fate’s decree ?

In the living room of Malfoy Manor, adorned with golden and dark green ornaments, jewels, and fine furnishings, the ambiance screamed wealth. It felt as if the room had been designed solely to showcase riches.

Sitting on a black leather sofa, with his Death Eaters kneeling on the floor before him, was none other than the Dark Lord Voldemort.

Seeing his Death Eaters kneeling before him was no longer as satisfying as it had once been. Now, this sight only fueled his desire to tear them apart. What use were they if they couldn't even carry out his orders? It had been a few days since all his Horcruxes had been destroyed—the pain he felt at that moment was indescribable. He could still feel phantom pains now and then, alongside the cold touch of death brushing against him.

He realized that he was mortal once more and could no longer create more Horcruxes. The realization was maddening.

He had just finished branding the new werewolf and vampire slaves when it happened. He would have thought it was a hallucination if it hadn't been for the pain that drove him to lose control. In an effort to save himself, he siphoned all the magic they possessed, trying to stop the agony and heal, but it was pointless. Even though his magic grew stronger, his control plummeted, worse than that of first-year Hogwarts students—and that was no small failure. The result was the death of all his new slaves. He managed to calm himself somewhat after that and began to devise a way to heal. After examining numerous ritual books, he found one dark ritualistic spell that could help him.

The primary requirement for its success was to defeat a wizard of equal power in single magical combat, and what better target than one he had marked himself? Upon succeeding, he could possess that wizard's body and claim half of his soul, which would help heal his own and enable him to create another Horcrux.

The preparation requirements, however, included the sacrifice of seven loyal wizards—While family was recommended, it was not necessary; thus, he chose the alternative option— his slaves along with seven traitors and seven innocents. He had already completed the last two requirements; only the first remained. This brought him to the current situation. He could have killed them outright, but he needed their verbal agreement to complete the preparations.

"I have gathered you here for a very important meeting. We are preparing to attack Hogwarts and kill Potter once and for all. I want to know if you're loyal enough to die for me," Voldemort said. His voice was calm, as if the madness that had plagued him for so long had faded. He reminded himself that he required their verbal agreement. He was neither calm nor inclined to ask such questions, but the circumstances demanded it. He could see it in their eyes and the slight shifts of their bodies; they were uncomfortable with his sudden change in demeanor—surprised and more fearful than ever.

"Of course, my Lord," they replied with practiced ease. The most enthusiastic was Bellatrix, but that was to be expected, especially after he had destroyed Azkaban shortly after Potter's escape, to free her and the rest of them. Now, most of his old forces were ready for battle.

Now that he had obtained their agreement, he only needed to select who to sacrifice. After observing them for a moment longer, he said, "Very well. Go and prepare; we will start the attack tonight." His voice remained calm. It was difficult to maintain this calm façade when all he wanted was to tear everything—and everyone—apart, but he needed it. He required them to be scared so they wouldn't have time to think about anything else.

Seated alone on the sofa, he resolved to choose Bellatrix, Lucius, Pettigrew, Barty Crouch Jr., Dolohov, and Avery. These were the most loyal, whether out of fear or desire; it didn't matter. He raised his wand slightly and chanted the ritual's incantation while activating the kill switch on the slave marks he had given them. This had been designed for the unlikely event of any of his slaves successfully escaping, but now it served another purpose. As soon as he finished, he was overwhelmed by the feelings and energy he received after completing the preparation. It took him a few seconds to calm down, but the sensation lingered—like an itch driving him to complete the spell as soon as possible. He didn't know why this sensation occurred or why there was no written warning about it, but he didn't care. Tonight, he would kill Potter. Tonight, he would emerge victorious, and afterward, he would be known as the most feared and immortal Dark Lord.

On the other hand, a heated discussion was underway in the minister's office.

"Amelia, don't you understand what's happening? We can't allow the brat to force us into compliance. He has already made his first move by taking control of Hogwarts; now he just needs to convince the students of his views and shape the wizarding world as he wishes. We have to do something!" Kingsley Shacklebolt said, urgency and anger lacing his voice. He had been humiliated by Potter before, and now he was determined to exact the revenge he craved.

"And what do you suggest we do? Attack him? You've firsthand experienced his power and couldn't do anything. Now you want what? To get my Aurors killed? If you have a death wish, go for it—just don't drag people down with you. For the record, he is not a brat. Not anymore. The brat died in Azkaban; now we are left with the monster," she replied, her tone a mix of anger and resignation. They had been discussing Potter for far too long, and she couldn't take it anymore. There was no solution against overwhelming odds and power. As long as Harry Potter remained at Hogwarts, they couldn't act. Especially now that She had been elected as the new minister after Fudge resigned and vanished, and she was left to clean up the mess he had left behind. She had more important things to focus on.

"We've been talking about this for a while now, but why don't we wait and see what happens? There's no other option, so why not just observe? Maybe we'll find an opportunity, or perhaps things will improve. There's no point in rehashing the same topic every time we meet. We have Death Eaters running rampant and more problems than Harry Potter. So let's leave him alone for now and discuss how to deal with the frequent Death Eater attacks," Tonks suddenly interjected, weariness evident in her voice. She was beginning to regret her choice to become an Auror. Being assigned as Amelia's secretary only made it more exhausting.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the Ministry, in a dim room lit by a single lamp over a round table, five people were deliberating on the same topic.

"Our diviner has predicted a battle between the Dark Lord and Harry Potter tonight. I want to hear your opinions on what to do," one of them said, his voice distorted as if altered by something unseen.

"We can't interfere in tonight's events; fate has already been written, and the consequences of interference will be dire," replied another voice, also distorted.

"True, but we aren't ready for a battle with him either. We're still preparing our artifacts, and that will take time," said another, this one possessing a feminine touch.

"Are you sure you're not just trying to protect your son? I still don't trust your judgment," a new distorted voice chimed in. Despite the distortion, doubt was evident in his tone.

"Enough! You'll be punished later for breaking the secrecy rules. And for the record, what she said is true; we are not ready," the last speaker stated, her voice clear and without distortion. Although the secrecy of the meeting required anonymity among the participants, it was evident that, even without the secrecy, no one would know her identity.

—————

Enjoy and join me on pat.reon for advance chapters….