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Chapter 305: Rage

(Voldemort POV)

Things had not been going my way ever since that night so long ago when I tried to subvert that damned prophecy by killing it's candidate. The parents were easy to dispatch since my arrival had caught them off guard. The father had lacked his wand entirely but resorted to physical means to try and fend me off , an admirable display of courage but ultimately futile. And the mother , a curse upon her soul , shielded her child her own body and every once of her magic responded. I was so caught up in my inevitable victory that I didn't even notice the ancient magic activating.-

I cast the killing curse on the child and fell into the trap. Pain wracked my very soul and my body shriveled and decayed as my immortality fought against the magical death that would have been apportioned me without it. I barely managed to hide away my wand in the room before my body was destroyed and I was reduced to a pitiful and pathetic wraithlike state. I fled to the forests of Albania for nearly ten whole years building my strength from the vermin and wretched creatures there until Quirrell found me.-

He willingly allowed me to reside within his body in exchange for knowledge on how to grow more powerful. An acceptable price to pay in order to steal the philosophers stone and recreate a body truly suitable for me to reside in. You might be able to imagine my anger to learn that the child prophesied to strike me down was barely above average in academics. Me , an archmage laid low by a average individual. The boys friend however was very much a different story as he was so talented that I was slightly envious.-

Creating his own enchantment method before even getting into the school , mastering spells with little effort and an innate talent in transfiguration on the same level as a metamorphagus. Sadly I never got the option to dispose of or persuade the boy as he avoided me surprisingly easily. That was before that old fool revealed the boys heritage to the world and I knew without any doubt that the child needed to be dealt with the moment I got a new body. The last know descendant of Rowena Ravenclaw and by extension the lord of the house. As a descendant of Slytherin myself I of all people knew the power that such a bloodline granted.-

In the hands of a talented and clearly ambitious person like the boy who was willing to work hard to excavate his full potential reaching my level was almost a guarantee and I simply couldn't allow that. Alas things went horribly awry when the Potter boy confronted me while I was trying to figure out how to retrieve the stone from that blasted mirror. During that confrontation I felt the defenses I placed around the diadem get triggered and knew that I had been manipulated.-

The Ravenclaw brat had not gotten anywhere near the diadem whilst I was disguised as Quirrell so I had assumed incorrectly that the grey lady hadn't informed him of the artifact housing a piece of my soul. In truth the brat had lulled me into a false sense of security before making his move whilst I was busy dealing with the Potter boy. In my moment of distraction the Potter child shattered the stone ruining any chance of using it's power for my own resurrection. When I went to strangle the child in my rage I discovered that the boy's mother had placed protective magic on him that made it impossible for me to touch a hair on his head.-

Quirrell's body which was on the brink of collapse hit the final straw at that moment and finally fell apart forcing me back into that wretched wraith like state. I could only once again flee to the Albanian forests to bide my time while the Ravenclaw brat no doubt rapidly accumulated power. Fortune finally smiled upon me however when a strange individual arrived in the forests and swore themselves to me for vengeance against something that brat had done.-

It was less than ideal but I agreed to the creation of a ritual to create a rudimentary body for myself until I could perform another to gain a perfect vessel for my massive magic. It was rather ironic how while the failure of a dark lord Grindelwald was conducting sacrifices himself for some reason I was using that the collect the sacrifices for my return. We held the ritual and I finally had a body of my own and immediately sought to learn all that had happened in my absence. It displeased me greatly to learn that Black had been released and Pettigrew executed. But it was only over the next few days that I felt rage burn inside me as I checked the hiding place of each of my horcruxes only to find them gone , taken.


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