Chapter 22: The Pinnacle of Power

POV: Serena Prince

Reminder: The levels mentioned in this chapter are not official wizarding classifications. Wizards and witches experience magic instinctually, and their society does not rank power in such terms. The levels are used here for clarity and to help readers understand the scale of magical ability.

Note : This chapter might seem messed up, with multiple flashbacks happening, this is simply an effect of Serena's Occlumency's skills which are definitely among the best in the whole world, surpassing even Dumbledore and Voldemort. Every chapter with Serena's POV will also be arranged this way

The first rays of dawn filtered through the frost-covered windows of the Prince estate. Serena sat cross-legged on the stone floor of her study, the air around her crackling faintly with residual magic. She had spent the entire night immersed in intricate spellcraft, her wand tracing delicate arcs as she pushed the boundaries of her abilities. Now, the sensation of power hummed within her, a tangible presence that set her apart from others.

She had done it. She had reached the peak of the ninth level—a milestone that less than one in a million witches and wizards ever achieved.

Serena's expression was unreadable as she ran a hand through her dark hair. Her mind was a careful balance of emotions: Severus Snape's relentless pragmatism and the unyielding determination of her reborn self. For a moment, she allowed herself to feel satisfaction. This was not a trivial accomplishment. She had climbed a magical Everest, and now the summit of Level 10 loomed tantalizingly close.

Yet, with the triumph came a weighty question: could she truly reach the apex? Few had ever done so. The names of those who had ascended to Level 10 were etched into the annals of magical history, figures of legend who reshaped the world with their power. Eleven of them lived today, wielding abilities that bordered on the divine. Was she ready to join their ranks?

No wizarding tome or whispered tale could have prepared her for the feeling. Her magic felt alive, a storm raging within her, barely contained by her mortal form. Her breathing was steady, but her heart thundered. She placed her hands on the polished oak table in front of her, anchoring herself against the weight of her transformation. The journey here had been relentless—years of study, experimentation, and pain. And now, Serena Prince stood on the precipice of power, staring into the abyss of the tenth level, a realm few dared to dream of.

Her mind drifted to the world's magical elite. Eleven individuals currently occupied the mythical tenth level, their names whispered with reverence and fear. Serena knew she was now the closest person in the world to joining their ranks. She thought of Voldemort—not as the Dark Lord feared by many but as a benchmark, a symbol of what she aimed to surpass.

"Soon," she whispered to herself, her voice low and firm. "Soon, I will stand among them."

Serena's thoughts drifted to the nature of magical talent. Of the tens of millions born with magic, only a fraction possessed the raw aptitude to ascend the levels. Level 10 was not merely a test of skill or strength; it demanded an innate connection to magic, a rare combination of talent, willpower, and resilience.

Of those born with the potential to reach Level 10, most faltered along the way. Some succumbed to doubt or complacency. Others fell in battle, victims of their own ambition or the schemes of rivals. A rare few turned their backs on power altogether, choosing a quieter path.

Serena's lips pressed into a thin line. She had no intention of faltering. She had studied the greats, both past and present. Alba Dumbledore, the indomitable force who had vanquished Grindelwald. Gellert Grindelwald himself, the enigmatic visionary who once sought to unite the wizarding world under his rule. Even Voldemort, for all her monstrosity, had wielded power that demanded respect.

These were not her idols. They were her benchmarks.

The memories had come like a flood the morning after the Potters' death. Serena Snape—barely an adult, grieving for her childhood friend Lily—awoke in her small, dingy bedroom to find her mind invaded by another's life. The memories were vivid, detailed, and impossible to ignore. They belonged to Severus Snape, an alternate version of herself who had lived and died in a reality parallel to this one. From birth to death, every triumph and failure, every spell cast and betrayal endured, was now hers to bear.

She spent days in a haze, sorting through the fragments. The Severus of that world had been brilliant but flawed, loyal to a fault, and ultimately a victim of his own choices. His death at Voldemort's hands burned in her mind like a brand. But amidst the pain and regret, there was knowledge—priceless, powerful knowledge.

In her alternate life, Severus had uncovered the path to the pinnacle of magical power. He had glimpsed the potential to transcend the ninth level and stand among legends. But his ambitions had been cut short. Serena resolved that she would not suffer the same fate.

She shed the name Snape, reclaiming her place as a scion of the Prince family. Armed with Severus's memories, she asserted her claim to the Prince legacy with a cunning and ruthlessness that left no room for opposition. The vast wealth and resources of the Prince family were now hers, a foundation upon which she would build her ascent to power.

Her mind flickered to memories that weren't hers—the life of Severus Snape, whose soul was intertwined with her own. His obsession with power had driven him down dark paths, and while he had achieved mastery in potions and defensive magic, he had never come close to reaching Level 10. His downfall had been his singular focus, his inability to see beyond his immediate goals.

"You were so blinded by your hatred," Serena muttered, her voice soft but tinged with steel. "You never saw what you could have been."

In many ways, Snape's failures had become her lessons. Where he had been consumed by bitterness, she cultivated discipline. Where he had sought power for revenge, she sought it for purpose. Her goal was not to dominate but to create—to forge a legacy that transcended the petty squabbles of blood purity and political intrigue.

Serena's reflection in the study's mirror was sharp and unyielding, much like the woman herself. Her alternate self had achieved much but had ultimately fallen short. He had been a pawn in larger games, a man with immense potential but insufficient vision. Serena, however, had the benefit of hindsight.

