"Well then... shall we begin with a meal?"
Those were the first words spoken by Mirabelle after she had cast aside her humanity and reached the pinnacle of demonic power.
She flicked out her red tongue, licked her own fingers, and gave a bewitching look.
Her gaze was fixed on her own father, Heathcote.
She had decided that her very first 'meal' would be him.
Surely, the blood of a relative would 'assimilate' quite well.
"..."
Heathcote could say nothing; he was simply dumbstruck.
He couldn't believe what had just happened before his eyes. It was too far removed from reality.
And this magical power emanating from his own child? Did it not surpass even that of Dumbledore, which he had witnessed in the past?
All this time, he had thought of his daughter as a "vessel worthy of inheriting the Beresford name."
But he was wrong!
This girl was no mere vessel to be contained in the tiny frame of a successor to the Beresfords!
She was a being born to become something far greater, far more magnificent!
"Hah, hahahahaha! HAHAHAHAHAHA!
W-Wonderful! This is magnificent, Mirabelle!
To think you were capable of this... not even I, your father, could see the truth!"
With cold sweat pouring endlessly down his face, Heathcote laughed like a madman.
Mirabelle looked down on him, her expression unchanging, and slowly approached.
"Y-Yes, Mirabelle! You are the victor! You are the ruler!
No one else could possibly stop you!"
Reaching Heathcote, she grabbed his head and forced him to his feet.
She then brought her mouth to his neck and, without hesitation, plunged her fangs into his flesh.
In that instant, fresh blood spurted out, dyeing Mirabelle's face crimson.
"Hee, heeheeheeheehee! I... I was not the true victor...!
I couldn't get Malfoy convicted... I was inferior to Mad-Eye, not even the best of the Aurors...!
I simply accepted that I was inferior to Dumbledore...!
B-But you... you can truly win against them all!"
Gulp, gulp. With every movement of Mirabelle's pale throat, his life was drained away, and the color vanished from Heathcote's face.
His fingertips withered like dead branches and his cheeks hollowed, his body emaciating until he resembled a mummy.
But his eyes alone shone with the crazed light of madness as he continued to scream in a hoarse voice.
"Go... Go forth, Mirabelle... my daughter....
...You are... the strongest... of all...!"
Soon, the pathetic man, who was now nothing but skin and bones, stopped moving, and the light faded from his eyes.
Mirabelle tossed his corpse to the floor and sighed.
Holger quickly offered her a cloth, which she accepted to wipe the stains from her mouth.
A truly considerate and capable house-elf.
"'Always be the victor'... I will carry on your teachings, Father."
Paying a final respect to the corpse that had once been her father, she held a hand over it.
Then, she unleashed a silent burst of flame.
The lifeless remains were incinerated without a trace, erased from the world.
She had no more use for the man, nor any interest in him.
Keeping him in her sight would only be an eyesore.
"Now... Holger, that item."
"Yes, right here."
Having disposed of her father, Mirabelle turned her gaze to Holger and accepted the stone he offered.
It was a crimson, shining crystal of alchemy, the pinnacle of wisdom said to grant eternal life.
She had obtained a fragment of it back in her first year, stolen the recipe from Nicolas Flamel last year, and had now finally completed it.
Its name was the Philosopher's Stone, the ultimate substance that would grant Mirabelle even greater power and immortality.
"The immortality of a True Ancestor, plus the Philosopher's Stone... with these two... and one more form of immortality, I shall achieve a true immortality that no one in history has ever managed."
She lovingly caressed the stone in her hand and held it up before her face.
But it wasn't enough. Not yet.
This alone was one step short of true immortality.
No matter how close to immortal she was, 'death' itself still existed.
Therefore, she would be just as powerless before the Killing Curse, which deals death directly.
That was why Mirabelle had decided to employ a third method of immortality.
And for that purpose, she had killed Heathcote, who had nothing to do with the ritual.
—All to split her own soul.
"My Lady... surely, you don't intend to create a Horcrux!?
You mustn't! You yourself once said it! That it is a fool's method that weakens one's soul!" Quirrell cried out, having guessed Mirabelle's intention.
A Horcrux certainly granted powerful immortality.
But it was none other than Mirabelle who had said it would weaken the soul!
As her vassal, he could not permit her to go against her own words, captivated by the promise of immediate immortality!
But Mirabelle replied to Quirrell with a confident smile.
"Worry not, Quirrell. I will not harm a single hair on my own soul."
"Eh?"
"The soul I will split is that of the 'someone' parasitizing me."
"W-What in the world does that...?"
"I never told you... I have memories of a past life.
...No, until now, I had mistakenly believed it was a past life."
—Ever since she could remember, Mirabelle had possessed the memories of someone who was not her.
An observer who saw this world as a story called 'Harry Potter.' A boring Muggle from Japan.
