I became Voldemort

Few dared to approach him, though some initially intended to cause trouble. However, when they stood before Cyrus, they immediately lost the courage to draw their wands. Throughout it all, Cyrus never made any move to punish them.

Today, all the students held their breath, peering down from the high open balconies. Though they stood above, they seemed more like tiny beings gazing up in awe.

It was as if they were mere mortals bowing before a sacred being beneath towering mountains.

No one dared to breathe loudly, fearing that even the smallest sound might anger the deity.

Cyrus did indeed appear like a god.

"Good morning, ladies and gentlemen." He lifted his chin, his golden-red eyes scanning the faces of every wizard gathered there. "I assume most of you already know me—Cyrus—your new headmaster."

It was a simple introduction, with no unnecessary words.

Thousands of heads were bowed, listening to his words of wisdom.

"I'm not a fan of unnecessary chatter, so today I'll just take a moment of your time to announce one thing," Cyrus said, his gaze sweeping over the students, who nervously awaited his words.

They were all concerned that Cyrus might announce something difficult to accept, like adding hundreds of new school rules—rumors suggested that some headmasters did that to assert their authority.

But clearly, they were overthinking it.

Without any pretense, Cyrus raised his voice and said, "In a few months, I will be selecting a group of champions to accompany me to Britain, where we will participate in a selection tournament at Hogwarts."

This news stunned everyone into silence.

The previously quiet crowd suddenly grew restless. The young wizards whispered to each other in confusion, clearly unsure why Mr. Cyrus would make such a decision.

"Excuse me, did you say the Triwizard Tournament?" Fontaine, standing among the crowd, spoke up. He had obviously heard rumors that Dumbledore was planning to restart the tournament.

Historically, however, the Triwizard Tournament had little to do with Ilvermorny.

In fact, the tournament's history predates Ilvermorny—by the time Ilvermorny began to flourish, the Triwizard Tournament had already been discontinued for years.

"Yes," Cyrus confirmed with a nod.

Fontaine, aside from a bit of surprise, didn't have much of a reaction to the news. In fact, he considered it a good opportunity for academic exchange. Allowing Ilvermorny students to meet and compete with elite students from other international schools could be a valuable experience.

While Hogwarts hadn't ranked particularly high among the international schools in recent years, it was still a prestigious and historical institution.

Moreover, Durmstrang produced a dark wizard like Grindelwald, and Beauxbatons had a legendary figure like Nicolas Flamel, who made a name for himself in history.

The young wizards were incredibly excited—few could resist the allure of fame and recognition at such a young age. If the Triwizard Tournament expanded its scope, the rewards of victory would include not only glory but widespread prestige.

However, there was a deeper reason behind this decision.

This, Fontaine learned later.

"It's also the will of the Magical Congress. You've probably heard by now about the death of the first Dark Lord Grindelwald at the collapsed fortress of Nurmengard," Cyrus explained to the professors in a roundtable meeting.

Of course, this was merely a pretext. In truth, the Magical Congress hadn't planned to get involved in the matter; Cyrus had deliberately pushed for this in order to draw more international attention to the Triwizard Tournament.

His ultimate goal was to defeat Dumbledore in front of the world and declare his arrival on the global stage.

"And yes, they did recover his body," he added.

"But! You believe that body belongs to Grindelwald?" Cyrus glanced at them, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

He found it a bit hard to understand how, in a magical world, people could be so naive. If not for Bellatrix's reminder from within the Magical Congress, none of the key members had even considered this possibility.

"What do you mean?" one of the professors asked.

"Polyjuice Potion," Cyrus said plainly.

Suddenly, everyone in the room understood.

"Not long ago, Durmstrang appointed a new headmaster, named Vinda Rosier," Cyrus continued, looking toward the older Boot. Sure enough, the old wizard's face showed a look of surprise.

The others grasped the implication as well.

"If Grindelwald is still alive, he might very well accompany Durmstrang's delegation to Hogwarts. Perhaps he's still holding a grudge over being defeated by Dumbledore and plans to kill him in secret?" said a dark-skinned witch, her face filled with concern.

Her name was Yael Picquery, a descendant of Seraphina Picquery, who had once thwarted the Pureblood movement.

"Dumbledore and Grindelwald—two of the most powerful wizards in the world. If they meet, it could be incredibly dangerous!" she added, her face full of worry.

However, Cyrus smiled and corrected her.

"Not two, but three!"

...

"Actually, it's four!"

A sharp voice pierced through the darkness.

Barty Crouch Jr. was surrounded by dozens of people, his snake-like eyes suddenly snapping open.

"I'm pleased that it only took us three days to completely take over the French Ministry of Magic," said "Barty Crouch Jr." Of course, by now, it was more appropriate to call him Voldemort.

After the battle had ended, Voldemort's soul once again detached from his dead body. This time, he had no choice but to occupy the body of his most loyal follower, Barty Crouch Jr.

Afterward, he didn't choose to remain in Britain but headed to France.

This was a plan he had already devised while possessing the body of old Barty Crouch—he intended to make France his stronghold.

Truth be told, everything went smoothly. He and his followers took control of the French Ministry of Magic in just three days. Some officials were placed under the Imperius Curse, while many Death Eaters simply assumed new identities and infiltrated the Ministry from within.

Now, under his manipulation, the unusual headmistress of Beauxbatons had also stepped down.

This wasn't supposed to be easy, but Voldemort had immediately seen through Madame Maxime's secret. After all, he was familiar with another "friend" of similar stature.

However, the brief victory didn't bring him much joy.

In front of Voldemort lay a series of increasingly difficult challenges.

The most critical issue — he had now completely lost the means to resurrect himself.

The resurrection ritual involving the Horcruxes required blood, flesh, and bone. But now, he had forever lost the bones of his father. That night, Cyrus had burned Tom Riddle Sr.'s remains to ashes with a single fire.

Yet, Voldemort hadn't completely lost hope.

He had thought of another method for resurrection. It was risky, but worth attempting.

If successful, not only could he fully return, but he would come back even stronger than before!

"I warn you, until my return, all matters will be under Barty's command."

"Do not disappoint me again!"

________

12 Advance Chapters—http://Patreon.com/HornyFBI