"You wanted to be free of him," she said to her reflection, addressing Severus. "And now, I will be free of anyone. Not even Voldemort could touch me."

The tenth level—the realm of Dumbledore, Voldemort, and Grindelwald—was not just a distant dream for her. It was an inevitability. Serena's resolve hardened. She would not merely reach the tenth level; she would redefine it. Her ambition burned brighter than ever.

Later that morning, Serena stood before Alba Dumbledore in her office. The headmistress regarded her with a serene expression, her piercing blue eyes betraying nothing. The room was filled with curious artifacts, their hums and clicks a backdrop to their conversation.

"You've grown," Dumbledore said, her voice calm but weighted. "Both in skill and in presence. It is... palpable."

Serena inclined her head, accepting the compliment without arrogance. "I have been preparing myself for what lies ahead."

"And what, may I ask, do you believe lies ahead?"

For a moment, Serena hesitated. Dumbledore's gaze was unrelenting, and Serena knew that the older witch was not merely testing her resolve but probing her very soul.

"Change," Serena said finally. "The world is shifting. I intend to be ready for it."

Dumbledore leaned back in her chair, her fingers steepled. "A wise answer. But wisdom alone is not enough. Power, Miss Prince, is a burden as much as it is a gift. Remember that."

That evening, Serena returned to her study, poring over tomes and magical texts. She sought to understand the elusive tenth level—not just its requirements but its implications. The texts spoke of unparalleled mastery, the ability to alter reality itself. Yet they also warned of the cost: isolation, obsession, and the ever-present risk of losing one's humanity.

She studied the profiles of the current Level 10s, noting their strengths and weaknesses. Alba Dumbledore, for all her wisdom, was not invincible. Grindelwald had been defeated, proving that even the greatest could fall. Voldemort's reign had ended in ruin, a cautionary tale of hubris and cruelty.

But what struck Serena most was the absence of new Level 10s. For decades, the magical world had stagnated. No one had risen to claim the mantle. Was it fear? Complacency? Or was the climb simply too steep?

Among the fragments of Severus's memories, the lessons with Voldemort stood out with vivid clarity. The Dark Lord had been a ruthless but unparalleled teacher. Under his tutelage, Severus had delved into forbidden magic, learning spells and techniques that tested the very limits of his power.

But Voldemort's paranoia was as boundless as his power. He never shared everything, always keeping his most dangerous secrets to himself. Severus had harbored ambitions of surpassing his master but had never had the chance. Voldemort's fear of betrayal had led to Severus's death, a brutal and senseless end to a life filled with unfulfilled potential.

For Serena, these memories were a warning and a challenge. She would learn from Severus's mistakes. She would master what he had only glimpsed, and she would do so on her own terms.

Serena often analyzed the world's most powerful witches and wizards, contextualizing her place among them. The current Top 10 most powerful magical figures included names that inspired awe and terror:

Alba Dumbledore (UK, F) (111)Gellert Grindelwald (Germany, M) (111)Liu Mei (China, F) (79)Aya Ajei (Ghana, F) (88)Arya Jain (India, F) (56)Dorothy Payne (USA, F) (49)Voldemort (Ava Riddle) (UK, F) (66)Saito Takeshi (Japan, M) (103)Awa Mahlangu (South Africa, F) (95)Pernelle Flamel (France, F, former Level 10, now Level 9 due to age) (671)

The last tenth level is now 135 and has fallen to the ninth level and is named Pierre Bonaccord. (a Frenchman) (first Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards, a position later held by none other than Albus Dumbledore)

Each name represented a mountain Serena intended to surpass. Her flashbacks showed Severus's respect and fear for some of these individuals, especially Voldemort. For Serena, they were not obstacles but milestones.

Severus's memories had illuminated the concept of magical levels, a progression that was more instinctual than structured:

Level 9: Complete mastery of magical disciplines, unmatched by most.Level 10: A transcendent state where magic bends to one's will, capable of reshaping reality itself.Level 11+: The stuff of legends, realms of individuals like Merlin and the Founders.

Few possessed the talent to reach Level 10. Most either gave up or died trying. Serena was among the rare few with the potential and the will to succeed.

Back in her study, Serena let the memories fade, grounding herself in the present. The fire's glow reflected in her eyes as she considered the path ahead. Her power was unparalleled among her peers, but it was not yet enough. She would rise higher, become untouchable, and rewrite the rules of magic itself.

She gazed into the mirror once more, her reflection steady and unyielding. It was not just her face she saw but the legacy she was determined to surpass.

"The world will remember the name Serena Prince," she said softly, her voice filled with quiet determination.

The journey to the tenth level had begun.

As midnight approached, Serena closed her books and stared out the window. The snow-covered landscape stretched endlessly before her, a stark reminder of the challenges that lay ahead.

"Not bad for a man," she murmured to herself, echoing Alya Black's words. The phrase, once a barb, now felt like an ironic badge of honor. She had surpassed Snape in every way, proving that her rebirth was not a limitation but a gift.

Serena's resolve hardened. She would reach Level 10, not for glory or recognition but because the world needed someone who could wield that power responsibly. She would not become another Voldemort, consumed by ambition, nor would she stagnate like so many others. She would carve her own path, guided by the lessons of her past and the promise of her future.

And when she stood at the summit, the world would know her name.