Until recently, Mirabelle had considered that person to be her past self.
But something never quite sat right.
This woman had no ambition.
This woman had no aspirations.
This woman had nothing that was 'me' about her.
Is this really me? Is this pathetic thing the past life of Mirabelle?
Thinking that far, Mirabelle realized the truth.
That's right, she had the answer all along.
She had already understood it subconsciously.
Wasn't that why she had never thought of it as a past personality, but as someone she had trampled over and stolen memories from?
This... yes, 'this is not me.'
It was nothing more than a filthy parasite that had latched onto her, trying to overwrite her personality.
After several years, Mirabelle had finally arrived at the truth.
"Once I realized it, it was simply... unpleasant.
'Something' that was not me was touching my soul... clinging to it, refusing to let go.
And to think that I, of all people, had believed it was myself for so long."
The existence of the soul was already a well-known fact in the wizarding world.
And when a life is born, there are always two components: a body and a soul.
But in Mirabelle's case, an uninvited intruder had slipped in at the moment of her birth, attempting to overwrite the infant's personality.
In the end, it seemed Mirabelle's own powerful narcissism had overwritten and absorbed it instead, but she could not tolerate the impurity attached to her soul.
"I will no longer permit this thing to cling to my soul.
The Horcrux is merely a means to that end."
The immortality from the Horcrux was secondary. First, she had to sever this parasite.
With a hint of anger, Mirabelle used the sin of patricide to split her soul.
No—she would rip and tear the fool clinging to her away from herself!
A faint, ghost-like something emerged from her chest, letting out a terrified cry.
It was an ordinary-looking woman with black hair and a plain face.
A pitiful soul that had likely lived in constant fear of being discovered by Mirabelle.
Mirabelle seized it and, without mercy, shoved it into the Philosopher's Stone.
—'That' is where you belong.
She hated to admit it, but after years of assimilation, this soul had become something like a part of her own.
Then she would use it.
Remain trapped in there for all eternity, and become the sacrifice that sustains the life of Mirabelle!
Finally having purged the impurity from her soul, Mirabelle felt a sensation as if her body had become lighter.
Ah, I understand now... All this time, I was carrying a heavy burden.
From the day I was born until today, I had been living with weights attached to my entire body.
But now, I am free.
The power and aura that had been suppressed were overflowing, to the point that not even she herself could fathom their depths.
"But do not worry, my other half... As a special favor, I shall permit you to live inside this Mirabelle."
She would not let anything touch her soul.
But the body was an acceptable compromise.
So saying, she calmly put the stone in her mouth and swallowed it.
Of course, she did not send it down to her stomach.
She reformed and moved the tissues within her body, guiding it through her internal organs.
Manipulation of the flesh was what vampires excelled at. Guiding something that should have gone to the stomach to the heart instead was a simple matter.
She sent the stone to her heart and allowed it to assimilate, becoming one with the organ.
The Philosopher's Stone is the only substance capable of producing the Elixir of Life.
To merge it with her heart was to obtain a perpetual engine for the water of life.
All the blood sent from her heart would become the Elixir of Life, circulating throughout her body.
No matter what injuries she sustained, with the Philosopher's Stone capable of reconstructing her body from scratch, instant regeneration was a trivial feat.
Even if she lost her head, even if she were blown to smithereens, Mirabelle could no longer die.
She would endure with the immortality of a vampire, remain anchored by the Horcrux, and instantly resurrect with the power of the Philosopher's Stone.
The Horcrux that should be destructible, however, now resided within an immortal body, permitting no destruction.
The immortal body, protected by the Philosopher's Stone within, could never be destroyed.
Mirabelle had become a monster straight out of a nightmare.
"Heehee... It is complete.
Now, no one can ever kill me."
"Congratulations, My Lady."
"Mm. You two have also served me well and lent me your strength.
Without your devotion, even I would not have been able to carry this out so easily."
She offered words of gratitude to Quirrell and Holger, who were kneeling with their heads bowed.
She was confident that she could have done it all herself even without them.
But it was also a fact that their assistance had made things proceed this quickly and simply.
In that case, they deserved a reward.
"Quirinus Quirrell. I shall bestow a reward upon you."
"A reward, My Lady?"
"Yes. Your body, eroded by the unicorn's curse, must be nearing its limit.
I shall prepare a new body for you."
Quirrell's body was ravaged by a curse.
It was a side effect of what he had done under Voldemort's orders during her first year.
He had consumed unicorn blood solely to sustain Voldemort's life, and as a result, he had been cursed, left in a state no different from being dead while still alive.
"And my loyal servant, Mary. I shall grant you a new body as well.
Return from hell once more for my sake."
As she spoke, she held out her hands.
