A towering mansion stood at the centre of a vast expanse of land. The mansion was surrounded by a beautiful garden on all sides. Exotic plants and colourful flowers from all over the world had been beautifully planted within. At one end of the garden, a small stream with crystal-clear water flowed, enhancing the picturesque scenery.
The mansion at the centre was no less beautiful than the garden on its outside. It had been constructed from the rarest of stones, which had been further sculpted and meticulously carved into numerous patterns and intricate designs, lending the massive stone structure an aristocratic air.
In the main hall of the mansion, a youthful-appearing man sat cross-legged. The man possessed untamed black hair and blazing green eyes.
Upon careful observation, one could discern strange and peculiar looking lines etched across the entire surface of the hall. These lines converged and diverged repeatedly to form strange patterns and symbols.
Furthermore, these patterns radiated a purple glow, which in turn illuminated the entire hall in a violet hue.
The man was seated at the precise centre of the hall, where all these engraved lines converged.
This man was the greatest wizard ever to walk the earth, the saviour of the wizarding world, and, simultaneously, its greatest dark lord. The man was none other than the Boy Who Lived, Harry Potter.
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More than three hundred and fifty years had passed since his final battle with Voldemort in the Battle of Hogwarts. During those three and a half centuries, Harry had experienced a lifetime of events.
Only after finally vanquishing Voldemort did he, for the first time in his life, felt truly free. From that monumental moment, his existence underwent a complete transformation. He embarked on a new journey of self-discovery and mastery.
Firstly, only a few days later since the battle, he learned that snapping apart the Elder Wand was futile, as he soon found himself once again in possession of it. The three Deathly Hallows, as they were called, had irrevocably chosen him as their master, and he was the 'Master of Death.'
He remained uncertain about the truth of his invincibility against death, but one thing was undeniable: the Deathly Hallows imbued him with immense power… extraordinary power.
Not only did his magical reserves slowly swell to a tremendous level, but his intelligence and physical capabilities also underwent a profound transformation. The feeble and fragile boy- one who had been nothing more delicate bones was gone.
All his past injuries and scars had healed completely, and he had become immensely powerful.
Every single magical spell ever wielded by the Elder Wand was now imprinted within his mind.
Slowly, over time, he also mastered the intricate art of wandless magic. As the years went by, his power transcended anything the world could have previously imagined.
With little else to occupy his vast lifespan, he engrossed himself in the study of magic. He researched ancient spells, delved into forgotten theories, and even created entirely new magical incantations. Everything that could be learned was eventually mastered by him.
Gradually, as he began to involve himself in the intricacies of the wizarding world and its intricate politics, he unearthed his true legacy. He learned the complete history of his family, tracing its influence through centuries.
He finally pieced together all the manipulations he had been subjected to throughout his youth, all the subtle ploys orchestrated against him. Things that had been hidden in plain sight but had been overlooked due to his innocence and ignorance were now starkly clear.
In a relatively short span of years, Harry had become both extraordinarily powerful and exceptionally knowledgeable.
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Even after the defeat of the Dark Lord Voldemort, the fundamental structure of wizarding society had remained largely unchanged.
The same nonsensical obsession with Blood supremacy persisted. Individuals like Draco Malfoy, who had escaped punishment even after actively supporting Voldemort, displayed not an iota of remorse. They continued with the same prejudiced thinking and behaviour. The pervasive discrimination against muggle-borns continued to be as rampant as it was earlier.
And not long after, another Dark Lord emerged, espousing the same dangerous ideology of purifying the wizarding world of the so called 'impure' blood. This new threat, unlike Voldemort, was at least of so called 'pure-blood' lineage.
Harry once again rose in defiance and defeated this new dark lord with effortless ease. With the sheer magnitude of his powers, no other wizard or witch could even come close to rivalling him.
A few years later, this destructive cycle repeated itself, and Harry defeated yet another aspiring Dark Lord. However, after a certain point, the sheer scale of Harry's power began to instil fear in the majority of the wizarding world.
Initially it was all whispers and rumours but they eventually openly labelled him as the next dark lord.
But Harry paid no heed to these ignorant fools, as no one possessed the capability or the courage to stand against him openly. He was not to be affected by mindless fools as long as they did not came knocking on his gates with trouble in their wake.
On the other hand, while the wizarding world remained consumed by its internal struggles and petty squabbles, the muggle world progressed by leaps and bounds.
An unparalleled level of technology was developed at an astonishing rate, and the long held secret of a hidden magical world could not remain concealed indefinitely.
Though both societies eventually managed to reach a fragile agreement of mutual survival, it proved largely ineffective. Heavy friction and mistrust continued to simmer between both the worlds, and the muggle and wizarding worlds teetered precariously on the brink of open war.
But Harry held no real concern for any of this. He remained holed up in his manor doing what he wanted. He no longer possessed the same naive innocence or unwavering morality that had once compelled him to leap into danger to save the lives of others.
His only true regret in his long life was the way his Hogwarts years had unfolded and the tragic fates of a few individuals closely connected to him. And he was finally going to change that.
With all the accumulated knowledge he had gathered over the centuries, he had finally discovered a method to send his soul back into the past.
It was a pure gamble, a desperate leap of faith. He would either succeed in altering his past or face utter oblivion. But it did not really matter. There was nothing more left to accomplish in this life. And natural death was still very far away. So why not die try doing something?
Harry was finally prepared to begin the intricate ritual. He raised his left palm slightly, and with a small silver knife held in his right hand, he made a deep gash across his left palm.
Drops of blood began to fall onto the engraved carvings below, and as soon as the crimson liquid touched the lines, the purple glow emanating from them intensified dramatically. As if by some magic, the flow of blood from Harry's hand increased exponentially.
The blood spread along the intricate carvings in all directions, and within mere minutes, Harry felt his entire body growing weak from the rapid blood loss. The next moment, his weakened form collapsed onto the cold stone floor with a dull thud.
The next moment, the carvings engraved on the ground pulsed with a wild surge of blinding light, and a vast, uncontrolled torrent of raw magic erupted from the etched lines with a deafening boom.
It was as if a colossal explosion had occurred at the very heart of the mansion. In the blink of an eye, the entire magnificent structure, along with its meticulously cultivated gardens and the tranquil stream, was utterly obliterated, reduced to nothing more than swirling dust in the silent aftermath.
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