Harry Potter and the Ambitious Girl

"Edith, I believe you have the right to know."

It was right before the decisive battle.

There was something spoken to Edith alone in the headmaster's office.

It was about Mirabel — specifically, a prophecy made by Sybill Trelawney.

A prophecy concerning the end of the world.

Yes… "ruin."

The prophecy foretold that Mirabel's fate would ultimately lead to ruin.

"So far, Mirabel has done well… She has saved many people and gained the support of public opinion.

I didn't mention it in front of everyone, but… to be honest, I've even wondered if it might be best to surrender to her."

At present, Mirabel's conquest of the nation was proceeding almost perfectly.

She had resolved problems that no one else could.

While her methods were certainly heavy-handed, it was still true that she had liberated Britain from Voldemort's grasp.

As headmaster, Dumbledore couldn't afford to voice any weakness in front of the others.

But a faint, frail part of him had started to whisper that perhaps it might be wiser to entrust everything to Mirabel.

However… this prophecy stopped him from doing so.

"The angel mentioned in the prophecy, I believe, refers to your sister — Letice Grosteste.

If that's the case, then Mirabel is already walking the path toward ruin."

How exactly that ruin would come about was unknown.

Would her fierce nature drive her to seek new enemies, eventually turning her fangs on her own people?

Would her ruthless policies to cut away the weak go too far, resulting in unnecessary suffering?

Or perhaps it would be something else entirely…

What was certain, however, was that Mirabel carried the seeds of her own destruction.

Even if things were stable now, her radical reforms might later unravel everything, plunging the world into chaos.

You might think it's just a prophecy.

But the wizarding world had been swayed by such prophecies before.

And, most terrifyingly of all, they had never been wrong.

"You probably think I'm a foolish old man, don't you?

But I'm afraid, Edith.

I'm afraid that girl will eventually destroy everything."

The old man's voice was tired, weary.

But Edith didn't feel like laughing at him.

Perhaps, deep down, some part of her agreed with him.

It was true.

Mirabel was moving far too quickly.

So focused on the future that she didn't watch her own footing.

That thought gave Edith an uneasy feeling.

If Mirabel kept moving forward like this, it wasn't just the world that might be destroyed — it could be Mirabel herself.

But it was precisely because of that…

Because her friend was so dangerous, so precariously balanced, that Edith—

"—Mirabel, I… I want to stay with you."

On that day, Edith Reinagel took the devil's hand.

The Durmstrang Institute, a school where all manner of magical beings, wizards, and Muggles came and went.

Within the fortress-like walls of that school, Mirabel, the one they all called "master," had returned.

At her side was a girl with chestnut-brown hair, but there was a gloominess about her.

And no wonder — she was being crushed under the weight of guilt.

The guilt of having betrayed Harry and the others.

"Reinagel, your arrival has given me a greater advantage than I expected.

To think you would bring me the 'Arch' from the Department of Mysteries… It seems I must never underestimate Dumbledore to the very end."

The information Edith had delivered was beyond valuable to Mirabel.

That Harry was the final Horcrux.

That Dumbledore had already seen through the secret of her immortality.

And that, as a means to destroy her, they possessed the Arch.

Yes, that Arch could certainly kill her, Mirabel thought.

And if they'd seen through her weaknesses, there were surely other ways to kill her as well.

Her "triple immortality" was indeed powerful.

But because all three forms of immortality were concentrated in her heart, it also created a glaring weakness.

If someone were to pierce her heart with a basilisk fang, for example, it would simultaneously destroy her Philosopher's Stone, her Horcrux, and her vampire heart — resulting in instant death.

Fiendfyre wasn't much of a threat.

Her body would regenerate before the flames could reach her heart.

But being pierced by a basilisk fang?

That was a different story.

"…I suppose it's best not to use a basilisk in tomorrow's battle.

I should also consider destroying the Chamber of Secrets, along with the 'Arch.'"

With her hand on her chin, Mirabel pondered her next move.

The strategy she had initially planned was one proposed by Grindelwald.

That strategy was to stage a clash between two wizarding schools — Hogwarts and Durmstrang —

It was a plan designed to create a battlefield where her forces would have the upper hand.

Because of this, she hadn't intended to obliterate Hogwarts entirely.

At most, she had considered launching a missile at it.

