The night air was cold in Godric's Hollow, but I barely noticed it.
I had returned to Britain, leaving the bristling streets of New York behind. The familiar fog curled along the cobblestones, carrying with it the scent of damp earth and history. I apparated silently to St. Jerome's Church, my steps quiet on the worn stones. My destination was simple: Ignotus Peverell's grave, resting in solemn quiet beneath the triangular mark of the Deathly Hallows.
The tombstone was ancient, weathered and eroded, but the symbol remained unmistakable. I ran my fingers over the faint carvings and felt the weight of legacy pressing down. Ignotus. The brother who had mastered death, who had crafted the Cloak, who had walked a path few could ever understand.
I bowed my head.
"Ignotus Peverell," I whispered, my voice low, almost reverent. "I pay my respects."
And then, with a flick of Salazar's wand, the ground before me trembled. The soil shifted as though obeying a silent command, and the coffin emerged from its resting place. I crouched down, peering into the darkness inside.
The skeleton lay motionless, ancient and brittle, but in its hand was an artifact I had long anticipated: Ignotus's wand.
It was elegant, yet austere, crafted in the style of the Peverells: subtle runes engraved along its length, a slight shimmer beneath the moonlight, and a feel that suggested a will of its own. I picked it up, feeling the wand assess me. It took a second—a heartbeat, a breath—but then the recognition came. It accepted me.
Not as flawlessly as the Snakewood wand, of course. That wand would remain my primary instrument of power. But this… this would serve perfectly as a backup. A second string of unmatched strength in case the battle demanded it.
I experimented with a few flicks, testing transfiguration, a simple shield charm, and a brief attempt at silent spellcasting. The wand responded, eager but measured. I allowed a faint smile to form.
Then, I turned my attention back to the coffin. With a few precise movements, I restored the earth, covering the grave with a neat layer of soil. Then, with a subtle twist of magic, a field of delicate flowers blossomed around the tombstone, white and violet petals waving faintly in the wind. Finally, I etched a line into the stone itself:
"He that does not run from death."
Satisfied, I apparated back to Peverell Castle, carrying Ignotus's wand carefully. My mind raced even as my body moved, already analyzing what I had gained.
Ignotus's journals lay scattered across my study table, old parchment filled with notes, sketches, and runic formulas. As I read, I discovered details I had anticipated but hoped would be true: his wand shared a twin core with the Elder Wand.
My lips curved into a quiet, knowing smile. A twin core. Two wands, born of the same magical essence, linked in ways few could ever comprehend. Much like Harry Potter and Voldemort's phoenix feather wands—except now, one belonged to me, the other… to Dumbledore.
I paused. This was significant.
A twin-core connection was more than symbolic. It made dueling incredibly unpredictable. It created a bond that could trigger Priori Incantatem, the rare and fabled phenomenon where wands with shared cores force echoes of spells cast by the other. It could reveal secrets, undo plans mid-duel, and cause previously cast magic to resurface in ways that could disrupt even the most seasoned wizard.
Dumbledore.
Even he—arguably the greatest wizard of the age—would struggle against me now. Two wands, both strong, one linked intimately to his own. The edge was mine.
I ran my fingers along the twin-core wand, imagining the battles to come. The Snakewood wand would be my primary instrument, unyielding, lethal, imbued with the dark legacy of Salazar Slytherin. Ignotus's wand would act as a counterbalance, a backup, a hidden blade ready to echo spells in ways that could destabilize Dumbledore's defenses.
The combination… was exquisite.
I leaned back, letting the weight of this realization sink in. The pieces were falling into place. Every artifact I had acquired—the rings, the wands, the legacy of the Peverells, and the forbidden knowledge—I was building an arsenal capable of reshaping the wizarding world.
And soon, very soon, I would test that power.