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that you had become headmaster," he said, and his voice was slightly higher and colder than it had been. "A worthy choice." "I am glad you approve," said Dumbledore, smiling. "May I offer you a drink." "That would be welcome," said Voldemort. "I have come a long way." Dumbledore stood and swept over to the cabinet where he now kept the Pensieve, but which then was full of bottles. Having handed Voldemort a goblet of wine and poured one for himself, he returned to the seat behind his desk. . "So, Tom ... to what do I owe the pleasure." Voldemort did not answer at once, but merely sipped his wine.
"They do not call me 'Tom' anymore," he said. "These days, 1 am known as —" "I know what you are known as," said Dumbledore, smiling, pleasantly. "But to me, I'm afraid, you will always be Tom Riddle. It is one of the irritating things about old teachers. I am afraid that they never quite forget their charges' youthful beginnings." He raised his glass as though toasting Voldemort, whose face remained expressionless.
Nevertheless, Harry felt the atmosphere in the room change subtly: Dumbledore's refusal to use Voldemort’s chosen name was a refusal to allow Voldemort to dictate the terms of the meeting, and Harry could tell that Voldemort took it as such.
"I am surprised you have remained here so long," said Voldemort after a short pause. "I always wondered why a wizard such as yourself never wished to leave school." "Well," said Dumbledore, still smiling, "to a wizard such as myself, there can be nothing more important than passing on ancient skills, helping hone young minds. If I remember correctly, you once saw the attraction of teaching too."
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