Hogwarts, of course, had magical protections that negated anything scientific.

So, even if she fired a missile at it, it would just be a massive iron projectile.

At best, it would leave a large hole in the castle walls.

That's all.

Before the decisive battle, there was something shared exclusively with Edith in the headmaster's office.

It was the prophecy made by Sybill regarding Mirabel, which spoke of the end of the world.

Yes… "Destruction."

The prophecy foretold that Mirabel's path would inevitably lead to destruction.

"For now, Mirabel is doing well... She has saved many people and gained the support of public opinion.

I didn't say this in front of everyone, but to be honest, I'm beginning to think that surrendering might not be the worst option."

As things stand, Mirabel's campaign to seize power is progressing almost perfectly.

She resolved issues that even they couldn't solve, and though she relied on brute force, the fact remains that she saved Britain from Voldemort.

As the commander, Dumbledore couldn't afford to show any weakness before the others, but deep down, he wondered if it might be best to simply entrust everything to her.

However… it was this prophecy that held him back.

"The angel mentioned in the prophecy likely refers to your sister… Letice Grosteste.

This would mean that Mirabel is already walking the path toward destruction."

What form that destruction would take was anyone's guess.

Would she, driven by her fierce nature, eventually seek out new enemies and turn her fangs on her own people?

Would she prioritize policies that cut off the weak, only to end up discarding more than necessary?

Or would it be caused by something else entirely?

What needed to be feared most was the precarious nature of Mirabel herself — the potential for her to bring about destruction.

Even if things were fine now, the rapid reforms she was enacting could have long-term effects that might eventually shatter the world.

Some might think it was "just a prophecy."

But the magical world had danced to the tune of prophecies for ages, and the most terrifying part was that not a single one had ever been proven wrong.

"Do you think of me as a pathetic old man?

I am terrified... terrified that that girl will one day destroy everything."

The old man's voice was heavy with exhaustion, and Edith found no reason to laugh at him.

Perhaps it was because, deep down, she understood.

Indeed, Mirabel was living too fast.

In her pursuit of the future, she wasn't watching where she was stepping.

Edith couldn't shake the feeling that, if Mirabel continued down this path, she herself would be the one to face destruction before the world did.

But that was precisely why—

It was precisely because Mirabel was a precarious and dangerous friend—

"Mirabel… I… I want to be by your side."

On that day, Edith Reinegle took the hand of the devil.

The Durmstrang Institute, home to numerous non-human beings, wizards, and Muggles alike.

Mirabel, their master, had returned to the castle.

Beside her was a brown-haired girl who looked somewhat lifeless.

And that was only natural.

Her guilt for betraying Harry and the others weighed so heavily on her that she was about to be crushed by it.

"Reinegle, your arrival has given me an unexpected advantage.

To think you would bring the 'Arch' from the Department of Mysteries… It seems Dumbledore can't be underestimated until the very end."

The information Edith provided was invaluable to Mirabel.

Harry was the last Horcrux.

Dumbledore had already seen through the secret of her immortality.

And as a means to defeat her, they possessed the "Arch."

Mirabel reasoned that, indeed, with that, they could kill her.

Furthermore, if her weaknesses had been exposed, there might be other ways to kill her as well.

Her "triple immortality" was certainly formidable.

But because all three methods of immortality were concentrated in her heart, they also shared a singular, fatal flaw.

If her heart were pierced with something like a basilisk's fang, the Philosopher's Stone, Horcrux, and vampire heart would all be destroyed at once, resulting in her death.

Fiendfyre wasn't much of a concern. Her body would regenerate long before the fire reached her heart.

But if her heart were pierced by a basilisk's fang… it would be a different story.

"It's probably best not to use the basilisk in tomorrow's battle.

And it might be wise to destroy the Chamber of Secrets, along with the 'Arch,' as well."

Mirabel put a hand on her chin, thinking.

The strategy she had initially devised was one inspired by Grindelwald's vision.

In short, she planned to stage a clash between the two schools — Hogwarts and Durmstrang — to create a favorable battlefield for them.

Because of this, she hadn't considered outright destroying Hogwarts.

At most, she had considered launching a missile at it.

But since Hogwarts had defensive enchantments that nullified scientific weaponry, even a missile would amount to nothing more than a giant hunk of metal crashing into it.