Two hearts were 'created' before Mirabelle. From them, blood vessels extended, and organs and bones took form.
One became a perfect body, identical to Quirrell's in every way... but with both arms intact.
The other became a new, beautiful female body for Mary.
Mirabelle poured Mary's soul into the completed female body, breathing life into her once more.
Normally, the resurrection of the dead is impossible, even with the Philosopher's Stone.
The stone can reconstruct a body, but it cannot anchor a soul to it.
"The dead do not return"—this was the absolute law laid down by God, a truth that must not be broken.
But the Mirabelle of now was a king of the dead, a rebel against God.
As if to say she cared nothing for the rules God had decided, she summoned a soul and created the living dead (an Undead).
But do not underestimate it as a mere Undead.
Its body, completely reconstructed by the Philosopher's Stone and no different from when it was alive, made the Undead almost indistinguishable from a living person.
"My Lady... that body..."
"Heehee, Mary is already aware.
It is a difficult mission, but she has watched over me since childhood. I have no doubt she will carry it out."
Mirabelle smiled, revealing her fangs, and traced a finger along Quirrell's neck.
Quirrell flinched for a moment but quickly calmed himself and closed his eyes.
This master did not fail. It was because of that conviction that he entrusted his body to her.
To answer that trust, Mirabelle sliced off Quirrell's head, destroying his old body.
She wouldn't make a clumsy mistake like causing him pain. Quirrell probably hadn't even realized he had died.
She then seized his soul and forcibly anchored it to the new body, just as one would seal a soul into a Horcrux.
The new body of the fallen Quirrell sat up and cautiously examined itself.
"It is done. How does the new body feel?"
"...I-Incredible... I feel as if I've been reborn....
My body is so light... as if I've been freed from chains.
I never even noticed it before, but now I understand... just how bound by the curse my old body was."
Liberation. If one were to describe the current Quirrell, that word would be the most fitting.
His body felt unbelievably light, without a hint of discomfort.
It felt even more natural than his previous body, moving exactly as he wished.
He hadn't felt anything when using his old body, but looking back now, he realized how sluggish its responses had been.
Compared to this new body, his old one was like a racing broom several generations out of date.
"Now then, we have a problem, Quirrell. By giving you a new body, my curse that bound you has also vanished.
You no longer have the blue nails. You could defy me now and not turn into an insect."
"...You have a cruel sense of humor, My Lady. You know full well that even without such a thing, I would no longer defy you."
Quirrell gave a wry smile and knelt before the eternal girl who was his master.
She was his master. His absolute master.
Even without a curse, if he were to defy her, not just his body but his very soul would surely shatter.
His soul, down to its last fragment, was already captivated by her. Imprisoned by her.
It was impossible for him to betray her now.
"However... it is painful to have lost the proof of my loyalty to you. Those blue nails were my pride.
I wish for a new token, one to replace my nails... my master."
"Very well. Then, Quirinus Quirrell, I ask you.
Do you have the resolve to become my fledgling and walk with me for eternity?
Do you have the resolve to walk the cursed path of night, forsaken by God?"
Quirrell nodded at her words and lowered his head.
It needn't be asked, it needn't be questioned.
That was his greatest desire. The wish he was meant to fulfill.
And so, without a trace of hesitation, Quirrell answered the question in a clear voice.
"My loyalty, eternally by your side."
As she watched her servant kiss the back of her hand, Mirabelle thought.
There's no turning back now.
I have completely strayed from the path of a human.
This is fine.
This is how it should be.
To unite the world, I need immense power and a near-eternal lifespan.
That is why I obtained this power and became strong.
I have completely cast aside the weakness of being human.
Yes, this is power. This is strength.
The weakness of humanity is something this Mirabelle has no need for.
Back then, if I had possessed this much power, I would not have had to lose it.
I am... no longer weak.
—That's not weakness... It's not weakness, Mirabelle...
The words Lettice had once said to her unexpectedly crossed her mind... and for a moment, she thought she saw her crying face.
***
Voldy and Harry at the Graveyard
Voldemort: "We must observe time-honored traditions.
You will bow, Potter."
Harry: "..."
Voldemort: "Come now, B-O-W! B-O-W!"
Harry: "..."
***
Author's Notes:
∩(・ω・)∩
And with that, Mirabelle has entered her triple-immortality mode.
It's just short of being an impossible game.
And the office lady who was thought to be her past life... while it was mentioned her personality was too different, she was, in fact, a completely different person.
It's like this: you know how there are original characters who possess a baby and overwrite their personality?
The office lady was one of those, but the baby she tried to possess, Mirabelle, ended up overwriting and absorbing her instead.
And Mirabelle, having realized this, has finally cast her aside.
In other words, the reincarnator setting and the personality that was so different from her "past life" were all a setup for this Horcrux plot point.
***
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