Tom must die

There was a reason the pure-blood families had followed Dark Lord Voldemort in committing so much slaughter.

There were few wizards to begin with, and even fewer people in the pure-blood families. Yet, proud of their status, they had begun intermarrying within their own circle. After a thousand years of this, their family surnames were little more than labels. In the most recent generations, the descendants of most pure-blood families carried the blood of almost every other pure-blood family.

This was not a good thing. They were like villagers marrying among themselves, generation after generation, until serious problems had finally emerged.

The children born to them had deeply troubled minds.

Of course, perhaps that was not entirely bad. At least it had produced a great many geniuses: the Dumbledore brothers, Grindelwald, Voldemort, Barty Crouch Jr., Sirius, Ollivander, Mad-Eye...

There were far too many famous names to list.

Anton always said that magic was the power of the mind, and his dear professor had also said that a damaged mind shaped magical power of the utmost intensity. Perhaps Voldemort had long since seen through the pure-blood families' problem, which was why he had taken a knife to his own soul.

After all, as a first-generation half-blood, he did not seem to have a mind as twisted as Bella's or Barty Crouch Jr.'s.

The same went for other first-generation half-bloods, such as Snape and Professor McGonagall.

And so, the most ridiculous thing had happened.

The very thing the Sacred Twenty-Eight took the greatest pride in had become the shackle preventing them from regaining their glory—they could not accept half-bloods.

The fears lurking within this elite class had slowly become reality, too: a great many of their descendants were fools.

Worse still, excessively damaged minds from birth made them oversensitive to magical power,