At best, it would create a hole in the castle.

But if the "Arch" was hidden within that castle, it was a different matter altogether.

Ironically, Mirabel hadn't been aware of its existence until now.

Dumbledore, on the other hand, had failed to notice the network of magical rats that Mirabel had deployed.

However, when he strengthened the castle's defenses to prepare for Mirabel's attack, the rats were cut off.

This left Mirabel blind to the castle's interior.

If Mirabel had infiltrated the castle alone using house-elf-style apparition, she could have learned of it, but such carelessness was hard to forgive.

"For that reason, Grindelwald, I'm changing the plan.

Tomorrow, we'll obliterate the entire castle with a preemptive strike."

Edith raised her head, wondering who "Grindelwald" was.

A handsome, golden-haired man stepped forward, his dissatisfaction clear as he spoke.

"Then what of my final duel with Albus?"

"That old man won't die so easily. After the castle is destroyed, you can hunt him down and finish him yourself."

Hearing this, Edith felt her chest tighten.

Destroy the castle… the school where she had spent seven years with her friends.

She had become a part of that destruction.

Her decision had led to this outcome.

Mirabel glanced at Edith and let out a small sigh.

"You seem exhausted, Reinegle. Get some rest."

"No… I'm fine as I am."

"Rest."

She was right. Edith was exhausted.

Her body wasn't tired, but her heart felt like it had been shackled with heavy weights.

But even if she rested, it wouldn't change anything.

Because this weight… it would likely never be lifted.

"Don't be so pessimistic. Your choice wasn't a mistake.

If you care about the future of the magical world, siding with me is the right decision."

Hearing Mirabel's uncharacteristically kind words, Edith gave her a frail smile.

It was the lifeless smile of someone who had been completely worn down, like a patient succumbing to illness.

The next day, the fateful day had arrived.

The floating fortress of Durmstrang approached Hogwarts.

Edith's heart pounded harder with each moment as they neared.

"Reinegle… if it's too painful, you could have waited in France.

This battle will only bring you suffering."

Seated on her throne, Mirabel's tone was oddly gentle.

But Edith shook her head quietly.

She had betrayed Harry. She had chosen this side of her own free will.

So, at the very least, she wouldn't run away from that sin.

That was the one and only resolve Edith still had.

Seeing this, Mirabel murmured only, "I see."

At midnight, it began.

The shield of Hogwarts shattered.

And Mirabel chanted a spell.

"Accio."

Streams of meteors tore through the stratosphere and rained down on Hogwarts.

Hogwarts, the symbol of hope, was reduced to ashes.

The outcome was already decided.

With Mirabel's initial strike, Hogwarts had been completely destroyed, losing its function as a fortress.

From that point on, it was merely a battle of quality and quantity — and in both respects, the three-nation alliance held the overwhelming advantage.

Following Mirabel's orders, all available forces, excluding Holger and Edith, swarmed into the ruins of Hogwarts, mercilessly preying on the few survivors.

Edith forced herself to keep watching, suppressing her instinct to avert her gaze from the gruesome spectacle.

However, to deploy all forces meant that the castle itself was left defenseless.

And as if they had been waiting for this moment, intruders stormed into the hall of Durmstrang.

Amycus Carrow.

Alecto Carrow.

Thorfinn Rowle.

Gibbon.

The last remaining Death Eaters had arrived.

Upon seeing them, Mirabel's face twisted into a sneering grin of delight.

"So, this is your last stand, huh? How pathetic."

"Shut your mouth, Beresford! You devil!"

Alecto's furious shout echoed through the hall.

Her hands gripped her wand so tightly that her knuckles turned white, and bloodshot eyes glared at Mirabel with seething hatred.

"I'll never forgive you! I'll never forgive you for killing our comrades like they were garbage!"

Those words pierced Edith's heart as if they were directed at her.

But Mirabel, the one they were truly meant for, didn't flinch in the slightest.

On the contrary, she seemed entertained, savoring their rage like music to her ears.

It was as if the buzzing of flies had more chance of disturbing her than their words.

"Oh? And what will you do about it, you Death Eater who's murdered countless people like garbage?"

"Shut up!"

One of the Death Eaters, consumed by rage, raised his wand at Mirabel.

But before he could utter a spell, his forearm exploded in a spray of red.

