The seventh year began with a quiet determination. I had grown older, stronger, and my body was now fully matured, tempered by the potions, training, and years of careful cultivation of both magic and intellect. Hogwarts itself felt… smaller somehow, though the halls hadn't changed. Perhaps it was I who had grown beyond the castle.
From the first day, I immersed myself in study, devouring every tome in the library with my eidetic memory. Spells, charms, alchemy, ancient magic, dark rituals — nothing escaped my attention. In weeks, I had absorbed knowledge that would have taken decades for an ordinary wizard to master.
The Room of Requirement became my central hub. Using my mastery of alchemy and enchantments, I constructed a vanishing cabinet hidden deep within its walls, capable of teleporting troops in an instant. I traced its magical pathways carefully, ensuring no trace or flaw, a perfect mechanism for the future. Mimsy watched silently as I tested it, her eyes wide at the speed and efficiency of the creation.
"Master, you could move an entire army through that," she said quietly.
"I can," I replied, a faint smile tugging at my lips. "But timing is everything. It will remain unused… for now."
My academic work continued as usual — perfect grades, top of my class in every subject. Slughorn practically glowed every time I entered potions, Dumbledore, when present, nodded at my transfigurations, and my Death Eaters trained under my guidance, growing stronger, sharper, more loyal. And finally, after years of careful politeness and persuasion, I gained Hagrid's loyalty. A half-giant with immense knowledge of magical creatures, his value to my future plans was incalculable.
But the true turning point of the year wasn't in my own accomplishments. Word spread like wildfire through the wizarding world: Dumbledore had faced Gellert Grindelwald. The duel, legendary even before it happened, had ended in Dumbledore's victory. Grindelwald was imprisoned in Nurmengard, and Dumbledore had claimed the Elder Wand.
The news reached Hogwarts before the end of the term. Students whispered in awe; professors seemed tense, their faces betraying both admiration and unease. The Elder Wand, that mythical instrument of unmatched power, was now in the hands of the greatest wizard of the century. I listened carefully, calculating, analyzing.
So Grindelwald is gone, Dumbledore has the Elder Wand… interesting.
I allowed the information to settle. Even this early, I understood its implications. Dumbledore's power had increased, his influence expanded. But so had mine. I had spent seven years preparing, training, experimenting, and building an army of loyal and capable subordinates. I was ready for the next phase — whatever it might be.
Hogwarts' final days of the year were celebratory for students, though I felt none of the idle joy others seemed to indulge in. The House Cup was again ours, predictable as always. My friends, my Death Eaters, gathered quietly with me in the Slytherin common room, sharing small moments of laughter and camaraderie. Hagrid sat nearby, enjoying the food and conversation, clearly proud to be part of my inner circle.
And then graduation came. Robes worn, diplomas in hand, the usual pomp and ceremony — but for me, it was nothing more than a stepping stone. Seven years at Hogwarts had prepared me for the world, for power, for everything I intended to achieve.
As I walked across the stage, my thoughts were already on the next steps. The world outside Hogwarts was vast, fragile, and unaware of the storm that was approaching. With Dumbledore at the height of his power, the Elder Wand in his hands, and Grindelwald behind bars, timing would be everything.
I left the castle that year not as a student, but as a calculated force, prepared to mold the wizarding world according to my design. Every spell mastered, every artifact crafted, every ally recruited — all led to this moment.
And somewhere deep in the shadows of my mind, I could hear the whispers of the Deathly Hallows waiting. The Elder Wand, the Resurrection Stone, the Invisibility Cloak — soon, all would obey me.
Graduation ended. My seventh year concluded. And for the first time in a long time, I allowed myself a small, satisfied smile. The world was about to change.