Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all of its characters belong to JK Rowling. I own nothing but the original characters I make.
Chapter 161: Voldemort Adventure
30 NOVEMBER 1996
DARK DIMENSION – VOLDEMORT POV
It had been several months since he first ventured into the Dark Dimension.
Time itself felt meaningless here because there was no sun, no moon and no proper sense of day or night. Only a vast, endless void filled with distorted landscapes, shifting shadows, and an oppressive aura of dark magic so dense that even breathing felt heavy.
This place was lit up with dark magic, making it eerie and scary at the same time. Even for him, the most powerful Dark Wizard Voldemort, a master of dark arts beyond most wizards in his space, this place was hard to live in.
Here… he was nothing more than prey.
"This place…" Voldemort muttered softly, his red eyes scanning the surrounding. "Even I must tread carefully."
The ground beneath his feet pulsed faintly, as if it were alive. Strange whispers echoed from nowhere, brushing against his mind, trying to erode his sanity.
At first, he thought it was merely residual magic but he quickly realized the truth.
This dimension itself is not suitable for him to live for a long time, maybe because he come from other dimension so it erode his mind.
His lips curled slightly.
"How interesting."
Yet even with his curiosity, he knew better than to lower his guard.
There had been a moment, just one careless moment when he nearly died.
He remembered it clearly, the encounter with the Gargantoa.
A monstrous creature with the grotesque head of a pig, a massive body like a cow, and glowing red eyes filled with primal hunger. Its presence alone had shaken the surrounding space, distorting the air with raw, chaotic magic.
The moment it noticed him…
It attacked without a warning and no hesitation.
Voldemort had barely managed to escape. Even now, the memory lingered and a rare feeling that he faced when he was infront of Dumbledore and Dudley.
This feeling was a fear.
"…I was careless," he whispered.
His fingers twitched slightly as he recalled how close he had come to destruction.
That creature… it wasn't intelligent in the way humans were. It was driven by instinct, hunger and power and yet It was stronger than him.
Because of this, it strengthen his resolve to stay here and learn as many dark art as possible. His current strength are not enough to even face Dudley so he need more powerful magic than before.
Thinking about the knowledge and power make Voldemort become excited.
"This dimension truly holds power beyond the wizarding world…"
Since then, Voldemort had become far more cautious.
He observed who among those can become his teacher, he learned by looking at the creature living here and finally he adapted.
There were many creatures here, some with intelligence rivaling humans, others barely more than beasts. But the most dangerous ones were not the mindless monsters.
It was those who thought, those who spoke and those who had mastered magic far darker than anything he had encountered before and they all shared one thing in common.
One common trait among Dark Wizard which is Arrogance.
They saw themselves as kings as rulers of this dimension.
To them, Voldemort was nothing more than an outsider, An insect.
Voldemort's lips curved into a thin smile.
Arrogance… is a weakness.
And he knew exactly how to exploit it.
After months of careful observation, avoiding unnecessary conflicts, and hiding his true strength, his patience finally bore fruit.
He found one, an old man.
At first glance, the man looked frail, his body thin, his robes tattered, his hair long and unkempt. His eyes, however, burned with a twisted brilliance.
Although he looked weak and no physical strength but the valuable thing on that old man was his knowledge
"Another lost fools," the old man croaked, his voice dry and mocking. "Or are you simply another fool who wandered into a place beyond your understanding?"
Voldemort lowered his head slightly, masking the cold gleam in his eyes.
"I seek knowledge," he said calmly. "Nothing more."
The old man laughed, a harsh, grating sound.
"Knowledge? Hah! Do you even understand where you are?"
Voldemort remained silent.
The old man stepped closer, his gaze scanning Voldemort from head to toe.
"…Interesting," he murmured. "You carry darkness within you. Deep darkness, yet your power… is incomplete."
Voldemort's expression didn't change, but his mind sharpened.
'He noticed immediately.'
"You are broken," the old man continued, smirking. "Someone who thought he was stronger but being slapped with reality."
Voldemort fingers curled slightly.
But instead of anger, he let out a quiet breath.
"Yes," Voldemort admitted. "I am broken and I need someone to guide me."
The old man chuckled.
"Then you are nothing."
Voldemort slowly raised his head, his red eyes meeting the old man gaze.
"But I can learn."
Silence.
For a brief moment, the old man studied him carefully.
Then.
"Hah!" he laughed again. "Bold. I like that."
He turned away, waving his hand dismissively.
"I am the greatest master of dark arts in this dimension," the old man declared arrogantly. "There is no magic I do not understand and no magic I cannot wield."
Voldemort listened quietly.
Inside, he smiled.
'Perfect.'
This was exactly the kind of person he needed.
Arrogant and lonely. Desperate to prove superiority.
Just like Slughorn, just like the professors of Hogwarts, just like everyone he had manipulated before.
Voldemort took a step forward.
"Then teach me."
The old man paused.
"Why should I?" he asked, his tone suddenly sharp.
Voldemort lowered his gaze slightly.
"Because I recognize greatness when I see it."
People like this need simple Flattery and it was very effective.
The old man's lips curled into a grin.
"You have a good eye," he said proudly. "Most fools cannot even understand my brilliance."
Voldemort remained silent, allowing the man ego to grow.
"I suppose…" the old man continued, stroking his beard, "it wouldn't hurt to have a student. Someone to witness my greatness."
Voldemort smiled at him.
"It would be an honor."
And just like that, Voldemort become his student. Days turned into weeks, weeks turned into months.
The old man taught him almost everything he knew, ancient spells, forbidden rituals, techniques that twisted reality itself.
Magic that did not belong to the human world, magic that even Voldemort had never imagined and all the while.
Through their relationship, Voldemort learned his master name was Rizen, he was being crippled because of his past crime. He only can use 10% of his power so his magic are not very strong, what benefit him the most are his knowledge.
Voldemort absorbed the knowledge like sponge.
The old man believed it was his own brilliance that make the teaching easier that is why Voldemort are easily learning the magic.
He never realized the truth, that every word, every praise, every gesture… Was carefully crafted manipulation.
One day, as Voldemort practiced a new form of dark energy, the old man watched with a satisfied grin.
"You learn quickly," he said. "Perhaps… you might become worthy of my legacy."
Voldemort straightened, his expression calm.
"Your teachings are… invaluable."
But inside... His thoughts were far colder.
'Fool, it wasn't because you are good at teaching others, even Binns the ghost are more good in teaching than you. I learn this fast because I myself a brilliance student during my time at Hogwarts.'