A slicing curse had been unleashed with terrifying speed, so fast that none had time to react.

"G-GYAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!"

The man's scream was unbearable, like nails on a chalkboard.

Blood gushed from his elbow like a fountain, drenching the floor in red.

Witnessing this, Mirabel shot a disapproving glare at Holger.

"Don't interfere, Holger."

"Please forgive me, my lady. But you should restrain yourself, especially with Lady Edith present.

If, by some mischance, a stray spell were to hit her, it would be an unspeakable tragedy."

The incident had taken place in an instant.

From the moment the Death Eater raised his wand to the moment his arm vanished — less than a second had passed.

—So fast.

Edith was stunned by the sheer speed.

"Tch, I figured I could toy with them a little longer, but I suppose you're right."

"Joking aside, how many Dark Wizards have fallen because of such arrogance?

Victory should be claimed while it is assured.

Licking your lips in front of your prey is no mark of a true hunter."

Holger's blunt admonishment made Mirabel chuckle wryly.

He certainly doesn't hold back, does he?

But since Holger insisted, she decided to heed his advice.

It felt somewhat unsatisfying, like finishing a book before reaching the climax, but perhaps that was its own kind of entertainment.

"Damn you, damn you, Beresford!"

"Oh, quit yapping, Death Eater.

No need to be so terrified — I'll make it quick."

With a tone of utter boredom, Mirabel raised her arm.

Behind her, a massive, nine-headed flaming dragon emerged.

Its blazing golden form was none other than Fiendfyre, the cursed flames that consume everything.

The writhing inferno lunged at the Death Eaters, allowing no chance for escape.

It engulfed them, leaving them no time to scream.

Their figures were obliterated, and when the flames finally vanished, all that remained were blackened shadows scorched onto the floor.

"How dull. Not even a hint of resistance."

"That's for the best.

This is how the battle of a true king should be."

Mirabel had a tendency to seek amusement in battle.

Perhaps it was because she possessed overwhelming power and talent — a desire for moments where she could actually use them.

But that very tendency was also her only real flaw.

That was why Holger remained vigilant, ensuring she didn't succumb to arrogance.

He watched carefully, ready to admonish her whenever her bad habits surfaced.

"Now then, if I recall, Harry Potter was the last Horcrux, wasn't he?

Once he's dealt with, all that's left is to erase Voldemort."

As for Dumbledore...

Unfortunately, Dumbledore would likely lose to Grindelwald.

When the meteorite was summoned, Edith had seen a powerful magic barrier cover the school.

The only one capable of that was Dumbledore.

Which meant he had been at the very front, facing the impact head-on.

If he sustained a serious injury from that, there was little chance he could win against Grindelwald.

"My lady."

A man suddenly materialized into the room using Apparition.

It was Quirrell, bowing respectfully as he appeared.

He had been commanding trolls and other creatures on the front lines, so for him to return now meant he had a report.

As Mirabel silently gazed at him, he calmly delivered his message.

"We've successfully destroyed the Sword of Gryffindor.

With that out of the way, we can now deploy the Basilisk."

"Is that so? Well done."

"Additionally, we have also destroyed the last Horcrux.

We used Fiendfyre on Harry Potter, killing him."

Quirrell's pride was palpable as he delivered the report.

But Mirabel let out a small sigh.

Seeing this, Quirrell panicked, his face twisting with anxiety.

Had he somehow angered her?

Fearing the worst, he began to tremble, sweat gathering on his brow.

But then, Mirabel coldly addressed him.

"...You idiot."

Her voice was sharp and icy.

Quirrell flinched as though stabbed by a dagger, his breath catching in his throat.

"You killed Harry Potter with Fiendfyre?"

"Y-Yes, my lady! We confirmed his death for certain!"

At that moment, Mirabel's eyes sharpened with quiet fury.

"Fool. Did you forget that Fiendfyre can destroy Horcruxes?"

"...Ah."

The realization hit Quirrell like a lightning bolt.

He finally understood his mistake.

If Fiendfyre had burned Harry Potter, it would have destroyed not just the Horcrux inside him, but also the Horcrux itself.

In essence, they had destroyed Voldemort's final Horcrux without even needing to kill Harry.

"U-Um, I can fix it! I'll go back immediately and—"

"Shut up, Quirrell."

