(≧∇≦)ﾉHuge thanks to Tyler Betzwieser for becoming a new member!♥♥
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"Then what exactly are you here for? Don't tell me you barged in, knocked me down, just to inform me that I have a little bas— a nephew?"
Morfin struggled to his feet and sat on a battered old chair nearby, panting heavily, glaring viciously at the three standing before him.
"I only recently learned that my mother was a descendant of Slytherin, so I wanted to come and see for myself… to see what the descendants of Slytherin—the Gaunt family—are really like," Tom said, suppressing his fury and trying to keep his voice calm.
"Pfft…" Morfin sneered and spat on the floor.
"If that wench had even a shred of Slytherin pride, she wouldn't have gone and coupled with some filthy Muggle to produce you, you dirty Mudblood… That's a stain on Slytherin's bloodline! A disgrace!"
"Shut up, you bastard!" Tom snapped angrily. "You say she tainted Slytherin's bloodline? Betrayed the Slytherin name? Then what exactly are you doing now? What kind of useless scum ends up living like this?"
"If Slytherin could see one of his descendants living in a cesspit like this, do you think he'd call my mother the disgrace—or you lot, who've ruined his legacy?"
"Fallen into this pathetic state, and you still dare to call yourself a Slytherin heir? What right do you have to insult my mother?"
Morfin Gaunt's face instantly turned bright red, veins throbbing on his forehead.
"How dare you! Insult me like that! I am a noble descendant of Slytherin! I ended up like this because… because everyone else has fallen! They abandoned tradition! That's why the Gaunt family declined! Even like this, I've never strayed from the pure-blood traditions—what right do you have to judge me?!"
Tom's face was full of contempt and disgust, looking at Morfin as if he were a pile of dung.
"Tradition? What tradition? Hiding in your house, laying petty jinxes to mess with passing Muggles—that's your so-called Slytherin heritage? A fool is a fool, can't even admit his own incompetence? I honestly don't know how, when you die and your soul reaches the realm of the dead, you'll have the face to meet the great Salazar Slytherin!"
"Y-you… what did you say you little—?" Morfin was so furious his head seemed to steam, but he couldn't even get a proper retort out.
Tom's words were stabbing straight into his lungs.
"I said, you—and all the others who caused the decline of the Gaunt family—don't deserve to be called Slytherin's descendants."
Tom continued his verbal assault, slowly stepping forward. "...If I were you, a supposedly great and noble heir of Slytherin, and ended up in a state like this, I'd hang myself with a rope to end the shame—rather than stick around making a fool of myself."
"Hahaha~ Think about it. If a wizard from another pure-blood family passed by and saw what the 'noble' Slytherin line had become… what do you think they'd say? You maggots who've disgraced your ancestors, how do you even have the face to keep living?"
"And you even have the shameless audacity to call yourselves heirs of Slytherin?!! Pathetic! Do you deserve that title?"
Morfin Gaunt was seething with rage, but his wand was still in Dumbledore's hand. He wanted to rush over and strangle this filthy Mudblood, but he was too afraid of Dumbledore, who remained nearby, watching intently.
Burning with impotent fury, Morfin could only tremble, raising a shaky hand to point at Tom.
"You… you… how dare you say that… how dare you…"
Tom's gaze was drawn to the obsidian ring on Morfin Gaunt's finger.
Morfin was dressed in rags that weren't worth a single Knut, yet he wore a gemstone ring?
Taking advantage of Morfin's moment of blind rage, Tom casually reached out and plucked the ring right off his finger.
As he examined it, Tom's eyes lit up slightly.
Even Dumbledore, who had been standing to the side debating whether to intervene, had his attention caught by the ring.
To be precise, not the ring itself—but the obsidian stone set into it.
"What are you doing?! Give that back! That's the Gaunt family's ancestral ring!" Morfin shouted angrily, leaping up to snatch the ring back.
Tom didn't stop him. He simply sneered coldly and let Morfin snatch it away.
"Your family's ancestral ring?" Tom narrowed his eyes.
"This ring was passed down from the noble ancestors of the Gaunt family! It's our family heirloom! How dare you defile it?!"
