Manipulating her… had been far easier than I expected.
Not because I lacked caution—no, I had approached it with the same precision I applied to everything—but because Ariana herself had already been… fractured.
Eighty percent of her memories were gone. Shattered. Lost to time, trauma, and death.
What remained?
Pain.
Confusion.
And most importantly… a quiet, lingering resentment.
Toward her brother.
Toward Albus Dumbledore.
I stood by the tall window of my study in Peverell Castle, hands clasped behind my back as I looked out over the vast, mist-covered grounds. The sky was grey, the wind howling softly against the ancient stone—fitting, really.
Behind me, I could feel her presence.
Ariana.
Silent. Watching.
Waiting.
I turned slowly.
She stood near the center of the room, her posture straight but uncertain, like a weapon not yet accustomed to its wielder. There was something almost delicate about her appearance—but I knew better.
Beneath that fragile exterior was something monstrous.
Something powerful.
Something I would shape.
"You're thinking," she said softly.
I smiled faintly.
"Always."
Her eyes studied me carefully. There was curiosity there. Trust. And beneath it all… dependence.
Exactly as intended.
"You said you would teach me," she continued.
Ah.
Straight to the point.
Good.
I walked toward her, my movements calm, measured—deliberate. Every step, every glance, every word I spoke around her was crafted. Reinforced.
Because while she was loyal now…
I would ensure she stayed that way.
"I did," I replied. "And I will."
I circled her slowly, observing.
Her magical core pulsed unevenly—vast, but volatile. The Obscurial within her stirred like a storm barely contained, its power pressing against the boundaries I had placed around it.
It was… magnificent.
And dangerous.
"You are not like other witches," I said.
She looked down slightly.
"I know…"
"There has never been someone like you," I continued. "Not truly."
Her gaze lifted again, meeting mine.
"And that," I added, "is why you need control."
I raised my wand.
"Show me your magic."
She hesitated.
Then, slowly, she lifted her hand.
The air shifted instantly.
Dark tendrils of energy began to leak from her form—thin at first, then rapidly expanding, twisting like shadows given life. The temperature in the room dropped, the very light bending unnaturally as her Obscurial magic began to manifest.
The walls trembled slightly.
Books rattled on their shelves.
And her expression… tightened.
"I… I can't fully control it—"
"Stop."
My voice cut through the room like a blade.
Immediately, the magic stilled.
Not because she had mastered it—
But because she listened.
Because she obeyed.
Good.
I lowered my wand slightly, stepping closer.
"You're not lacking power," I said calmly. "You're drowning in it."
Her breathing was uneven now.
"It feels like it wants to get out…"
"It does," I replied. "The Obscurial is not just magic. It is suppressed magic. Pain. Emotion. Instinct."
I placed two fingers lightly against her forehead.
"And right now… it's stronger than you."
Her jaw tightened slightly.
"I don't want that."
"I know."
And I did.
That was the key.
She didn't want to lose control again. Didn't want to become that broken, unstable child she once was.
Which meant—
She would listen.
She would learn.
And she would cling to the one person offering her control.
Me.
"Then we begin with discipline," I said.
I stepped back, raising my wand again.
"Magic is not just power. It is intent. Structure. Will."
I flicked my wand sharply.
A stone dummy rose from the floor, forming into a humanoid shape.
"Attack it."
She blinked.
"…Just like that?"
"Yes."
No hesitation this time.
She raised her hand—
And unleashed hell.
The Obscurial erupted outward in a violent surge, slamming into the dummy with overwhelming force. The construct didn't just break—it disintegrated, reduced to dust in an instant.
The shockwave cracked the floor beneath it.
Silence followed.
Ariana stared at what she had done.
"…I didn't mean to destroy it like that."
"Of course you did," I said calmly.
She looked at me, confused.
"You just don't know how to do anything else yet."
I walked forward, inspecting the damage.
Raw power.
No refinement.
No control.
But that was fine.
That was something I could teach.
"You will learn to scale your magic," I continued. "To choose how much power you use… and when."
I turned back to her.
"Because power without control…"
"…is dangerous," she finished quietly.
I smiled.
"Exactly."
She was learning already.
Faster than most.
Of course she was.
A Dumbledore.
An Obscurial.
And now—
My apprentice.
I walked toward the door, pausing just before stepping out.
"Tomorrow," I said, "we begin proper training."
She nodded immediately.
"Yes, Tom."
I stepped into the corridor, the heavy doors closing behind me.
And as I walked away, one thought lingered in my mind.
Ariana Dumbledore…
was no longer a tragedy.
She was no longer a victim.
She was no longer even a person, truly.
She was something far greater now.
Something I had created.
And when the time came…
She would stand on the battlefield.
Not as a broken girl—
But as a weapon powerful enough to shake even Albus Dumbledore himself.