Mirabel's eyes turned even colder.

Her gaze was so frigid, it felt like the room had dropped below freezing.

"Return to the front lines. If you fail me again, you won't be returning at all."

Quirrell's face turned pale.

His lips quivered as he frantically nodded, bowing again and again before vanishing with another crack of Apparition.

Mirabel leaned back on her throne, closing her eyes in thought.

So, Harry Potter is alive... and now free from the Horcrux.

For the first time in a long while, a faint sense of unease began to stir in her heart.

"Well? Did you confirm Harry Potter's death?"

"Huh?"

"I'm asking if you confirmed Potter's death."

Mirabel's tone was filled with exasperation, causing Quirrell to break out in a cold sweat.

Confirm... his death?

No, he hadn't.

After all, he had used the Fiendfyre. There was no need to check. That fire could even destroy Horcruxes. The spell had definitely hit its target, and with the acute senses unique to vampires, he had detected the loss of life.

Because of that, he had assumed confirmation was unnecessary and left it at that.

"...You fool... The one you killed was the fragment of Voldemort inside Potter.

By now, he's probably fled with Granger at his side."

Mirabel sighed deeply, pressing her fingers to her forehead.

Edith had told her that a fragment of Voldemort's soul resided within Harry.

If that were the case, then it would be that fragment that perished first.

Harry might have suffered burns, but he was likely still alive.

Destroying the Horcrux was certainly an accomplishment, but this man always failed at the most critical moment.

She quietly decided to punish him later for this blunder.

"I-I'm terribly sorry! I-I'll go after him immediately...!"

"No, leave it.

After Dumbledore and Hogwarts are gone, there's nothing they can do.

Besides, leaving a little bit of resistance might be entertaining."

This was an unusually lenient decision for Mirabel.

After saying so, she turned her gaze to Edith.

"That works for you, doesn't it, Reinagle?"

"…Y-Yeah…"

Even if Harry lived, there was little he could do.

If he dared to oppose them, that too would be amusing.

On top of that, Harry and his companions were undeniably talented wizards.

If they managed to survive in the new world Mirabel would create, then they might prove themselves worthy to live in it.

That was Mirabel's final conclusion.

"Now then, all that's left is to get rid of the remaining nuisances… but it seems we won't even need to make a move."

Mirabel's gaze shifted toward the entrance of the castle as a smile of delight crept across her face.

At the same moment, the doors were blasted open, and in walked the Dark Lord himself, his face twisted with rage.

What an unbearable humiliation it must have been.

What a bitter frustration it must have been.

After all, he had only just regained his body, only to have the darkness he sought to spread utterly obliterated by Mirabel's golden flames.

If Mirabel had not existed in this era—

If Harry Potter had not existed—

If Dumbledore had not existed—

Surely, he would have claimed the world as his own.

But now, that dream was no longer within reach.

Everything had been taken from him.

Now, he was nothing more than a naked king—

A vanquished man, with nothing to his name.

"You've come at last, Voldemort.

But you're quite the fool, aren't you?

Do you really think you can win, coming here all alone against me?"

Mirabel's words were not taunts — they were simple truth.

This castle was now her domain, and she had Holger and Quirrell at her side.

If she so desired, she could call back all her forces stationed outside.

In other words, Voldemort had no chance of victory.

The best choice would have been to flee.

But instead, Voldemort drew his wand and, with the unwavering presence of a sovereign, bellowed with authority.

"Do not underestimate me! Do you know who I am?!

I am Lord Voldemort! I am the Dark Lord!

Even if everything has been taken from me, I remain an emperor!

A mere girl who's lived for no more than 17 years—do not think so lightly of me!"

It was a resounding, thunderous declaration.

Even as a king without subjects, he still radiated the arrogance and dignity of a ruler.

He had once been called the greatest evil in the wizarding world, and that was no exaggeration.

Though Mirabel had never sympathized with his ideals, for the first time, she felt a measure of respect for Voldemort.

"Well said, Lord Voldemort.

For the first time, I find myself respecting you.

I'll acknowledge it—though your ideology is worthless, your way of being is undoubtedly that of a king."

Mirabel stood up from her throne and floated into the air.

Holger and Quirrell instinctively raised their wands, but Mirabel motioned for them to stand down.

This was a duel to determine the next ruler.