"Heh… Did I defile this ring? No… I don't think so. I think letting this ring remain in your hands is the real disgrace. That is the true insult to the Gaunt family and the honor of being Slytherin's descendants!" Tom said darkly.
"You… what are you trying to do?" Morfin was stunned, thinking Tom was about to forcibly take the ring.
At that moment, he was without a wand—even though the boy standing in front of him was only eleven or twelve, he still felt panicked.
Ever since the Gaunt family had been reduced to just him, his magical ability had severely deteriorated…
Tom sneered coldly. "This ring now represents the honor of Slytherin's bloodline! Do you truly believe you deserve to possess it?"
"Of course I do! I am the purest heir of Slytherin! If I'm not worthy, then are you, a Mudblood, supposed to be?!" Morfin roared in fury.
"Words are meaningless. Let's duel!" Tom said, pulling a glove from his pocket and throwing it at Morfin.
Then he said coldly, "According to the oldest traditions of pure-blood families—duel! Don't you claim to respect tradition above all else? Then accept my challenge! Only the one left standing has the right to possess Slytherin's heirloom! Only the victor has the right to call himself a descendant of Slytherin!"
"eH…? what did you say?"
Tom's words stunned even the enraged Morfin for a moment.
And standing nearby, Dumbledore could no longer remain a passive observer.
"Tom…"
Dumbledore hadn't even finished speaking when Wade reached out and grabbed his arm.
"Professor… let Tom go through with it. Otherwise, this will stay stuck in his heart for the rest of his life…"
"But it's too dangerous. He doesn't need to—" Dumbledore said with a frown.
"Professor, this concerns the honor of my family! Please don't stop me," Tom said coldly. "The great Salazar Slytherin's heirloom can't remain in the hands of the unworthy. Professor… please don't interfere. Just bear witness to our duel."
After a long silence, Dumbledore sighed and handed Morfin's wand back to him.
He now fully understood what was going on in Tom's mind.
As a child who had grown up with no family and no support, Tom harbored a deep sense of inferiority.
And once he discovered that he was a descendant of Slytherin, that inferiority had slowly begun to fade.
But… after seeing what a so-called Slytherin heir had truly become… he was bitterly disappointed.
So now, he had to reclaim that identity—openly, and with pride.
And that ring—that relic of Slytherin—carried the weight of that once-glorious and noble identity.
So Tom had to take that ring back—from his uncle's hands!
If Dumbledore were to stop him… yes, he could protect Tom physically, keep him from being hurt—but what about his mind?
Though Tom might get injured, what Dumbledore feared even more was that Tom, who had been slowly changing for the better, would have his psyche twisted again...
Morfin snatched back his wand, a cruel grin appearing on his face.
"You filthy Mudblood… you actually dare challenge me to a duel? Heh… fine! Perfect! On one condition… this Dumbledore fellow doesn't interfere!"
His eyes were bloodshot.
This Mudblood dared insult the honor of a Slytherin heir like him?!
A duel? A duel was perfect! He'd been dying to crush this arrogant little bastard after all!
Just eleven or twelve years old, and already this cocky?
As long as that powerful adult wizard didn't step in, he was fully confident he could beat this little half-blood brat to death!
"He's here as a witness. He won't interfere. Since you've agreed to our wager, then come on… duel me," Tom said, gripping his wand tightly, eyes full of contempt as he looked at his uncle.
Of course, though he appeared scornful on the outside, the muscles in his arm were already tensed.
"Then let's go—outside! Don't want to wreck my house!"
Morfin grinned, revealing a mouthful of jagged yellow teeth, and strode out of the rundown shack.
The yard outside was overgrown with weeds.
Tom and Morfin stood facing each other, ankle-deep in knee-high grass.
Seeing the serious expression on Tom's face, Morfin let out a strange, wheezing laugh.
"Hehehe… Scared, are you, little bastard? If you're afraid—"
"I'll let you strike first," Tom interrupted coldly.
Hearing that, Morfin's face flushed purple-red with fury again.
Tom had said he'd give him the first move—and the look in his eyes when he said it was dripping with disdain!
It was the ultimate insult.
How much contempt did that show for him?!
"You'll regret this! Avada Ke—"
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