The cold winds of Northern Europe carried with them a different kind of magic—older, harsher, less restrained.
Standing before Durmstrang Institute, I allowed myself a faint smile.
This place… had always been fertile ground.
Unlike Hogwarts, Durmstrang did not shy away from the Dark Arts. It embraced them. Encouraged them. Refined them.
Which made it perfect.
My meeting with Gellert Grindelwald had only solidified my next move.
Control the present… and the future would follow naturally.
And what better way to control the future…
Than to shape those who would inherit it?
The takeover had been… simple.
A few well-placed curses.
A handful of quiet threats.
And most importantly—pressure applied to the local Ministry.
The Minister had resisted at first. Of course he had. They always did.
But resistance crumbles quickly when one realizes how fragile their life truly is.
Or how easily their family could disappear.
Within days, the decision was made.
A new headmaster was appointed.
My headmaster.
A loyal Death Eater, intelligent, ruthless, and—most importantly—discreet.
I walked through the stone halls of Durmstrang beside him, my boots echoing softly against the cold floors.
"Subtle changes," I instructed. "Nothing overt. Not yet."
"Of course, my Lord," he replied immediately.
"Encourage ambition," I continued. "Reward strength. Identify talent early."
"And the weaker students?"
I glanced at him briefly.
"Use them," I said simply.
He nodded without hesitation.
Good.
The curriculum shifted—just slightly.
Dark magic was no longer merely taught.
It was refined.
Combat training became more practical.
Spellcasting more aggressive.
Students were encouraged to duel, to push themselves, to dominate rather than merely defend.
But the most important change…
Was invisible.
Influence.
I moved quietly among the students, my presence masked when necessary, revealed when beneficial.
A word here.
A conversation there.
A "chance" encounter with a promising young witch or wizard.
I praised ambition.
I rewarded intelligence.
I guided their thoughts—not forcefully, but subtly.
Planting seeds.
Ideas of a greater world.
A better world.
My world.
"You've ever wondered why we hide?" I asked one student quietly during a late evening conversation.
He hesitated. "It's the law…"
"Laws can be changed," I replied softly.
His expression shifted.
Hooked.
Another showed exceptional talent in dueling.
I arranged for him to "accidentally" receive advanced texts.
A girl with a natural affinity for runes?
She was quietly placed under the guidance of my appointed professors.
Each one cultivated.
Each one shaped.
Each one slowly drawn into my orbit.
Durmstrang became more than a school.
It became a pipeline.
A recruitment ground.
A forge where future Death Eaters would be created—not through fear…
But through belief.
Weeks turned into months.
And already, I could see the results.
Students growing more ambitious.
More ruthless.
More aligned with my ideals.
As I stood overlooking the frozen lake beside the castle, I clasped my hands behind my back.
This was only the beginning.
Hogwarts would resist me.
Beauxbatons would hesitate.
But Durmstrang?
Durmstrang would belong to me entirely.
And from here…
From this cold, unforgiving land…
I would raise an army that had never known fear of the Dark Arts.
An army that would not question me.
An army that would believe.
I smiled faintly.
The war had not begun yet.
But its foundation?
It was already being built.
And when the time came…
The world would not be facing a single Dark Lord.
It would be facing a generation shaped in my image.