Deep within Albania lay a primeval forest.
This place was devoid of human footprints and teeming with ferocious beasts. Few humans knew that within these ancient woods lay a darker forest, a place ordinary people had never trodden.
Here, not only were there magical beasts with high intelligence, but also various rare potion ingredients.
A python, about twenty feet long, slithered slowly and weakly through this dark forest.
A large section of its cloud-patterned body was distended—evidence of a recently swallowed prey.
Typically, after swallowing prey, a python would find a secluded spot to coil up and digest its meal. But this python was different; despite having just eaten, it was still crawling forward with everything it had.
A few hours ago, it had been resting and digesting. But a sudden awakening had changed its course of action.
On the triangular snake head, a twisted, pained human face seemed to manifest.
The face looked incredibly weak, as if it might dissipate at any moment, yet it controlled the massive snake body, driving it forward.
He didn't need to digest the food in the body; he needed to find a new vessel.
This python, acting as the carrier for Tom Riddle's soul, had reached its limit.
The sudden awakening earlier was because someone had triggered his Horcrux: Ravenclaw's Diadem.
When he turned the diadem into a Horcrux, he hadn't completely corrupted it.
If the diadem had been fully corrupted, the sapphire in the center should have turned black, not retained its original blue hue.
He had succeeded in making the Horcrux, yes. But some of the blue remained. This was likely due to rare magic Rowena Ravenclaw had placed upon it.
That magic must have contained a crucial message—a message that could only be released when it encountered the right person.
Just now, that magical message had been released. Through his fragmented soul in the Horcrux, he saw the blurry figure of the one who received the message: a young wizard from Hogwarts.
When the Horcrux released dark magic, his main, fragmented soul naturally felt the resonance.
This unnatural release and connection of dark magic alerted him to the anomaly with the Horcrux. However, the surge of dark magic also accelerated the decay of the python he was inhabiting.
Although this python was a ferocious beast, it wasn't a magical creature. In his current fragile state, he could only parasitize beasts that lacked magic.
The conditions for possession were incredibly harsh.
If a fragmented soul wanted to possess a body, it required the host's voluntary acceptance. Any resistance from the soul or consciousness, or any magical backlash from a magical creature, could weaken him further.
Pythons are cold-blooded, ordinary creatures, making them compatible with his soul. Simultaneously, the python had no magic and no clear consciousness, making it the perfect target for possession.
However, because of these very traits, the snake's body couldn't integrate with his dark magic at all. Therefore, every so often, he had to switch bodies.
---
Sunlight filtered through the rotting leaves of the forest, creating a miasma that hung in the air.
A stream flowed slowly through the jungle. Beside it, a male python, about fifteen feet long, was entwined with a female python, about twenty feet long.
The female was larger, and you could clearly see undigested food in her body, but that didn't stop the male's courtship.
Just as the two pythons were tangled together, black mist began to seep from the female python's head, forming a pained, twisted human face.
The manifested face slowly transferred onto the head of the male python.
The moment it touched him, the male python shuddered, but he was tightly wrapped by the female.
After a brief struggle, the male python's body went limp against the female. The twisted face turned into mist and rapidly transitioned fully into the male python's head.
The moment the black mist fully transferred, the male python let out a heart-wrenching scream.
The sound wasn't that of a snake; it was human—or more accurately, the agonizing roar of Voldemort.
Every change of body was a process of the soul being torn apart and reassembled. That bone-deep agony was definitely more intense than the Cruciatus Curse. With each switch, the fragmented soul grew weaker.
Because of his Horcruxes, his main soul wouldn't disappear no matter how weak it became; Voldemort would survive.
Although this existence could hardly be called "living," this state at least held the possibility of resurrection.
"I need a wizard's body... and that wizard must accept my soul willingly."
Tom Riddle knew exactly what he needed. To resurrect, this condition was the first step.
But finding such a person in the forests of Albania was nearly impossible.
He had considered leaving the forest to search in human society, but the life force of a possessed python wasn't enough to support him for that long. His body would likely fail before he even slithered to civilization.
Or, even if he made it to human society, in this snake body, he could be killed by ordinary Muggles in minutes. His skin made into a purse, his flesh thrown into a fire to turn to ash.
That was not the ending he wanted. To think that he, the Dark Lord, was currently afraid of ordinary Muggles... it was the ultimate irony.
---
After the pained roar echoed through the forest, the two entwined pythons lay motionless for a time.
After a while, the male python began to twitch and slithered out from under the female. The twenty-foot-long female python remained in her position, lying motionless on the ground.
The magical ritual of body swapping was complete. In the process, the female python's life force had been drained. The male python would now become Voldemort's new vessel, carrying him as he continued to survive in the dark forest.
Voldemort had lived like this for many years. He roamed this forest, looking for wizards who might venture into these dark woods.
This was a dark forest; surely wizards would come looking for potion ingredients or seeking adventure.
Voldemort's will was ironclad. He was, after all, the greatest Dark Lord in history. For years, he firmly believed he would find a suitable host.
Find a host, then slowly erode their will and body. Finally, with the help of potions and dark magic, he would take over completely, achieving a true resurrection within the host's body.
Like a turtledove occupying a magpie's nest—this was a valid method of resurrection. The moment it was completed, the host's soul would vanish, and Voldemort's soul would be nourished and restored within the new body.
It was a solid idea and a viable plan. But the prerequisite was finding a wizard who wouldn't resist him.
The python moved quickly.
Having possessed snakes for so many years, Voldemort was familiar with everything about them.
Crawling, hunting, eating... it was just a different way of life.
He had become a real snake, except this snake remembered that he was a man, a wizard.
ROAR!
Just as Voldemort was slithering over the dead leaves and branches, a werewolf's howl came from the distant forest to his left.
The sound immediately alerted him. The snake's head whipped in that direction. After a brief hesitation, he slithered toward it with even greater speed.
---
Ever since the wizarding world established unified laws and regulations, the living space for dark creatures had shrunk drastically.
Dark forests became sanctuaries for these creatures. And Feral Werewolves—those who couldn't transform back into humans—were among the creatures that inhabited this particular dark forest.
The howl of a Feral Werewolf was distinct; Voldemort, having lurked in the Albanian forests for years, could easily identify it.
In this dark forest, Feral Werewolves were essentially the kings of the food chain. Voldemort couldn't think of any unknown beast that could make a werewolf this angry—except for a human wizard.
The furious howls varied in pitch; there were at least three Feral Werewolves present.
Thinking logically, the only thing that could hold off two or three Feral Werewolves had to be a human wizard.