Just the same, because of having a mom, these instances of bullying ultimately just faded away.
In any case, watching the three leave after a round of verbal mockery, Tom remained silent for a moment.
Then, he turned and walked toward the orphanage's back garden, "I wonder if there are any left..." the boy muttered softly.
"Tom?"
But before he walked far, in the hallway, Little Tom ran into the person he least wanted to see at the moment.
He moved his lips, his voice was low, "Mother."
Tom's feelings toward Merope were very complex. Voldemort originally thought he had no worldly thoughts left, but this woman told him, no, you still have them—she was like a combination of all the words in the world used to describe a good mother: gentle, amiable, kind, her gaze always filled with love—
She would even appear every time he felt down, precisely when needed.
However, a woman with the surname Gaunt couldn't possibly have this personality.
Voldemort was entirely sure of this, even though he had never even met his mother. But in the "previous life," from the scattered clues he heard from his uncle, just a simple piece-together paints the image of a jealous woman whose magic ability was not prominent, with a repressed personality, even using an Enchantment Potion on her husband.
Why did it end up this way?
Voldemort didn't know, he couldn't even understand why he had feelings for her in the first place, but if he took these questions to ask William, perhaps he could get some answers. For example, the current "Merope" has nothing to do with the woman who died in sorrow in reality; this was an image of the perfect mother that Little Tom fantasized about during his childhood.
Although he probably had forgotten this point, William still unearthed "her" from the somewhat shattered memory palace of Voldemort.
At the same time, memory and feelings never deceive.
"Little Tom" had already regarded this woman as his mother—even if "Voldemort" did not acknowledge this.
...
The next day, when Tom woke up early, he became aware of a problem once again.
Looking at the man standing on the podium eloquently holding chalk, little Tom had a big question mark—how could he possibly not be dead?
Seeing the man's performance without any anomalies, Voldemort frowned, the stabbing pain at the back of his head began to intensify; this pain seemed to have been present ever since he had taken control of this body, constantly harassing him regardless of when he was eating, sleeping, or at any other time.
He had somewhat grown used to it.
Finally, the boy watched William being held up by other students, packed up his book, and dashed out of the classroom swiftly, sprinting along the corridor for a long time, standing before William's door, he looked around instinctively and upon seeing no one else, the boy pushed open the door—
Then, he saw a figure lying on the floor.
"Crack—"
William, in the corner, revealed himself, casually popping a popcorn into his mouth, the sound just now was emitted from his chewing of popcorn.
Ah, did something really go wrong?
William adjusted the red-blue 3D glasses on his nose.
Voldemort's "Resistance" was indeed beyond his expectations.
...
...
"Squeak—"
The old door produced a sound that made one's teeth ache. Looking at the decaying, outdated corridor revealed behind the door, Little Tom furrowed his brows tightly. He instinctively turned his head to look back, only to find that the corridor originally belonging to Wu's Orphanage was gone, replaced by a landscape of grayish-black tone grassland.
Sullen clouds floated in the dark purple sky, and the pitch-black forest in the distance appeared sinisterly twisted and menacing.
Is this... the Gaunt's old house?
Voldemort recognized this place; the next moment, the persistent headache at the back of his head since his "rebirth" surged forcefully. Voldemort only felt his temples beginning to swell, the intense pain causing him to instinctively clutch his head, and the scene before his eyes began to change rapidly—
Gaunt's old house, Hogwarts, Slytherin's Chamber of Secret, Borgin and Burkes Shop...
Numerous, countless familiar scenes began switching rapidly before the boy's eyes. Voldemort couldn't help but let out a painful low growl—finally, the pain began to subside, Voldemort shook his head, the heavy feeling made him instinctively dazed. Then, he was astounded to find that his perspective seemed to have lowered quite a bit—
"Hiss..."
A low Parseltongue slipped from his mouth; Voldemort instinctively reached out, but found there wasn't a hand on his body.
"Bang—"
The wooden door hit against the wall, producing a dull sound, dust fell in wisps, Voldemort instinctively looked up, and then he saw himself—the eight-year-old self, the boy's face wore a ferocious expression, Voldemort instinctively wanted to approach to figure out the situation, but saw Little Tom swing his hand vigorously—
An invisible force directly threw him onto the wall.
Flipping the poisonous snake pouncing towards him, Little Tom rushed to the woman's corpse next to him.
Only at this moment did Voldemort finally realize that the spot he had just tread was right on his mother, Merope's body. At this time, the woman's face no longer held that gentle smile, her face was deathly pale, her wrist drooping to one side had a pair of teeth marks, faintly purple.
"..."
Then what am I? Voldemort instinctively turned his head but saw in the nearby floor mirror a triangular brown head staring back at him.
He had transformed into the viper from yesterday.