Prophecies never lie, it's just that the world misjudged the protagonist.
There is no light in Azkaban, but the darkness taught Ryloth how to disguise himself as the sun.
At the age of 11, the Potions Master slipped out of prison and got into a little trouble.
The pendant on the boy's chest whispers day and night, and no one knows it - sleeping there is the third-generation Dark Lord who has disrupted the world, and he is also the one who killed himself in the future time and space to rewrite the present moment.
"They handed me the crown of the false god and forced me to sit on the blood-stained throne."
Rylos rubbed the potion bottle left by Snape. The liquid in the bottle shook the reflections of the two souls.
"But I forgot to ask - am I willing to use the bones as steps to climb to the gallows where I hang myself?"
When Voldemort's green flame burned through the dome of Hogwarts, when the mysterious organization's spell tore apart the last line of defense, when the apocalyptic sigh came from the pendant: "Become me... To kill me."
The blood-stained fingers clenched the black robe tightly, and the young man chuckled in the ruins: "Severus, your potion cannot stop the destruction of the soul..."
"But your eyes - know how to devour the sun better than any dementor."
In the end, what he burned was not the name of the devil in the book of fate.
Rather, it is the brightest self who will wear the Crown of Eclipse.
