Dawn struggled to penetrate the heavy black velvet curtains of the Rosier mansion. In this vast and austere room, the air thick with dust and the aroma of ancient parchment, a body lay. Yet, this body was not truly that of an ordinary child. It breathed with the slowness of a newborn being, and yet, its eyes opened with the clarity of a millennium of experience.
Marius Rosier, the sole heir of a noble pure-blood family, was no longer just a twelve-year-old boy. An older, more powerful entity had taken hold of him. A dark lord once defeated by brave hobbits, the terrible Sauron, had re-entered this world with a body that, despite its youth, bore the radiance of a sovereign and the coldness of a conqueror.
His hypnotic green eyes sparkled with a perverse intelligence, exploring the room with an almost frightening depth. His translucent white skin seemed almost unreal, on the verge of the spectral. Every feature of his face was sculpted with supernatural precision, making his appearance both magnificent and unsettling.
In the silence of the room, a murmur arose, almost imperceptible, as Marius stretched out his slender fingers. Without a wand, without incantation, a raven feather resting on a table lifted and began to trace ancient symbols on a half-torn parchment.
"The time has broken," he thought. "This world is but a new chessboard. And I will be the uncontested master."
The reality of his incarnation into the Rosier family was not lost on him. This clan, famous for its purity of blood and rigid attachment to tradition, regarded him with icy mistrust. His parents, though proud of his heritage, had never known how to show him true love. Too foreign to their narrow vision of the world, Marius had grown up in bitter solitude, but this only fueled his ambition.
In the adjacent living room, his parents were discussing in low voices. Count Rosier, a tall and thin man with harsh features, and his wife, a cold beauty with a distant gaze, were unaware that the child they were trying to raise had become the incarnation of an ancestral evil.
"He is too different," the countess murmured. "His talents exceed anything I have ever seen. But I feel he is hiding something, something dark..."
"Do not be superstitious," the count replied. "A Rosier is a Rosier. Power is in our blood."
But they did not understand. Marius was no longer a simple pure-blood wizard. He possessed magic and an understanding of the universe that far surpassed anything the magical society could imagine.
In his first days of awakening, he explored the mansion and its vast libraries, absorbing local magic and probing the secrets of forgotten grimoires. He practiced casting spells without a wand, a power that only the most gifted wizards could hope to master. Mastery of elemental spells, the transmutation of objects, forbidden dark magic: everything seemed to flow naturally within him.
But Sauron, or Marius, had an even more formidable weapon: manipulation. His mind was a complex labyrinth, capable of probing the psychological flaws of his enemies and even his allies. He could inspire love, hate, fear, or betrayal in the hearts of others, weaving webs of influence and power with almost divine subtlety.
One evening, as the Rosier family dined, Marius sat at the table, his gaze shining with a troubling intensity. His parents exchanged a worried look.
"Have you finished your magic exercises today, Marius?" his father asked, trying to mask his concern.
"Yes, Father. And I have discovered ancient spells, much more powerful than those you teach."
The count raised an eyebrow.
"You speak as if you have lived a thousand lives."
A cold smile stretched Marius's lips.
"Perhaps... because in a sense, it is true."
They did not understand the hidden threat in these words. But Marius knew that time would play in his favor. He would be patient, wait for the right moment, and then strike.
The next day, he explored the surroundings of the mansion, mixing curiosity and study. He observed the Muggles, these strange beings, unaware of the magical world around them, fascinating in their simplicity and ignorance. But he also saw their fragility, their vulnerability.
Muggle magic was weak, but it could be diverted, amplified, corrupted.
Marius immersed himself in dark magic, studying forbidden grimoires that even the darkest wizards avoided. He experimented with mind control spells, pain enchantments, forgotten curses. His young body was the temple of an ancient power, and every gesture, every breath, vibrated with contained malevolent energy.
As the days passed, he also reflected on his place in this new world. He had understood that to conquer, he first had to understand, infiltrate, manipulate. Hogwarts would be his next playground, the place where he could find allies, pawns, future servants. But before that, he had to consolidate his power, refine his abilities, and above all, mask his true nature.
The first chapters of his plan were being written in the shadows, in icy whispers, in calculated smiles.
For Marius Rosier, Sauron resurrected, was determined to reclaim his place at the top—in this world, and in all others.