There could be no interference.

More than that, Mirabel felt compelled to answer the pride Voldemort had just displayed.

"And I thank you.

For giving me the honor of slaying an enemy as worthy as you."

The two faced each other in the great hall, locking eyes.

Without any signal, both inclined their heads in a shallow bow.

The former king acknowledged the tyrant of the new age.

The new tyrant acknowledged the king of the old.

They might never see eye to eye, but they had at least shown each other a measure of respect.

Thus, the final battle began—

A battle where the outcome was already decided from the start.

May 2, 1998

The British wizarding world fell.

The shock of this event spread rapidly throughout the magical world and was met with celebration.

In the final battle, Voldemort displayed the ferocity befitting a true emperor, standing against Mirabel.

His arms were torn off, his legs broken, his body riddled with holes, and his entrails dragged behind him. Yet, he continued to advance.

But no matter how fearsome he was, a mortal beast could never triumph over an immortal one.

The emperor who resisted until the very end finally perished, and as the symbol of evil, his head was put on public display.

Mirabel felt a measure of respect for Voldemort in his final moments, but that didn't change what she had to do.

He had to leave the stage as the "symbol of evil" in the wizarding world, bearing that name in defeat, and letting everyone know he had been bested by her.

However, perhaps out of a lingering sentiment for the emperor, she cast a protection spell to prevent the people from throwing stones at his head. After a brief period of public display, she arranged for him to be swiftly buried.

Dumbledore was gone too.

It was said that he had perished in a mutual kill with Gellert Grindelwald, showing the pride of a great wizard in his final moments.

His death was deeply mourned, and as a gesture of respect, Mirabel arranged an extravagant funeral for him.

...Even now, Mirabel cannot help but wonder.

If Dumbledore had governed the wizarding world, perhaps a different future could have unfolded.

Perhaps she would still be laughing alongside Retis...

—No, she stopped herself.

...How disgraceful. Such regrets were unbecoming.

Although the British wizarding world had been reduced to ashes, its people had not vanished.

As long as people remained, it could be rebuilt.

Having seized control of the British wizarding world at last, Mirabel's path of conquest did not end there.

Her goal was the complete unification of the wizarding world—and the eventual conquest of the entire Muggle world as well.

Thus, the Tyrant did not stop.

Leaving behind countless sacrifices and tragedies, the United Magic Federation, led by Mirabel, pursued its vision of the future.

July 6, 1999

The American wizarding world was brought under control.

September 1, 2000

The Italian wizarding world was brought under control.

April 4, 2001

The Japanese wizarding world expressed its regret.

November 21, 2002

The rest of the Asian wizarding world, excluding Japan, was brought under control.

November 22, 2002

The Japanese wizarding world joined the United Magic Federation.

October 23, 2010

The entire global wizarding world was brought under control and joined the federation.

With all obstacles eliminated, Mirabel had no enemies left. With unstoppable force, she dyed the world in her colors.

She crushed those who opposed her, gathered those who supported her, and continued to move forward without ever looking back.

And then—

Hundreds of years passed.

"Good morning, my lady.

For today's schedule, you have a meeting with the Muggle president of the United States."

The one who greeted Mirabel as she rose from her bed was a maid with a composed and dignified face.

For a moment, Mirabel saw an overlap with Mary, her former servant from long ago. But she quickly remembered that this was someone else entirely.

How many maids had she had since then?

…Ah, that's right.

If she recalled correctly, around five years ago, the previous maid had become too old to continue working, so this one had been brought in as a replacement.

"I see... You may leave."

"Yes, ma'am."

After sending the maid away, Mirabel stepped down from her bed.

Her appearance had not changed at all from centuries ago—still as beautiful and youthful as ever.

But this young girl was none other than Mirabel Beresford, the Emperor of the magical world, who had united it under her rule centuries before.

She changed from her nightgown into a robe adorned with gold embroidery.

As she did so, her eyes were drawn to the photo frame sitting atop her dresser.

There were two photos inside.

One was of a silver-haired girl waving her hand.

The other was of a brown-haired girl quietly smiling.

"..."

Staring at those photos, Mirabel's expression softened, showing a gentle smile for just a moment.

The two people in the photos were gone.

Retis had been lost in childhood.

And Edith… Edith had passed away long ago as well.

