Voldemort
Prologue
The moment I discovered I was a wizard, I knew great power lay in store for me. I had always known I was special. I had always known there was something within me that made me better than the others. Magic ran through my blood, and magic set me apart and would give me new life. With magic, there was nothing beyond my grasp. There were stores of perpetual power just waiting for me to tap into. Nothing, not even immortality, that elusive aspiration of many was beyond the limits of my reach. If I could push the boundaries of magic farther than they had ever been pushed, who could say that immortality was impossible for me to obtain? Why should I, a being endowed with magical abilities, be forced to succumb to the shameful human weakness of death? What was there to stop me from mastering Death as my own? Nothing could stop me if I could learn to conquer Death. If I was the true master of Death, who in this world could stand in my way?