Silence filled the halls of Riddle Manor.
It was a heavy silence—thick with death, with memory… with legacy.
I stood alone in the drawing room, staring at nothing in particular, yet seeing far too much.
Not with my eyes.
With my mind.
Memories that did not belong to this world unfolded within me.
Stories.
Knowledge.
A future that had not yet come to pass.
A boy with green eyes.A prophecy.A war that would shake the entire wizarding world.
And at the center of it all—
Me.
Or rather…
What I would become.
I exhaled slowly, pressing my fingers against my temple.
"…Pathetic."
The word slipped out before I could stop it.
Not out of arrogance.
Out of clarity.
I walked slowly across the room, my footsteps echoing softly against polished wood.
"A charming, intelligent prodigy…" I murmured.
A student admired.
A genius feared.
A mind sharp enough to rival even Albus Dumbledore.
And yet—
My lips curled slightly in disgust.
"I turned into a paranoid, half-mad creature hiding behind a name."
Lord Voldemort.
The title felt… hollow.
Powerful, yes.
But flawed.
Deeply flawed.
I closed my eyes, diving deeper into the flood of knowledge from my past life—the books, the films, the analysis of everything that would one day unfold.
Patterns emerged quickly.
Mistakes.
So many mistakes.
"The Horcruxes…"
My voice was quieter now.
Colder.
More calculating.
"They weren't perfection…"
"They were decay."
I could feel it now that my soul had been repaired.
Before, the damage had been invisible to me—normalized.
Now?
It was obvious.
Each Horcrux had not only split my soul…
It had eroded me.
My sanity. My judgment. My restraint.
Even my magical potential.
"A weakened soul…"
I opened my eyes, a faint gleam of realization forming.
"…means weakened magic."
That was it.
The truth.
Magic was not just power.
It was self.
And I had shattered mine like a fool chasing crude immortality.
A slow smile spread across my face.
"Then I simply won't make that mistake again."
I turned slightly, my gaze drifting toward the ring on my finger.
The Resurrection Stone.
One Horcrux.
And the diary.
Two anchors.
"Two is enough."
The decision settled instantly.
No hesitation.
No doubt.
"With careful protection, I can ensure survival without sacrificing myself."
Unlike the future version of me…
I would not scatter my soul like fragments of garbage across the world.
I would remain whole.
Focused.
Superior.
Time passed quietly after that.
Days.
Then weeks.
I remained within the manor, watching… waiting.
The Ministry moved exactly as expected.
Predictable.
Slow.
Blind.
When they finally came for my uncle, I observed from a distance, hidden behind layers of magic.
Cold.
Detached.
Uninvolved.
"They see what they expect to see."
A soft scoff escaped me.
"Convenient."
With his arrest, everything fell into place.
The Riddle estate…
Became mine.
I stood at the gates of the manor once more, this time not as a visitor—
But as its master.
The building itself was grand, but aged. Neglected.
Unworthy.
"That can be fixed."
Magic surged at my command.
Controlled.
Precise.
Elegant.
Dust vanished in waves.
Cracks sealed themselves seamlessly.
Rotting wood restored to polished perfection.
Within hours, the manor was reborn—not just as a home…
But as a stronghold.
And then came the real work.
Protection.
Layers upon layers of it.
"Notice-Me-Not Charms."
"Anti-Muggle Wards."
"Detection Barriers."
"Blood-based restrictions."
Each spell was cast with deliberate care, reinforced with my enhanced magical power and sharpened perception.
Thanks to Merlin's magic sense, I didn't just cast magic—
I understood it.
Every ward interlocked perfectly, forming a living network of defense.
"No one enters without my permission."
I paused briefly, considering.
Then added more.
Because there was no such thing as enough.
Illusions.
Curse triggers.
Silent alarms.
Even subtle environmental manipulations that would disorient intruders long before they realized they were in danger.
By the time I was finished…
Riddle Manor no longer resembled a simple estate.
It was a fortress.
A hidden domain.
A place where even powerful wizards would hesitate to tread.
I stood in the center of it all, feeling the magic hum around me like a living entity.
Responsive.
Loyal.
Mine.
"This is how it should be."
Not reckless.
Not chaotic.
Controlled.
My gaze drifted toward the horizon.
Hogwarts awaited.
My return.
A faint smile touched my lips.
"There's still much to do."
Allies to gather.
Knowledge to acquire.
Power to refine.
And this time…
I wouldn't rush.
I wouldn't lose myself.
I would build something far greater than fear.
Far greater than legend.
"I will surpass him…"
I whispered softly, thinking of Albus Dumbledore.
"…and I will never fall."
The boy who would become a monster…
Was gone.
In his place stood something far more dangerous.
A Dark Lord who understood his own flaws.
And intended to correct them.