HP: I started with the The Dark Dimension

The chilling winds howled through the darkened corridors of Jadis' castle as Magnus Gaunt strode past the ice-covered statues that lined the halls. Their frozen expressions of terror reflected the power of the White Witch, a power he now sought to claim for himself. His boots crunched against the frost-laden stone, the air thick with an unnatural cold. He had slaughtered every guard in his path with precise, merciless efficiency, his magic leaving trails of blackened ice and shadow in his wake. Now, he stood before the grand doors of the throne room, his heart pounding with anticipation.

Pushing the doors open, he found Jadis seated on her throne, her piercing gaze studying him with intrigue. The great White Witch of Narnia was a vision of cruel beauty, clad in her flowing silver robes, a crown of ice atop her head. Her pale lips curled into a smirk as she regarded him. "And what is it that you desire, Magnus Gaunt?"

Magnus bowed his head slightly, his Sorcerer's Hat casting a shadow over his face. "Power. Knowledge. Immortality. I seek to stand at your side, to learn from you. My so-called siblings are weak. They cling to ideals that will lead to their ruin. I have no such foolish attachments. Teach me, and I will help you crush Aslan and his followers."

Jadis studied him for a long moment before rising gracefully from her throne. "You intrigue me, boy. Most who stand before me do so in fear. You come with ambition." She descended the steps and cupped his chin with her gloved hand, her fingers like ice. "Very well, Magnus. But know this—true power demands sacrifice. Are you willing to give everything?"

A slow, cruel smile formed on Magnus' lips. "I already have."

Jadis let out a satisfied hum before stepping back. She raised a hand, and a swirling portal of frost and mist formed behind her. "Then come. I will take you somewhere that time itself cannot touch. A realm of pure ice, where you will become something greater than human."

With a final glance back at the mortal world, Magnus stepped into the portal.

The ice dimension was a realm unlike any other—a timeless expanse of frozen landscapes where reality itself seemed to shudder under the weight of ancient magic. Here, the concept of time did not exist; days and nights blended together in an endless cycle of frigid stillness.

For what felt like centuries, Jadis subjected Magnus to a rigorous and brutal training. She taught him the secrets of ice magic, molding his body and soul into a vessel of untamed power. He learned to summon blizzards with a thought, to freeze the very air around him until it shattered like glass. The dark arts became second nature to him, his understanding of magic deepening beyond anything he had imagined. With each spell, with each lesson, his body changed. His once warm complexion grew pale, his veins coursing with the essence of frost. He no longer felt the bite of the cold—it was as if he had become one with it.

Jadis smiled at his transformation. "You are ready, Magnus. You are no longer bound by the weakness of mortality. You are something far more... eternal."

Magnus gazed into a mirror of ice, taking in his new form. His once tanned skin was now alabaster white, his eyes gleaming with an otherworldly glow. He traced a hand over his bare chest before reaching for the belt of Sun-Lok, fastening it around his waist. Then, with a flourish, he donned his Sorcerer's Hat, its fabric shifting to match the eerie power he now radiated.

"Yes," he whispered, a wicked grin forming. "I am ready."

Emerging from the ice dimension, Magnus wasted no time in adapting to his new role at Jadis' side. That morning, he was summoned to the throne room where the White Witch revealed her grand plan.

"Today, we march to meet Aslan and his foolish followers," she declared. "They will expect mercy, but they will find only death."

Magnus smirked, adjusting his cloak. "Then let us not keep them waiting."

They rode across the snowy plains on horseback, the Witch's army a tide of darkness stretching across the horizon. Magnus rode at her right, his fingers twitching with anticipation. When they arrived at Aslan's camp, the golden lion stood with his forces, his piercing gaze unreadable.

Jadis raised her voice, her words sharp as a blade. "I have come to claim my right. The traitor, Edmund, belongs to me!"

Gasps rippled through the crowd as Edmund recoiled in fear. Aslan, calm as ever, stepped forward. "There is a deeper magic, Jadis. Let us discuss this in private."

As the White Witch and Aslan entered the hut, Magnus remained outside, his presence a beacon of malevolent energy. He turned to face his siblings, their eyes filled with shock and disbelief.

"Magnus... what have you done?" Susan whispered.

Peter's hand gripped the hilt of his sword. "You've betrayed us."

Magnus laughed, the sound hollow and cruel. "Betrayed you? No, Peter. I have merely outgrown your naïve ideals. The next time we meet, I will not hesitate to kill you."

Lucy clutched Matilda's arm, tears brimming in her eyes. "You don't mean that..."

His grin widened. "You'll see soon enough."

Moments later, Jadis emerged from the hut, a victorious smirk on her lips, while Aslan looked somber. She had persuaded the lion to release Edmund, but Magnus knew what was coming next. That night, Aslan willingly walked to the Stone Table, accompanied by Susan and Lucy. Magnus stood among the Witch's followers, watching with cold amusement.

Jadis approached Aslan with an air of triumph. "Foolish lion. You have given yourself up so easily."

With a mere flick of her wrist, her minions surged forward, binding the great lion in enchanted chains. Magnus stepped closer, his eyes flickering with unreadable emotion.

Peter, seeing his chance, lunged at Magnus with his sword, rage fueling his every move. But with a flick of his fingers, Magnus sent him hurtling back with a powerful gust of magic.

"Pathetic," he sneered. "You are nothing compared to me."

Aslan's golden eyes met Magnus' for the briefest moment, filled not with anger, but with understanding. And that was the last thing Magnus saw before the blade came down upon the lion's throat.

As the night air filled with the sounds of victory, Magnus turned away, a strange feeling stirring within him. He had everything he wanted—power, immortality, a place at the side of a queen. And yet, as he gazed up at the night sky, he couldn't shake the whispering doubt at the edges of his mind.

Was this truly what he had sought all along?