As I wandered through the busy streets of Diagon Alley, carrying several bags filled with newly purchased books, my thoughts drifted toward the future.
I had inherited Tom Riddle’s ambition, but I had also inherited my memories from another life.
Together, they created something entirely different from the original Voldemort.
I was still Tom Riddle.
Still ambitious.
Still determined to stand at the very top of the magical world.
But unlike my future self, I wasn’t blinded by arrogance.
Looking back on Voldemort’s original life, I couldn’t help but think he had made one catastrophic mistake after another.
Creating so many Horcruxes, relying on fear alone, murdering potential allies, completely ignoring politics, economics, and the importance of public support—it was honestly astonishing that someone so intelligent could make so many stupid long-term decisions.
Perhaps Horcruxes really did damage the mind.
Splitting your soul into tiny fragments couldn’t possibly be healthy.
Whatever method of immortality I eventually chose, I intended to research every possible alternative first.
That didn’t mean my goals had changed.
Not really.
I still wanted immortality.
I still wanted to stand above everyone else.
And…
I still wanted to rule.
At least Magical Britain.
After all, according to my new bloodline, I was a descendant of Arthur Pendragon himself.
If there was anyone with a legitimate claim to lead magical Britain, it was probably me.
Of course…
“I am absolutely doing this for everyone’s benefit.” I nodded seriously to myself.
“I am definitely not planning to become an all-powerful dictator.” “Definitely.” “I simply intend to place the wizarding world under my wise, completely reasonable, absolutely benevolent leadership.” I paused for a moment before grinning.
“Yep.” “I’m obviously the good guy.” Whether I actually believed that or not was another matter entirely.
Still, if I wanted to achieve my goals, there were several possible paths available to me.
Unlike the original Voldemort, who jumped straight to terrorism and civil war, I intended to think several decades ahead.
There was no reason to start a war if I could simply win through influence instead.
The first path was probably the simplest.
Become Minister for Magic.
Honestly, the position wasn’t nearly as impressive as people pretended it was.
Politicians relied on popularity, influence, favors, and public opinion.
If someone as incompetent as Cornelius Fudge could eventually become Minister, then someone with my talent, intelligence, magical ability, and long-term planning certainly could.
By the time I reached adulthood, I would possess centuries worth of magical knowledge, an enormous amount of wealth, several ancient family names, and enough political influence to rival anyone in Britain.
Becoming Minister honestly sounded more like a matter of patience than difficulty.
The second option appealed to me for an entirely different reason.
Become Headmaster of Hogwarts.
Ironically, this was actually similar to the original Tom Riddle’s dream before he became Voldemort.
He had wanted to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts.
I could easily follow a similar path.
Graduate with perfect grades, become a professor, eventually become Deputy Headmaster, and finally succeed whoever occupied the Headmaster’s office.
Controlling Hogwarts meant shaping every future generation of magical Britain.
Every Minister, Auror, healer, Unspeakable, and magical researcher would pass through those halls.
Influence built through education lasted far longer than influence built through fear.
Dumbledore himself was living proof of that.
The third path…
Was my least favorite.
Become the Dark Lord.
Again.
Conquer Magical Britain through force.
It would certainly work eventually.
With my talent, the system, my inherited wealth, and decades of preparation, victory wasn’t impossible.
But…
It would also be the least efficient option.
Wars destroyed economies.
Killed talented people.
Created endless enemies.
If I could achieve the same result through politics, education, or careful manipulation, why choose open conflict?
Still…
I wasn’t foolish enough to completely abandon the possibility.
“If every peaceful option fails…” I shrugged.
“Then becoming the Dark Lord remains available.” Hopefully it wouldn’t come to that.
Leaving those thoughts behind, I continued browsing the various magical shops.
Unfortunately, there were limits to what I could accomplish today.
While my inheritance test had revealed unimaginable wealth, most of my family’s greatest treasures remained inaccessible.
Ancient magical contracts prevented me from opening the primary vaults until I reached adulthood.
That meant countless priceless artifacts, legendary spell books, family grimoires, experimental research, and founder-era magical knowledge would remain sealed away for several more years.
“That’s incredibly frustrating.” Nearly a billion Galleons sat inside the Peverell vault alone, yet I couldn’t touch most of the important contents because magical law considered me too young.
Still…
Complaining wouldn’t solve anything.
Instead, I focused on what I could do.
There were still plenty of books available for purchase throughout Diagon Alley.
While they couldn’t compare to the hidden libraries of the Slytherins or Peverells, many were still considered advanced by ordinary standards.
I purchased several books on magical theory, spell creation, magical history, advanced potion ingredients, bloodline inheritance, wandlore, and introductory alchemy.
Combined with my photographic memory and Personal Dimension, I would have more than enough material to study before Hogwarts began.
“My talent really is absurd.” According to the system, my magical talent already stood at the absolute peak of the century in several fields.
On top of that, I possessed the magical reserves of a fully grown adult despite only being eleven years old.
Whether that was due to my fused soul, the system’s enhancements, or Tom Riddle’s natural potential hardly mattered.
The result was the same.
I had every advantage imaginable.
Now I simply needed the knowledge to match it.
The remaining weeks before Hogwarts wouldn’t be wasted relaxing.
Far from it.
I intended to spend nearly every free moment inside my Personal Dimension, mastering my wand, studying advanced magical theory, practicing Occlumency and Legilimency, refining my control over wandless magic, and building the strongest possible foundation before ever setting foot inside Hogwarts Castle.
After all…
The students arriving on September first would be ordinary first-years.
I intended to arrive as something far more dangerous.