Lord Voldemort was momentarily stunned by the sudden intrusion.
He'd been locked in a stalemate with Dumbledore, spells flying back and forth with neither gaining ground, when someone burst in mid-duel, leading with Fiendfyre without so much as a word.
The intruder's Fiendfyre condensed into a massive dragon, roaring as it lunged toward their position!
Everything the dragon passed burned.
Tombstones shattered, rubble reduced to fine powder in the flames. Weeds charred instantly, leaving not even ash behind. Stone pillars that had stood for who knows how long collapsed with a crash, swallowed whole, reduced to slag in the blink of an eye.
Lord Voldemort stared at the hooded figure, a flicker of surprise and suspicion crossing his crimson eyes.
This person's control over Fiendfyre outstripped nearly every wizard he'd ever seen.
And the ease with which they wielded it, that sense of handling something immensely heavy as if it weighed nothing—it was obvious they were still holding back.
Voldemort made his decision instantly: attack the newcomer first.
He broke off the spell duel with Dumbledore unilaterally.
His body suddenly burst apart, dissolving into black mist that merged instantly with the night.
Dumbledore's spell missed, striking a tombstone behind him, which shattered on impact.
A second later, Lord Voldemort's figure slowly reformed dozens of meters away.
He steadied himself, wand raised, a cold sneer curling at the corner of his mouth.
A flick of his wand, and an equally fierce mass of Fiendfyre erupted from the tip!
The fire expanded rapidly in the air, transforming in an instant into a massive dragon—more hideous, more violent than the one opposing it, its whole body wreathed in pitch-black flame!
The two dragons collided with a roar above the graveyard!
BOOM—!!!
Flames splattered, sparks raining down. The two masses of Fiendfyre bit, tangled, devouring each other frantically, impossible to tell for a moment who held the upper hand.
Lord Voldemort's eyes narrowed.
He studied the hooded figure, watching the flames pouring endlessly from the other's wand tip.
Interesting.
A flick of his wand, and the Fiendfyre dragon suddenly split!
One became two, two became four! Four pitch-black dragons flanked the hooded figure from every direction!
The figure stayed calm, his wand sweeping as the gold-red dragon split into four as well, meeting them head-on.
Eight dragons clashed in a chaotic tangle overhead, flames lighting up the entire graveyard.
A cold sneer curled at Lord Voldemort's mouth.
He waved his wand again—
the dragons abruptly changed tactics! No longer simply biting and colliding, they wound and spun around each other, forming a massive vortex of fire!
The vortex generated a terrifying suction, aiming to drag the hooded figure and his dragons into it entirely!
The figure's gaze sharpened.
He drove his wand downward, body perfectly still. His dragons steadied too, refusing to retreat so much as half a step no matter how the vortex tore at them.
The two stood off across the fire vortex, neither willing to yield.
Lord Voldemort's expression shifted slightly.
He'd assumed he could take this arrogant intruder down in two or three moves. He hadn't expected to end up deadlocked instead.
And Dumbledore was still watching nearby.
Voldemort knew perfectly well Dumbledore wasn't attacking simply because he was waiting.
Waiting for the right opening.
Waiting for the moment to land a killing blow.
Damn it.
Voldemort gritted his teeth.
He didn't want to admit it, but the situation right now favored the other side.
He took a deep breath and broke the stalemate once more.
The fire vortex still burned, but his wand had already shifted target.
Aimed at the hooded figure.
"Crucio!"
Crimson light shot out!
The figure flickered aside, dodging easily.
Voldemort's wand swept again and again!
Three spells fired almost simultaneously, cutting off every route of retreat!
But the figure advanced instead of retreating.
A wave of his wand a wall of water rose from the ground, blocking the incoming spells! All three crashed into it, kicking up a cloud of mist!
Voldemort let out a cold snort.
Exactly what he'd been waiting for.
The instant the mist spread, his body exploded again, dissolving into black mist and reappearing instantly behind the figure!
Wand aimed at the back of his heart—
green light had just begun to gather.
As if he had eyes in the back of his head, the figure flicked his wand backward—
"Torrential Blast!"
A violent jet of water erupted from the tip, streaking straight for Voldemort's face!
His pupils contracted as he shot upward, narrowly dodging it.
Just then, blinding blue-white light exploded overhead!
Voldemort looked up sharply—
a bolt of lightning as thick as a barrel came crashing down!
No time to think; his body dissolved into mist again, vanishing instantly.
The lightning struck empty ground, blasting a deep crater into the earth.
A second later, Lord Voldemort reformed dozens of meters away.
He steadied himself, expression grim.
Electric sparks still danced across the tip of the figure's wand.
"Lightning..."
Voldemort murmured.
In his whole life, he'd never seen a wizard wield lightning so effortlessly, so completely at will.
He took a breath and raised his wand slightly.
The ground began shaking violently!
Countless cracks spread outward from him at their center! Thick black mist poured out from the fissures, condensing into giant palms clawing up out of the earth to grab the hooded figure!
The figure swept his wand—
"Protego Diabolica!"
Fierce flames erupted around him, forming a massive fire barrier!
