I became Voldemort

Grindelwald woke from the dream.

One eye still glowed silver in the darkness, like a moon.

He immediately realized this wasn't a simple nightmare but a prophecy.

Only…

"Cyrus is going to kill Dumbledore?" he found it hard to believe.

Grindelwald had indeed foreseen a battle between Cyrus and Dumbledore—it was inevitable. But he'd never thought it would come to the point of life or death between them.

Was it truly necessary to go that far?

A sudden emptiness hollowed his heart, as though he were plummeting into an endless abyss.

Looking through the cabin window into the black depths of the lake, he saw the ship swaying restlessly in the waves, reflecting his own growing unease.

As a prophet, he knew well that a true prophecy was nearly impossible to alter. Often, everything you did to prevent it only hastened its realization.

Just like Voldemort, who handpicked an enemy destined to defeat him.

Over fifty years ago, when Grindelwald witnessed the destructive power of nuclear weapons, he hadn't considered trying to prevent that terrifying weapon's creation, knowing it would be futile.

But now the moment he foresaw Dumbledore's death, Grindelwald was resolute in his determination to take action, even if it meant paying with his life!

Now he sat silently in his cabin chair. The entire room was damp and stiflingly hot, yet he paid no mind. Grindelwald was completely absorbed in his own thoughts.

Just then, there was a knock on the door.

"Mr. Grindelwald." It was Vinda's voice.

"There is someone here to see you."

Grindelwald opened the door, and there stood Vinda, looking a bit smaller than he remembered from the distant past. Behind her emerged a man in a suit.

"Hello, Mr. Grindelwald," Barty Crouch Jr. licked his lips, "Barty Crouch Jr., here to seek a collaboration with you on behalf of the Dark Lord!"

...

After the first task ended, everything seemed to return to normal.

Hogwarts was once again bustling with noise, though the weather was growing colder. And with this year's Quidditch matches canceled, fewer people gathered on the grounds.

In early December, Hogwarts had its first snowfall.

The surface of the Black Lake had also begun to freeze, though the ice was still thin. In a little while, it would be solid enough to skate on. Around this time, Professor McGonagall announced one of the traditions of the Triwizard Tournament.

—The Yule Ball.

"A Christmas Ball?" Fischer was taken aback, then cast a glance at Cassandra, who was sitting alone.

However, Cassandra kept her gaze fixed on Cyrus without turning her head. Fischer reluctantly looked away.

"It's one of the tournament's traditions. During the Christmas holidays, fourth-year students and above are to stay and participate in the ball, while first, second, and third years are not allowed. Of course, we don't need to worry about that," Cyrus said with a slight smile, as only ten of them had come, with Draco being the youngest.

"I suggest you find a dance partner as soon as possible, or you'll have to enter alone. Or skip the ball altogether and go hungry. I should warn you, there won't be any food available outside of the ball."

"But what if we can't find a partner?" Draco asked quickly.

"If you can't, you could partner with another single student, Draco. Society is quite open now—dancing with another boy is no big deal. Though, you might need to negotiate who will play the role of the girl at the ball," Cyrus said with a laugh.

This suggestion made the faces of several boys change immediately.

If they considered that the only girl from Ilvermorny participating in the tournament, aside from Cassandra, was already taken, then unless they were comfortable dancing with another boy, they'd have to hurry to invite one of the girls from the other schools.

"That's why I suggest you spend more time socializing with the young witches from the other schools," Cyrus said with a slight laugh.

While hesitant people wasted time, the truly bold were already thinking about how best to ask someone suitable.

Just three days after the announcement of the Yule Ball, many girls in the castle had already secured partners.

Ginny and Hermione were still waiting; a few boys had asked them, but none of them were who they'd hoped for.

"There's no way he'd ask both of us," Hermione said pointedly. "And then there's Miss Bella, who doesn't seem like the type to give up easily."

"Maybe teachers don't have to worry about finding a partner," Ginny muttered, still not giving up. "Do you really think Snape will look for a date?"

"Uh, of course not…" The two of them whispered on in the library, unaware that a large figure was watching them from behind a bookshelf, clutching a book as he nervously observed the slightly disheveled Hermione.

