The snow fell thicker now, blanketing the wizarding world in silence as I stood at the gates of Black Manor. The ancient estate loomed like a shadow of history, its black stone walls pulsing faintly with residual magic. The enchantments woven into its structure were as old as the family itself — fierce, proud, and thoroughly steeped in darkness.
The wards recognized me immediately. A shimmer of green and silver swept over the iron gates before they opened with a quiet creak.
Inside, the manor exuded power — the kind of deep, oppressive magic that had accumulated through centuries of cunning and ambition. It was beautiful in a way. Darkness, refined through generations.
The Blacks were one of the few families that truly understood the value of knowledge — particularly the forbidden kind.
I spent my first days buried in their private library, its shelves lined from floor to ceiling with books so ancient their bindings seemed ready to crumble. Spells, rituals, blood magic, runic theory — entire sections that Hogwarts' library would never dare house.
With my eidetic memory, I needed only to glance through each page once. Every word, every rune, every wand motion engraved itself perfectly into my mind.
Days passed in silence, broken only by the turning of pages and the scratching of my quill as I organized my notes.
Most of the material was impressive but not unfamiliar — until I came across a tome that radiated raw intent. Its cover was charred black, the title written in silver: "Vereor Transitus" — The Spell of Piercing."
According to the Black family records, it had been created by Cassius Black, a dueling prodigy and one of their more… unhinged ancestors.
The spell was designed to pierce through any magical barrier — defensive shields, enchanted walls, even warded armor. No defensive magic could withstand it completely.
I tested it in the manor's training chamber, directing it at one of the family's practice barriers.
"Confringo Penetratus."
The moment I spoke the words, the air cracked. A narrow, silver beam lanced forward — pure precision condensed into a spear of destructive magic. The barrier shuddered, fractured, and then shattered like glass.
I smiled faintly.Cassius Black… you were a genius. But I am something far greater.
For weeks, I remained in the manor, cycling through its spells, perfecting my control, and practicing the Piercing Spell until I could cast it silently. The power of it thrilled me — an elegant, unstoppable force of destruction, refined to perfection.
When my time with the Blacks ended, I turned my attention to Malfoy Manor.
If the Blacks were obsessed with power, the Malfoys were devoted to perfection. Their vaults held an immense collection of magical theory — alchemy, potioncraft, enchantment — the refined artistry of wizardry.
Abraxas welcomed me like family, his father Lucien curious about my progress at Hogwarts. He didn't pry much — which was good.
Within days, I had devoured every potion manuscript they possessed. With Snape's potion talent flowing through me, even the most complex of brews became effortless.
But what truly caught my attention were the alchemical recipes — formulas for liquid magic enhancement, resilience elixirs, and mana amplification tonics. Most of these would be lost to history in the next century, banned by the Ministry for their "dangerous instability."
I memorized them all.
And then, as snow began to thin and the air softened, I left for my next destination.
Gringotts Wizarding Bank.
Deep beneath the bustling streets of Diagon Alley, I entered the vault I had inherited from the greatest wizard who ever lived — Merlin himself.
Even the goblins tread carefully here. The magic radiating from that ancient vault was… otherworldly.
The doors opened to reveal a room lit by blue fire. Rows of scrolls floated in the air, humming faintly with enchantments too complex for modern wizards to understand.
Each scroll I opened filled my mind with power — lost spells, forgotten arts, and magic from an age when wizards were closer to gods than men.
I found spells that twisted time, spells that could warp reality, and one particularly beautiful spell that manipulated pure mana essence — the foundation of all magic.
I studied until I could feel my mind hum with ancient power. The Eye of Insight burned faintly in response, adapting, expanding. My understanding of magic deepened beyond measure.
By the time I resurfaced from Gringotts, I could feel it — my magical core had grown exponentially stronger, denser, more refined.
As the Hogwarts Express carried me back to school at the end of the holidays, I sat quietly in my compartment, my reflection dark and thoughtful in the window.
I had grown stronger. Smarter.
The world was slowly opening its secrets to me — and I was devouring them whole.
I whispered softly to myself as the train chugged toward the castle, the faintest smile curving my lips.
"The world will remember the name Tom Marvolo Riddle — not as a boy…but as the beginning of something far greater."