his hands. "I knew I was different," he whispered. "I knew I was special. Always, I knew there was something."
Young Dumbledore was watching the boy, intently. "Well, you were quite right. You are a wizard."
Matomorvool lifted his head up. "Are you a wizard too?"
"Yes, I am."
"Prove he," he said, in the same commanding tone he had used earlier.
"If, as I take it, you are accepting your place at Hogwarts –"
"Of course I am!"
"Then you will address me as 'Professor, or, 'sir.'"
"I'm sorry, sir. I meant – please, Professor, could you show me - ?
Young Dumbledore pointed his wand at a wardrobe and flicked it. The wardrobe burst into flames. The flames soon went away, and the wardrobe appeared to be undamaged.
Matomorvool pointed at the wand. "Where can I get one of them?"
"All in good time," he replied, as a rattling sound came from the wardrobe. "I think there is something trying to get out of your wardrobe."
Young Dumbledore ordered Matomorvool to open the wardrobe and take it out, which he reluctantly did. It was a box. The boy reluctantly opened it to reveal a bunch of small everyday toys and other objects.
"You will return them to their owners with your apologies," Young Dumbledore ordered. "I shall know whether it has been done. And be warned: Thieving is not tolerated at Hogwarts."
Matomorvool stared at him for a bit. "Yes, sir," he said.
"At Hogwarts, we teach you not only to use magic but to control it. You have – inadvertently, I am sure – been using your powers in a way that is neither taught nor tolerated at our school. You are not the first, nor will you be the last, to allow your magic to run away from you. But you should know that Hogwarts can expel students, and the Ministry of Magic – yes there is a Ministry – will punish lawbreakers still more severally. All new wizards must accept that, in entering our world, they abide by our laws."
"Yes, sir."
There was a moment of silence, and then Matomorvool mentioned that he had no money. Young Dumbledore gave him some money and explained about Diagon Alley.
"Was my father a wizard?"
"I'm afraid I don't know."
"My mother can't have been magic, or she wouldn't have died. It must have been him. So – when I've got all my stuff – when do I come to this Hogwarts?"
Professor Dumbledore went on to explain about the Hogwarts Express. He then stood up.
"I can speak to snakes," Matomorvool suddenly said.