Edith Reinagle had never sought eternity, even until the very end.

Did her heart break under the weight of betraying her friend, or was it her fate all along?

Over the years, she weakened, and at the young age of 32, she passed away.

Of course, she could have been saved.

If Mirabel had chosen to, she could have given her the Water of Life to prolong her life. She could have even turned her into a being beyond human limits—a monster.

But Edith refused. She wished to die as a human being.

Perhaps now, she is getting along well with Mary on the other side.

Word reached Mirabel that Harry Potter and Hermione Granger had gotten married, but she knew nothing beyond that.

It seemed they had dabbled in some form of resistance, but she imagined they lived a life that was, by all accounts, happy enough.

"…Alright then, I'm off… Retis… Edith…"

She laid the photos face down and turned with a flourish of her robe.

She would not show weakness. To anyone.

Not to her loyal vassals. Not even to her own brother.

No one would ever see the cracks in her heart.

Her face had already shifted into that of the bold and domineering tyrant. It radiated an unshakable confidence in herself.

When she opened the door to the grand hall, Quirrell and Holger were already there, kneeling as if they had been waiting for her arrival.

At the same moment, the assembled vassals all knelt in unison, offering their gesture of fealty.

Mirabel strode toward the grand throne and sat down.

Now, not only the magical world but the entire Earth belonged to her.

All of the Muggle prime ministers were in her pocket—people she had carefully replaced over the course of several generations.

Meetings like the one with the Muggle president were mere formalities.

In reality, the world operated as an autocracy under Mirabel's rule.

Of course, she couldn't control everything alone.

Leaders were assigned to each nation to maintain order, and on the surface, it appeared as though wizards and Muggles were living in coexistence.

But in truth, Mirabel always had the final say on every major decision.

Her rule was one of "shared prosperity," but it was, in essence, domination.

Yet the people accepted it.

Because following Mirabel brought "peace of mind."

Obeying this transcendent being meant there would be no mistakes. People could walk the "right path" with certainty.

Surrendering everything to an absolute authority was comforting.

Like a child trusting their father.

Like a loyal dog surrendering to its master.

The leaders of humanity had become nothing more than a pack of well-trained dogs.

And Mirabel continued to answer their trust.

She had unified the wizarding world.

She had achieved peace with Muggles.

She made the world recognize the existence of magic.

And finally, with the combined power of magic and science, she opened the path to the stars, leading humanity into space.

She entrusted development and administration to handpicked, capable individuals.

Those who stood in the way were secretly eliminated.

Corrupt politicians and the cancerous elements of society were purged through death.

Humanity already possessed the power to move forward on its own.

All that was needed was someone to guide them in the right direction.

Weapons capable of destroying civilization, like nuclear arms, were seized and dismantled.

If a nation appeared likely to start a war, its leaders were slaughtered.

On occasion, Mirabel would even bring down a meteor to utterly annihilate them.

Potential threats to world stability, like the old "pureblood supremacy" ideology, were preemptively eradicated with no regard for the means required.

Everyone revered her.

Everyone worshiped her.

But no one stood beside her.

She had no friends to whom she could show her heart.

Mirabel had become too overwhelming a force.

She had grown too boundless in her power, continuing to evolve without end.

No one could stand as her equal.

The peak of the pyramid is always a lonely place.

And Mirabel, possessing the strength to keep moving forward even in solitude, had grown to accept it.

Her mind had become something far removed from that of ordinary people.

At times, she felt despair.

No matter how many fools she crushed, new ones would appear.

No matter how many problems she solved, humanity would simply create new ones.

There was even a moment of temptation where she considered wiping out all of humanity.

But those two girls would not have wanted that.

Retis and Edith.

The two sisters who had already left this world were an irreplaceable anchor for Mirabel.

They were the only vestige of conscience that still remained within her.

—Honestly… they leave me behind and die first, but they still manage to chain me down like this…

When she thought about it like that, it struck her as oddly amusing.

It felt as though that chain was the only "bond" she still had.

Her ambitions had been fulfilled.

And from now on, the world would continue to develop.

It was without a doubt the future she had envisioned and strived for.

But—

—The girl in her heart still refuses to smile—

(END 1: "The Golden Tyrant")

Want to read the chapters in Advance? Join my Patreon

https://patreon.com/Glimmer09