Salvador Dali Sleep painting

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The boy hesitated, then took it, and they shook hands. Dumbledore drew up the hard wooden chair beside Riddle, so that the pair of them looked rather like a hospital patient and visitor.
"I am Professor Dumbledore."
"'Professor'?" repeated Riddle. He looked wary. "Is that like 'doctor'? What are you here for? Did she get you in to have a look at me?"
He was pointing at the door through which Mrs. Cole had just left.
"No, no," said Dumbledore, smiling.
"I don't believe you," said Riddle. "She wants me looked at, doesn't she? Tell the truth!"
He spoke the last three words with a ringing force that was almost shocking. It was a command, and it sounded as though he had given it many times before. His eyes had widened and he was glaring at Dumbledore, who made no response except to continue smiling pleasantly. After a few seconds Riddle stopped glaring, though he looked, if anything, warier still.
"Who are you?"