"If he doesn't come to invite us, what do you think we should do?" Hermione asked.

"Well, I mean… there's no rule that dance partners have to be a boy and a girl, is there?" Ginny suggested, coming up with an idea Hermione would never have considered—one that required a little courage to break tradition.

Meanwhile, Cyrus hadn't put much thought into finding a dance partner.

In fact, he wasn't planning on dancing at all.

Compared to dancing, Cyrus was far more curious about whether Dumbledore and Grindelwald might share a dance at the ball. For the past few days, he'd kept an eye out, wondering if Grindelwald would muster the courage to ask Dumbledore.

Unfortunately, he hadn't spotted any signs of it.

However, his patience for such gossip only lasted so long.

In the days that followed, he returned to his usual habits, hiding in his luxurius carriage or heading to the Room of Requirement to research magic. It was far more interesting than dancing.

Lately, he'd been studying the Matagot.

This was the magical creature featured in Fantastic Beasts and spotted in the French Ministry of Magic. Entirely black with eyes that looked almost alien, Matagots had a unique ability: they could duplicate themselves when attacked by magic.

The duplication ability of Matagots was exceedingly rare in the magical world, nearly unheard of. After duplicating, each individual Matagot's magical strength didn't weaken, making them exponentially more dangerous.

Cyrus was currently investigating whether all duplicated Matagots shared a single consciousness or if each entity possessed its own independent awareness.

If he could replicate the magical circuitry of Matagot blood, he might be able to create a duplication spell.

One Dark Lord was terrifying enough, but if there were two, three… dozens… he could hardly imagine it....

He cast a minor spell at the Matagot. The normally gentle creature instantly became enraged, quickly splitting into two, arching its back and bristling as it crouched down, hissing menacingly at Cyrus.

"First, let's see if the two cats from the same original will exhibit different emotions."

Cyrus paid no mind to their bared fangs and claws. He simply reached out, grabbed one Matagot by the scruff of its neck, and separated them.

Then, he continued to provoke one Matagot while placing some delectable food in front of the other to calm it.

Soon, he observed that the Matagot with food grew calmer, while the one without it seemed even angrier.

"It appears they each have their own consciousness, yet their awareness is linked," Cyrus mused, stroking his chin.

It seemed the Matagot's duplication magic was a bit like a fusion of shadow-cloning techniques and shared vision; each duplicate retained its consciousness while sharing sensory input. The Matagot denied the treat knew it had been treated unfairly, which only heightened its anger.

This discovery made the magic seem even more remarkable.

However, replicating such a power and converting it into a spell would not be easy.

Even for Cyrus, who had mastered ancient magic, replicating the Matagot's abilities would require extensive experiments and time, especially those involving more ruthless magical procedures—an essential step.

…

In the days leading up to the Christmas Ball,

Harry and Ron finally realized the urgency of the situation.

Harry hadn't initially given much thought to the ball. He had already decided who he wanted to invite—Cho Chang from fifth year. However, because of his hesitation and shyness, Cho had already become Cedric's partner.

As he watched everyone around him pair up with their partners, he and Ron were left standing alone. Finally, Harry started to panic.

"I have an idea!" Ron came up with a less-than-great plan. "I'll ask Hermione, and Harry, you can ask Ginny."

"Will that work?" Harry was worried.

"Why not?" Ron countered. "We both know they're interested in Cyrus, but he can't be everyone's partner! They'll want to find a way into the hall to have a chance to dance with him, won't they? As for us, it's not like I'm excited to dance…"

Ron had lost all interest in dancing after seeing the dress robes his mother had sent him.

"To be honest, just having someone to walk the red carpet with would be a win. I just want to get to the food!"

"You make a good point," Harry agreed stiffly.

Unlike Ron, he was still holding out hope about Cho. But if he wanted to see her in her dress robes, he'd first have to get into the Great Hall.

"So, should we go with your plan?"

Harry and Ron quickly found Hermione and Ginny in the common room.

The fire was crackling in the fireplace, warming the entire space.

Ginny was curled up on the sofa, playing chess with another girl, while Hermione had her head down, reading a book.