The mist-palms grabbed at the barrier, sizzling and evaporating instantly!
But there were too many, wave after endless wave.
The barrier's glow began to dim.
A cold sneer curled at Voldemort's mouth.
Just then—
a spell struck from the side!
Voldemort sidestepped to dodge.
Dumbledore had held off until now, but once he moved, his spells poured down like a storm, one after another, forcing Voldemort to split his attention.
He defended himself while still maintaining the assault of the mist-palms.
Fine beads of sweat broke out on his forehead.
This couldn't go on.
Gritting his teeth, he thrust his wand downward!
BOOM—!!!
A ring of black shockwave expanded outward from him! Everywhere it passed, the ground split open, tombstones pulverized.
Dumbledore's spell scattered, and the hooded figure's fire barrier shuddered violently.
But—
it only dimmed further. It didn't break.
Voldemort's brow furrowed; this person's defenses ran sturdier than he'd guessed.
He looked up, meeting the hooded figure's eyes.
Then something felt off.
His mind still worked fine, but his body kept lagging half a beat behind. Like he'd sunk into some thick swamp, every movement suddenly heavy.
Voldemort's pupils contracted sharply.
What kind of magic was this now?!
He gritted his teeth, forcing his magic outward, straining to break free of that eerie restraint.
But in that exact instant—
a spell struck from the side!
He tried to dodge, but his body lagged half a beat too slow!
BANG!
The spell grazed his shoulder. Not a direct hit, but the aftershock still tore a wound into it.
Blood surged out.
Voldemort let out a muffled groan, his already pale face going ghastlier still.
Damn it.
He looked at the hooded figure.
Already stepping forward.
The fire barrier dissolved, sparks dancing around his frame as he advanced toward Voldemort, step by step.
Wand raised.
"Firestorm."
His voice came out soft.
But in that same instant—
the sky and earth changed color!
Gold-red flames burst from his wand tip, and in the blink of an eye a giant fire dragon appeared in the night sky!
More than ten times the size of the earlier one! Its wingspan stretched dozens of meters wide, its entire body burning with blue-white electric light.
It let out a deafening roar toward the heavens, then dove.
Voldemort's pupils contracted.
He retreated sharply, wand flailing to throw up black shields in front of him!
The fire dragon slammed into them—
BOOM—!!!!
After an earth-shattering blast, the shields shattered!
The fire dragon finally spent its power, dissolving into a sky full of sparks.
But the shockwave sent Voldemort flying backward dozens of meters, crashing miserably to the ground.
He gasped for breath, robes shredded, burns scattered across his body.
The hooded figure stood not far off, wand still trained on him.
Voldemort slowly rose, staring at the figure, at the face still hidden in shadow.
"I'll remember you."
Then—
his body exploded violently once more!
Countless streams of black mist burst from him, spreading rapidly in every direction! Thick as ink, it swallowed the entire graveyard in the blink of an eye.
The hooded figure immediately drove a bolt of lightning into the mist!
Dumbledore, too, swept his wand again and again, firing spells deep into it!
A few screams rang out from within the mist—Death Eaters who hadn't escaped in time.
But Lord Voldemort's presence—
was gone.
In the blink of an eye, the mist and the scattered Death Eaters around it had all vanished.
Only the howl of the night wind remained over the graveyard.
Dumbledore shook his head at the sight and lowered his wand.
Seeing Lynn beside him about to give chase, he reached out and pulled him back.
"Lynn," Dumbledore said, "don't chase him any further."
Lynn's takeoff stalled, and he paused.
He turned and pulled off his hood. Beads of sweat still clung to his forehead, battle intent still burning in his eyes.
"Headmaster, I can still fight."
He looked at Dumbledore, clear reluctance in his tone. "I think we should go after him. He's just been resurrected, his body's still unstable—we should finish him now."
He paused, gripping his wand tighter. "That way we rid the wizarding world of a great evil."
Dumbledore was quiet for a few seconds.
Then he shook his head.
"I could still fight too. But no one knows how many Horcruxes Tom has left undestroyed."
Lynn froze for a moment. "He's Tom?!"
Dumbledore nodded. "Chasing him down now would only send him into hiding again for a while."
Lynn sighed.
"Fine. Let him live a bit longer, then."
He put his wand away, clearly unsatisfied.
Reluctant as he was, Dumbledore's reasoning held up—leave a snake alive and you'll pay for it later, let alone when that snake happens to be a Dark Lord.
Dumbledore nodded, satisfied.
He looked at Lynn, then seemed to remember something suddenly.
"By the way."
Dumbledore spoke, a hint of curiosity in his tone.
"When did you pick up a phoenix as a companion?"
The question came out of nowhere.
Lynn looked up at him.
Dumbledore's gaze settled on him, waiting.
Lynn thought it over. "...First year."
Dumbledore froze.
First year?
First year?!
He instinctively turned to look toward the edge of the graveyard—there, Fawkes perched on a tombstone, elegantly preening its feathers.
"...I was already middle-aged when I met Fawkes."
Lynn blinked.
"Huh. Guess your luck isn't great, then."
Dumbledore: "..."
---
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