Another beam of green light shot out from behind the silver shield. This time, it was the one-armed centaur who had dashed in front of Dumbledore. It was smashed to pieces by the spell.
Before the pieces fell to the ground, Dumbledore had already pulled back his wand and waved it like a whip.
A long thin flame emerged from the tip of the wand and wrapped around Voldemort's body, shield and everything else.
For a moment, it seemed that Dumbledore had won, but the slow rope turned into a viper and slithered down from Voldemort's body. It hissed viciously and faced Dumbledore.
Voldemort disappeared, and the viper stood up on the floor, ready to fight. In the air above Dumbledore's head, a flame burst and Voldemort appeared again.
He was standing on the pedestal in the middle of the pool, where the five statues had stood.
"Careful!" Harry shouted.
Just as he shouted, another beam of green light flew out from Voldemort's wand and shot towards Dumbledore. At the same time, the viper also attacked. The Deathless Bird Fawkes landed in front of Dumbledore, opened its mouth wide and swallowed the beam of green light in one gulp. It burst into flames and fell to the floor, small, wrinkled and unable to fly anymore.
At the same time, Dumbledore waved his wand to his heart's content. The viper was still some distance away from sinking its fangs into his flesh, but it was thrown high into the air and disappeared in a puff of smoke.
The water in the pool rose up and wrapped around Voldemort like a cocoon made of glass.
In the blink of an eye, a black, rippling figure of Voldemort with a blurry face appeared on the pedestal, shimmering faintly. It was obvious that he was struggling to break free from the cocoon that was suffocating him.
Then he broke free and the water splashed back into the pool. A large amount of water gushed out of the pool and wet the smooth floor.
"Master!" Béla Trix screamed.
Sure enough, it was over. Sure enough, Voldemort had decided to escape. Harry tried to run out from behind his statue guards, but Dumbledore shouted at him, "Stay there, Harry!"
This was the first time that Dumbledore sounded panicked.
Harry did not understand why: the hall was empty except for them. Béla Trix was sobbing, still under the Wizard's statue, and the little phoenix Fawkes was crying weakly on the ground.
Suddenly Harry's scar burst open, and he knew he was dead: it was an unimaginable pain, a pain that could never be erased.
He disappeared from the hall, and Harry was locked in a circle of red-eyed monsters. The monster was so tight that Harry did not know which was his body and which was the monster's. They were fused together, bound by pain, and there was no escape — the monster spoke, but it used its mouth, so Harry could only feel its mouth open and close in agony.
"Kill me now, Dumbledore."
Harry could not see. He was dying, and every part of him was begging to be free. He felt that the monster was using him again.
"If death is nothing, Dumbledore, then kill this boy."
No more pain, Harry thought. Let him kill us both. Let it be over, Dumbledore.
Compared to his current state, death was nothing.
I can see Sirius again.
Just as Harry was feeling all kinds of emotions, the monster's circle loosened and the pain disappeared.
He lay facedown on the floor, his glasses gone, his whole body trembling as if he had been lying on ice instead of wood. There were many voices echoing in the hall. It should not be.
Harry opened his eyes and saw that his glasses were lying at the feet of the headless figure, which had been protecting him, was now lying on its back, broken and motionless.
He put them on, raised his head a little, and saw Dumbledore's crooked nose in front of his nose.
"Are you all right, Harry?"
"All right," replied Harry.
He was trembling so badly that he could not raise his head properly. "All right, I — where is Voldemort, where is he — who are they — what —"
The hall was full of people; along one wall there was a sudden fire in the hearth, and the floor reflected the green flames. A succession of Wizard figures, men and women, poured out of the fire.
As Dumbledore dragged him to his feet, Harry saw Connelly Fudge, led by statues of house elves and leprechauns, approach in a panic.
"There he is!"
Cried a man in a scarlet robe with a ponytail.
He was pointing to a pile of golden fragments on the opposite side of the hall, where Béla Trix had been crushed by the statue.
"I saw it, Mr. Fudge. I swear he's Mystique. He's got a woman in his hand and Apparated!"
"I know, Williamson, I know, I saw him too!"
Fudge babbled, panting as if he had just run a marathon, still wearing his pajamas under his pinstriped cloak. "Good heavens — here — here — in the Ministry of Magic! -- by God -- it's unthinkable -- I mean -- how can it be --? '
"If you go downstairs to the Department of Occult Affairs, Connelly," said Dumbledore.
Harry is all right. Dumbledore looked obviously satisfied and went up to them so that the people who had just entered would realize that he was the first to arrive. (A few of them held up their wands; the others just looked surprised; the elves and leprechauns were clapping; Fudge was jumping up and down, his slippered feet off the ground.)
"You'll see a few escaped Death Eaters in the death chamber, bound by an Anti-Apparition Spell, waiting for you to deal with them."
"Dumbledore!" Fudge was still panting and looking surprised. "You — here — I — I —"
He looked around wildly at the Auror he had brought with him and shouted almost without thinking, "Get him!"
"Connelly, I'm ready to fight your people again — and win again!"
Dumbledore said. "But, a few minutes ago, you saw with your own eyes what I've been telling you for the past year. Voldemort is back. For twelve months, you've been getting the wrong person. Now it's time you learned to use your brain. "
Dumbledore's words always hit the nail on the head, and the facts were right there, so there was no way to refute.
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