Voldemort returns and is intent on revenge, preventing the prophecy from coming true and ensuring his reign over the wizarding world. But everything changes when he realizes the girl who lived, his ultimate nemesis...is actually a Horcrux...
Voldemo...
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The next evening, in another part of the dimly lit cellar of Malfoy Manor, where shadows clung to the walls like ancient secrets, Voldemort began his clandestine tutelage. Hadria sat across from him, her eyes wide with curiosity and a hint of trepidation. The air crackled with anticipation, for this was no ordinary lesson...it was an initiation into the heart of darkness.
"Remember, my dear," he began, his voice a low murmur that echoed through the stone walls, "dark magic is not inherently evil. It is merely a force...an ancient current that flows through the veins of our world. Centuries ago, before even I, the Dark Lord, was a whisper in the imagination of any child's darkest dreams, there was only magic."
His fingers traced invisible sigils in the air, invoking memories long buried. Hadria leaned forward, drawn into his words like a moth to forbidden flame.
"Not light, not dark," he continued, his eyes gleaming with knowledge. "Not good nor evil...just magic. A primal energy that defies labels, that transcends morality. It is the witch or wizard who wields it...their intent, their purpose...that shapes its essence."
Hadria's mind raced. She had always been drawn to the enigma of magic...the way it danced on the edge of reason, the way it whispered secrets in forgotten tongues. But this...this was different. This was the underbelly of existence, the hidden tapestry that bound reality together.
Voldemort leaned closer, his breath brushing against her skin. "Dark magic," he said, "is the raw power of creation and destruction. It is the storm that births galaxies and devours stars. It is the echo of forgotten gods, the pulse of forgotten wars."
She shivered, torn between fear and fascination. His touch was both ice and fire...a paradox she couldn't unravel.
"Balance," he murmured, as if revealing a cosmic truth. "That is the key. Light and dark, life and death...they are two sides of the same coin. To wield dark magic is to dance on the precipice, to court chaos and order in equal measure."
Hadria nodded, her mind spinning. She had glimpsed the abyss, and it had looked back at her with ancient eyes.
"Your will," Voldemort said, "will be your compass. Your desire, your North Star. Remember this, my sweet Hadria: Magic bows to no master. It is wild, untamed, and it cares not for our mortal definitions...we can only guide it...we do not create magic itself...it's already exists all around us...it always has."
He stood, robes billowing like wings of night. "Now," he said, "we begin."
