Chapter 158: Riddle's Parentage

"I never expected there would come a day when you would need my help. I am truly honored!" Riddle looked at Xiven with surprise, the corners of his mouth curling into a smile. "Tell me, what do you need me to do?"

"We are searching for someone, but she might have turned into a snake," Xiven said.

Hearing this, Riddle's expression darkened slightly, and he asked, "Was it Dumbledore who told you about my ability to speak with snakes?"

"Yes." Xiven nodded and said to Riddle, "Professor Dumbledore suddenly thought of you when he was at his wits' end, so he asked me to come to you for help."

"Yet I have heard that wizards in the magical world regard speaking with snakes as a trait of dark wizards," Riddle said softly. "After learning that I possess such a capability, will you also harbor prejudices against me?"

Upon hearing Riddle's words, Xiven cast a surprised look at him, and then instead burst into a smile.

For Riddle to ask such a question proved at least that, deep down, he was unwilling for Xiven to hold prejudices against him. It showed that Xiven's efforts over half a semester to build favorable impressions had not been in vain after all.

Now Riddle would occasionally display aspects of his true personality in front of Xiven, revealing a latent arrogance and indifference toward others, rather than the flawless elegance he displayed before everyone else.

"What are you smiling at?" Riddle frowned, demanding with dissatisfaction.

Xiven gently shook his head and retorted, "Do you know how Dumbledore described this ability of yours?"

"What did he say?" Riddle asked in a deep voice, his brows furrowing even tighter.

"Dumbledore said that what is problematic has never been a person's origin or bloodline, but rather that person's thoughts and character," Xiven smiled and told Riddle.

"He certainly is skilled at speaking such useless nonsense," Riddle muttered, slightly curling his lips, though his complexion visibly improved a good deal.

"So then, what do you think?" Afterward, Riddle looked at Xiven, asking seemingly offhandedly. "Or is it that you merely serve as a yes-man echoing Dumbledore?"

"I have never considered the ability to speak with snakes to make someone a dark wizard," Xiven smiled casually and said to Riddle. "Instead of suspecting you might become a dark wizard because of your innate talent, I would rather choose to believe you might become one because of this book!"

Xiven pointed to *Secrets of the Darkest Art* lying close at hand, looking at Riddle before him with a half-smile.

"You really know how to joke." Riddle's expression turned somewhat unnatural as he stiffly changed the subject. "So, how do you think I acquired the ability to speak with snakes?"

Xiven did not mind the shift in topic and casually replied, "It is likely due to your bloodline."

"I have been studying bloodline magic for some time and have learned about the rules governing the inheritance of bloodline abilities. Innate talents like yours are mostly passed down from the bloodlines of one's ancestors, which can also be considered a form of bloodline magic. Therefore, if you wish to understand your origins, you might as well start looking from the perspective of Parseltongue."

"Then do you know of anyone else who can also use Parseltongue?" Hearing that there was a possibility of understanding his origins, Riddle finally lost his previous composure, his tone trembling with excitement.

"That is not particularly difficult to find out; if you eat chocolate frogs, you might just see them on the cards," Xiven said. "There are two famous Parseltongues in history: one is the ancient Greek dark wizard, Herpo the Foul; and the other is the founder of Slytherin House, Salazar Slytherin!"

Riddle did not react much upon hearing Herpo's name, but when he heard the name Salazar Slytherin, he was thoroughly moved.

"So it is possible that the blood of Slytherin flows through my veins?" Riddle's voice raised involuntarily as he asked excitedly.

"Put that way, the possibility is indeed not zero!" Xiven thought for a moment, feeling a surge of extreme astonishment.

Among the two famous examples of Parseltongue users, Herpo was an ancient Greek wizard whose bloodline could hardly have been passed down for so long. Thus, the possibility of Riddle being his descendant could basically be ruled out.

As for the other famous Parseltongue user, Salazar Slytherin, he genuinely did have descendants in Britain! That lineage of Slytherin descendants was now listed among the Sacred Twenty-Eight as the Gaunt family.

As a member of the Sacred Twenty-Eight himself, Xiven from the Rozier family naturally had some understanding of the Gaunt family. According to Sandrine, not a single person in the Gaunt family was currently normal; given their eccentric and abnormal personalities, it was not entirely impossible that there might be some offspring left out in the world...

Realizing this possibility, Xiven cast a rather strange look at Riddle and told him, "You might want to research information on the Gaunt family; that family is descended from Slytherin."

"But my surname is Riddle," Riddle asked with some confusion.

"Well, do you suppose there's a possibility that your mother belonged to the Gaunt family, while your father was a Muggle?" Xiven reminded him, looking at the perplexed Riddle.

"So what you mean is that my mother, being a witch, died in childbirth right outside the gates of an orphanage?" Riddle asked in disbelief.

Having known since childhood that his mother passed away due to complications in childbirth, Riddle had always assumed his father was a wizard—that it was this wizard father who had abandoned his mother.

Consequently, while probing into his ancestry, Riddle had constantly focused his research around the surname Riddle, yet he had never found anything at all.

Today's words from Xiven completely forced him to face reality; the truth likely mirrored exactly what Xiven had described.

"Riddle, wizards are human too, and they encounter difficult times as well," Xiven patted his shoulder, speaking earnestly. "Perhaps your mother simply ran into some severe trouble back then?"

"Take right now, for instance—Dumbledore and the others have run into some trouble and urgently need your help." Xiven glanced at the hands of his pocket watch and quickened his pace as he spoke to Riddle. "Let's go quickly; we've wasted a bit too much time, and they might already be growing impatient."

With that, Xiven reached out and drew a circle in the air, causing a golden ring of light to illuminate around the two of them. Faint scents of a forest and the cries of birds and beasts drifted through from behind the portal.

"Wait!" Just as Xiven was about to step through the light ring toward Albania, Riddle called out to him from behind.

"Oh, aren't you coming to help?" Xiven turned back to look at him, asking with some surprise.

"No, I just suddenly thought of a question," Riddle hesitated and said softly.

Xiven turned back to look at him and casually asked, "If you have a question, just ask it. What are you hesitating for?"

Riddle took a deep breath, then gazed deeply at Xiven and asked, "If one day, I were to encounter severe trouble just like my mother did, would you be willing to help me?"

Hearing Riddle's question, Xiven silently pulled back the foot he had already stepped forward, turning around in surprise to look at him.

"Of course," Xiven said with a smile. "We are friends, aren't we?"

Riddle raised his head, a look of relief blooming at the corners of his mouth.

The evening sun finally sank below the horizon, dispersing the very last ray of sunlight. Within the dark Restricted Section, only a single golden ring of light emitted brilliance, casting the elongated shadows of Xiven and Riddle against the ancient walls of the library.

Amidst the shouts of the librarian driving away the lingering young wizards, the two shadows simultaneously took a step forward, vanishing together into the golden halo.

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