"Hey, Hermione, Ginny, we need to talk to you," Ron said.

Hermione glanced up, then turned a page. "Go on, then."

Ron sat down beside her with a serious expression and looked her in the eyes as if he was about to reveal a big secret.

"Listen, Hermione—" He paused dramatically. "—you're a girl!"

Hermione: What the ???

Not only Hermione, but Ginny and everyone else nearby turned to Ron in astonishment.

"What an eye you have!" Hermione snapped, closing her book with a thud and smacking Ron on the head with it.

"Ow!"

"Ron, did you think Hermione was a boy this whole time?" Ginny rolled her eyes. "She sleeps in the girls' dormitory!"

"No, that's not what I meant! I was saying we could go to the Christmas ball together." Ron rubbed his head, grinning. He looked less like someone asking for a dance and more like someone suggesting they team up for a grocery run.

He clearly hadn't considered the possibility of rejection, but Hermione leaned back on the sofa, crossed her arms, and replied coolly:

"No."

"Yeah, thought so—wait—No? Why? If you don't go with me, how else are you going to the ball?" Ron asked, bewildered.

"You're mistaken, Ron. Did you really think Hermione's unpopular?" Ginny retorted.

"Isn't she?" Ron replied, looking sure of himself, though he quickly realized how that sounded. "I mean, I know who you both want to go with, but he can't ask both of you, right? You still need a way to get into the hall!"

"Ah, we don't need your help with that," Hermione said lazily, eyes still on her book.

"Actually, Krum asked Hermione several days ago," Ginny added. "Hermione turned him down, but even Krum understood that he should make a proper invitation. You two waited until the last minute, and then came to us like it's no big deal!"

Ginny's sharp gaze made both Ron and Harry shrink a little in embarrassment.

Harry hadn't even spoken but could already tell his chances were gone.

Sure enough, once Ginny finished talking, she went right back to her game. However, she did offer Harry a small bit of advice.

"That proud Cassandra still doesn't have a date. You two could try your luck with her."

"C-Cassandra?"

The image of a beautiful but intimidating face flashed in Harry's mind. Whenever he thought of her, he couldn't help but picture blood—the memory of a Death Eater's end still vivid enough to make him slightly afraid of Cassandra.

"What's there to be afraid of? Didn't I kill Pettigrew?" Ginny said.

"It's different. I blacked out then, so I didn't see it," Harry replied, still recalling the feeling of blood splattering onto his face. "Forget it; I'll find someone else."

He and Ron walked off.

Meanwhile, by the edge of the Black Lake, Cassandra—the one they'd been talking about—sat alone among the falling snowflakes.

The ice on the lake, once thin, had grown thick, and Durmstrang's ghostly ship was now deeply lodged in the frozen surface, as if mirroring Grindelwald's steady heart.

As night descended, Cassandra watched Grindelwald walk across the dark ice toward the castle, as though he was heading toward a heart-frozen solid.

On the ship's deck, Durmstrang's headmistress gazed sorrowfully at his retreating figure. Her look held a mix of disappointment and resignation.

Cassandra, too, waited for someone to invite her.

She knew several wizards were considering it; after all, she was quite beautiful. But none dared approach her, only peeking from afar, heads lowered.

Such people weren't worthy of a second glance from Cassandra. Fortunately, they did not have the courage, otherwise the failure of the invitation would only make them feel more embarrassed.

Now, there was no one by the Black Lake, and the fire in the castle was lighting up. She was sitting alone in the snow, and suddenly she stood up and jumped lightly onto the ice.

The moment she landed, she had a pair of ice skates on her feet, and Cassandra began to dance on the ice with heavy snow falling.

Cyrus left the Room of Requirement and planned to return to the carriage. Ilvermorny's carriage was parked at the edge of Black Lake, near the Forbidden Forest.

As he passed the Black Lake, he saw Cassandra dancing in the snow.

The girl seemed tiny compared to the huge Black Lake stage, moving gracefully and jumping lightly on the black ice.

The heavy snow in the sky bloomed on the tips of her golden hair!

___________

12 Advance Chapters—Patreon.com/HornyFBI